My Little Boy

I write about A all the time.  Probably because I spent the most time with her.  She needed me the most.  The crisis we faced was HER crisis more than anyone else's.  But regardless of the reason, I talk about her a lot.

I don't talk about her half-brother a lot.  And he was my baby too.  In fact, he was almost more my baby... because when I brought him home at 8 weeks old, no one had ever attended to his needs the way I did.  I was his first secure attachment.  I was the one he wanted when nobody else could calm him down.  I never even realized the gravity of it until my mom told me one day, after the umpteenth person had handed him back to me to handle, "You're his favorite person in the whole world.  Nobody loves him like you do."

And I cried.  I held my baby boy - my first baby boy, and cried.  Because I loved him so much.

First picture... blurry picture... of his first night home.

I was the one up with him all those sleepless nights.  I was the one who comforted him when he didn't feel well (which was often, as he had a rather stubborn case of GERD among other things).  He slept by my side in a cosleeper for six months.  I bought his formula, his diapers, his clothes.  I saw his precious smiles.  I was there for all his firsts.

First bath

First baby food

First time swimming

First trip to the pumpkin patch

First Trick-or-Treat

First birthday

And now, three years after that last picture was taken... my baby boy is four.

And I forgot his birthday until today.

No, it wasn't his first birthday without me.  Yes, it's been over a year since I've seen him.  Yes, I was up to my ears in something else that day.  But when it was his sister's birthday in May, I broke - completely.  And I forgot his.  And he was my baby.

How horrible is that?

When I realized it tonight - that my baby boy turned FOUR without me ever noticing - I knew it was coming up, I never forgot the date... but I missed it - I started to cry.

Four.

Tonight I want to take a minute to talk about my little boy... who isn't such a baby anymore.

He loved mashed potatoes.  And pizza.  And pretty much any kind of junk food... but when he was a baby, peas were his favorite.

His first word was "duck".  And I put a lot of effort into that!  The kid had more ducks than I can count on all my fingers and toes.

My mom used to sing him "Baa, Baa, Black Sheep", and he'd get this serene little smile on his face, like that song just made everything better... even when I teased her after realizing that the lyrics sort of, kind of suggest that it might be about slavery.

His favorite toys were balls, cars, and any markers he could get his hands on.  Thus the following picture:

Once, he dumped out an entire bag of potato chips, and then laid in them.  Some people would've been mad.  I barely managed to stop laughing long enough to take a picture.

He loved his bath... except for the part where I had to wash his hair.  He didn't like water to touch his head... at first I thought it was just lying down, but dumping it was worse.

When he was 18 months old he broke his leg while not in my care.  He had just barely started walking and then had to drag that heavy thing around half the summer... it sucked.  But it didn't keep my little guy down.

This is the last picture I took of him...

My best friend was cutting his sister's hair, and he took it upon himself to find one of her daughter's headbands and put it on - his way.  It was too cute not to take a picture!

He was two and a half when I said goodbye to him.  I had no idea it would be the last goodbye for so long.

He faced so many struggles in his short little life.  I wonder how he's doing now.  If his fits have calmed down or gotten worse.  If his language has improved, or slacked.  If he's still my chunky monkey who was wearing 4T shirts at two.  If he's anywhere near potty training.  If he's going to Head Start.

Even just where he is.

Because that little boy is another piece of my heart, walking around outside my body.  And maybe I didn't have him as long, or as intensely, as I had his sister, but he was my little boy all the same.  And I miss him.  I love him.

Happy late birthday little man.  I know it's no excuse, but if you were here, I wouldn't have forgotten.  We'd have had a party.  Maybe driven down to Nelsonville to ride the train (if you don't like trains, you would have if you'd stuck around me much longer!) like we did when my brother was that age.

One day we'll be together again.  I know it.  Love you much, my little goober pea.

Happy Birthday, Princess

Happy birthday, little girl.  Or should I say, big girl?  Ten, really!  Next year you'll have to start using your toes to count!

I miss you and love you more than you will ever know, but don't worry.  I'll be okay.  I know God is watching over you, and I know He will bring you back to me sooner or later.

I hope you had some cake and ice cream today.  I hope somebody sang to you and gave you a present.  It didn't rain like I was afraid it would, so hopefully you got to have outdoor recess.

We had cake and ice cream for you.  Princess and Ellfant celebrated with us.  It was oreo cake and birthday blast ice cream.  It was really good, but it would've been better if you were here.

Remember... I love you like the moon at night - big, and round, and warm, and bright.  I love you... goodnight.

Empty

That's how this week feels.  Empty.  And it's the most horrible feeling.

Once upon a time, I used a camera with film.  Once upon a time waaaay back in 2007 ;)  So one year is missing.  Three.  Although, actually, I do have this random picture from a little later that year...

Three

But since then...

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight isn't here... a miracle was busy unfolding... but here's a little girl who dressed herself a few weeks later...

Pardon my messy apartment.

Nine

...



This is ten.

Ten

We're having cake... but there won't be anybody to blow out the candles.  (But you better bet I'm going to make a wish!)

Nobody to open every present, even the ones that are clothes, and exclaim, "OH, THANK YOU!  I JUST DID WANT THIS!"

Nobody to model all those new outfits like she's destined for the catwalk.

There's a hole.

An hole that was left in my heart the last time I saw her... that will never be filled without her.  Not just some kid.  Her.  One of a kind.  My A.  The little girl who could light up any room, and yet still manage to throw the most royal temper tantrums.

That's what I feel this year.  A hole.  An empty hole.  An empty chair.  An empty bed.  My empty arms.

In everything I do, in every moment... empty.

I would give anything to make it different.

Happy tenth birthday, princess.  We'll celebrate... someday.

Where I've Been

Not sure anyone noticed, but I've been somewhat absent from blog world lately due to personal concerns.  I had two surgeries in late March/early April to remove over 25 kidney stones that had formed on both sides of my body, the largest around 7 mm (too large to pass).  Unfortunately, I reacted poorly to the stent, and then to the stent removal after the second surgery, resulting in three ER visits and two hospital admissions.  In fact, I spent my birthday in the hospital, which was not exactly how I wanted to spend it, but my family and my nurses helped me make the best of it.

As of right now, I've been home since last Tuesday being treated for swelling/inflammation around my right kidney that they think was caused by the surgery combined with some old scarring.  I'm praying hard that this treatment works, because I've been semi out of commission for almost a month now, and I'm not enjoying it!   Unfortunately, since then, some other 'when it rains, it pours' type things have cropped up, so I haven't felt much like writing.

Anyways, just thought I'd update in case anyone is reading and let them/you know that I'm hoping to be back to myself soon.

Looking Back on 2012

I did this last year, and this year has been another... eventful... life-changing... year... so I'm doing it again.  And praying that this time next year, when I look back on 2013, happy memories, not sad ones, are what come to mind first.

January
2012 actually started on the best note possible.  I hadn't seen my two youngest DBKs, A and AJ, in over four months.  I missed them terribly and I hadn't been feeling in the holiday spirit at all.  On January 1, 2012, I saw them again.  Watched them open their Christmas presents.  Held them in my arms, hugged them tight, told them I loved them.  It was a perfect day.

AJ, 2 years old

A, 8.5 years old

After that we had to slowly get back to reality.  It was tough.  I had my heart broken for orphans around the world with special needs.  I wasn't sleeping well at night, staying up late to pray for children according to events in their time zones.  I was having no success finding a job to aid in paying the bills, and anxiously awaiting tax refunds.  Even though it started so perfectly, January was a rough month... a month of wait and see.

February
In February things got a little better.  Taxes came through to pay the bills.  I started working on getting licensed to do childcare for my friend's kids.  It seemed like there was a light at the end of the tunnel.  I was also gearing up for two exciting trips - a statewide conference on Child Passenger Safety which would be held in April, and a national conference in Orlando, Florida on national highway safety priorities which would be held in June.  I had been granted a scholarship to attend both by our local Safe Kids Coalition.  I felt like things were going to be looking up soon - and they did, for a while.  Good news started coming down about the orphans I was advocating for.  More were making their way home.  Changes were being made in their home countries.  Families were committing to children.  I found myself more engrossed in the Reece's Rainbow community by the minute.

March
In March, the first thing that jumps to mind is something that happened one day when I was literally as far as could be from expecting it.  There was snow and ice on the roads, a rare occurrence here last winter.  It was late - 11 pm or so.  I was in my warm bed, under my electric blanket, writing about orphans, when my phone started to buzz.  Bill collectors, I was sure, but when I looked at the caller ID... it was the mom of my DBKs, whom I hadn't heard from since January 1.  I answered to find her distraught and needing me to come take the kids.  All I can say is that it was a miracle I made it the short distance to where they were living without incident on the icy roads, because I wasn't exactly taking it slow.  I was going to see my babies.  I picked them up.  They were excited to see me.  My heart was full to finally bring them home again, put them to sleep in their cozy, warm beds where they knew they were safe.

I had them for two days that time, and I never knew exactly why, except that it's likely tied up in what turned into a very large amount of police reports.  In any case, I was thankful to have them in my arms once more, even if I didn't know when the next time I would see them would be.

In March, I also began to share with my oldest DBK, M, who is not related to the other two, about the orphan crisis.  Poor sweet soul, it broke her heart to see all those children in such terrible conditions.  I found that we both needed to *do* something, and we also needed a respite from the pain we were discovering.  While my mind worked on what M and I could do together to make a difference for these kids, I planned a girls' night for us - we painted our nails, played games, stayed up late, and then went to a late showing of The Hunger Games, which was amazing and really played right into my determination to do something to make a difference.  M loved it and we began reading the books together, a couple of chapters at a time aloud, every night.  I'd already read them all - in three days, no less, because I'm one of those people who has to read books before seeing movies, but M, not much of a reader, wanted to read them and I thought it would be a nice way for us to bond.  And she only laughed at me a little when I couldn't pronounce 'muttations' correctly throughout all three books.  How do you pronounce it anyways?

As the month ended, I was feeling more at peace than ever... even if the future was unknown.

April
April is my birth month, and M's, and my mom's, so it was a big month around our house.  My birthday is April 6.  It was a Friday, and two days before Easter.  I'd been home all day, cleaning up so my friend's kids could come over while she went to work later.  It was when I noticed my 17 year old brother cleaning that I knew something was up.  I didn't dare to guess what.  I went on with my day.  My friend brought her girls over.  We all took a nap.  When I woke up, I went upstairs, where my mom was just getting home from work..... and had my babies with her!  My birthday presents were two big hugs from A and AJ - the thing I'd wanted most but hadn't even dared to hope for.  And we had another perfect day.  We played together, we braided hair, we ate cake and ice cream, and I was happy.  At the end of the day though, it became apparent that crisis had struck in their lives once again.  They had nowhere to go and would be staying with us, at least overnight, we'd discuss it more the following day.  Little did I know that when my mom asked for a couple hours with the kids for my birthday - she'd ended up getting me a couple months with them!  April found the kids moving back in most of the time, and many more happy memories being made.

M had her birthday party at Skate America - her mom went all out to make sure it was perfect.  I attended with A while my mom watched AJ, and both my girls had a blast, and I had a blast watching them.

At the end of the month I went to my statewide child passenger safety conference, which was great, but I definitely missed those goofy kids even if I was only gone for two days!

May
May was, most importantly, A's birthday.  Nine years old this year!  She didn't have a party with us this year (I don't know that I'm up to anything like her 7th birthday party... ever again) because she was getting something WAY better.  I was going to Orlando the following month for my national highway safety conference, and with my costs paid for, it cost me only a little more to bring her with me - and how could I not, with Disney World right down the road?  Pretty much everyone I know brought their families.  But since A's birthday was in May, it was a surprise super awesome present.  I wrapped up this big box full of balloons, travel supplies, and this sign:

She went to gymnastics that night so excited to tell all her friends and teachers that she got to meet the princesses.

The other thing in May that stands out in my mind is Mother's Day.  I honestly don't even remember what I got my mom, but I will never forget my very first Mother's Day gift.

Sweet A, when I picked her up from school that day, handed me this little sprout in a plastic dixie cup, and a carefully crafted card.  She handed them to me and said "Happy Mother's Day.  I just do love you SO MUCH, Katie!"

I nearly cried.  Later, after she was in bed, I did cry.  Because I'm not her mother, but I did a whole lot of raising her.  This was her way of telling me that she knew that, that she loved me like a mother just like I love her like a daughter.  The picture of the flower above was taken in the fall - it grew so far beyond that little dixie cup, we cared for it so well because that little flower meant so much to us.

June
Oh boy... talk about hot and cold.  June started out amazing.  Home with my babies.  Getting ready to go to Florida.  So much excitement.  On June 13 (a day which was formerly dark to me with history), I boarded the plane with my girl to go on our dream vacation.

We had a blast.  We met the princesses.  We played on the beach, swam in the ocean, saw family, went shopping, ate ice cream like there was no tomorrow, and took a million pictures.

Cinderella's Castle!

Beach for the first time!

Fort at St. Augustine

Then, on our last full day there, the world stopped spinning.  Crisis began.  As we were sitting there packing up our bags, A told me a secret... a deep, dark one that she probably never told anyone else.  I fully believe that it is only because of how far from home we were, how relaxed our days had been, that she felt comfortable sharing it with me.

It wasn't a secret I could keep.

I didn't want to make the call.  I didn't want to set the cascade of events I knew would follow into motion... but I thought I had to.  Honestly if I could go back in time, I would change that decision.

A tropical storm, hurricane, something, was brewing off the coast.  The sky had darkened significantly.  The waves were huge.  Red flags were raised on the beach.  The last time we played on the beach, it was almost deserted.

A storm was also brewing within me.  I fought to hold back the torrent of emotions I was dealing with that day and give my princess the final vacation day she deserved.  I tried to enjoy every single little moment, push the dark thoughts out of my mind and just enjoy her... but my stomach was in knots.

I will tell this story in greater detail later, although I won't share everything because it isn't all mine to share, but to make a long story short, we flew home the next day... I kept the smile on my face... it'll all be okay....

and then it wasn't.

That was the day I didn't even get to say goodbye to A before she was taken from me.  The day I didn't know I'd never see her baby brother AJ again.  I only saw A one time after that... and I hope she heard me when I told her I'd always love her.

After June 21, I spent the rest of the month in misery.  I felt sick all the time.  Nothing could make it better.  I can truly say the week that followed our return was the worst one in my entire life.  June ended darkly.

July
July was the month I tried to put myself back together... put one foot in front of the other... keep breathing... try just to survive each moment when each day was too much.  We hired an attorney to try to help A after social services let us down.  It was a road I never thought I'd be traveling.  The 4th of July came and went.  It's my favorite holiday.  I went to four fireworks shows, went swimming, spent time with my friends, family and M.  I enjoyed those things, I always do, but this year they felt empty.  Something was missing.  Something really important.  Where was A?  Did she get to see the fireworks?  Was she happy?  Was she even safe?

I was starting to mend.  Just a little bit.  There was still a big piece of my heart missing, but I was learning my new normal.  Then the week from hell struck.  It only started in July, but the worst of it fell there.  On Monday, July 30, I woke up to find my 17 month old kitten, Boo, dead on the floor of my apartment.  I almost didn't make it through the day.  I held him until we buried him.  I couldn't cry a single tear for a long time, and then one day they just all broke free.  I'm crying again writing this.  Another of the worst days of my life.  He was just a baby.  My baby.  I couldn't even sleep alone for days.  And July ended as darkly as June.

The day before he died

August
The week that ended July and began August was horrible.  It was supposed to be a good week.  Olympics, the State Fair, friends, but starting with the cloud of my pet's death hanging over us, it was just bad.  I can't recall the details, but I missed my best friend Angie (who had passed just over a year prior) dearly, something had gone amiss with A's case, I got into a fight with a friend, I was discharged from my doctor's office over a $20 bill, and probably some other stuff I don't even remember... I just remember that it was a very bad, bad week.  I buried myself in mindless television shows, sleep, and orphan blogs.

After some time had passed, I adopted another cat - mostly black, just a tiny bit of white on his chest.  I called him 'Soft Kitty' or 'S.K' for a week, until I named him Marbles because when he purrs (which he does almost constantly), it sounds like someone's shaking a bag of marbles.  I love him!  He's six months old now. I spent some time in the hospital with a kidney infection (two ER visits in one week is never any fun) and had a bad medication reaction, so I was feeling a little worse for the wear even by the end of August, not to mention having to find a new doctor because I have any number of medical needs that have to be attended to regularly.  All I could do was hope it would get better when the school year started and routine set in more firmly.

Marbles, AKA 'Soft Kitty'

September
Finally, a month that started out well.  At the very beginning of September, my friend Faith got home from Eastern Europe with her two newly adopted children, both of whom have down syndrome.  Another friend and I went to see them that weekend and bring some clothes for the baby (she was around 18 months when she came home, but the size of a 3-6 month old).  We talked a while, played with the kids, and I got to hold her sweet and precious baby girl, who thankfully will never remember having been an orphan.

I look dumb in this picture.  But she's cute enough for both of us

I don't remember much about the rest of the month.  It must've been relatively unremarkable.  I did go to the Buddy Walk with Shannon and Faith's family, which was a blast, it was my first year and it definitely won't be my last.

October
October was a month I didn't look forward to... at all.  Halloween, pumpkins, hay rides, costumes... did you know I took A trick or treating every year between 2-7?  It wasn't a holiday I was used to 'celebrating' without her.  I remember being rather depressed.  I also faced a good bit of financial difficulty that I was working to resolve, and we had finally been given a court date, which was looming frighteningly on the horizon.  It felt like limbo - there's not really any other way I can put it.  Like I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I was probably irritable and short with people I know and love, and for that I'm sorry.  I was under a lot of stress and I apparently didn't cope well.  As the month ended, my mind was occupied by nothing but what November would bring.

November
Not long passed before the tone for the month of November was set.  Our court date was early in the month.  We were in court for over two hours - which was nearly if not completely unprecedented for a case like ours.  And it was a rough two hours.  I will admit that I cried on the stand - to the point where my 'smudge-proof' (apparently not waterproof) mascara was running down my face in a raccoon-like fashion.  It was rough, and the other team didn't play fair, but I regretted nothing.  After social services let us down, it was the only thing we could do, the thing we had to do.

After court that day, I slept for two hours, spent some time with some good friends, and then slept for sixteen hours, straight and solid.  I woke up at 7:00, and thought it was morning (it was not.  It was the following night.)  But then I felt a sense of relief.  Not complete relief - we were still waiting on a decision, which could have said anything - but court was over and that in itself was a relief.

The decision, which, from my perspective was not favorable (although I will admit there are unknowns involved that could change my opinion) came just before Thanksgiving.  So much for being thankful.  I had my wisdom teeth out the day before Thanksgiving (we had our turkey early) and after 7 abdominal surgeries I thought it would be a cinch - I didn't even have to be in a hospital - but I'm definitely counting that as one of my worst surgeries.  I have serious dental fear and I do NOT like anyone messing around with my mouth.  It's actually still healing.

At the end of the month I picked up some extra work with a friend (I had already worked for one friend for the better part of the year) and things seemed to be looking up, teeth (or lack thereof) aside.

December
Through December I continued to work for friends and fundraise heavily for Reece's Rainbow's Project Angel Tree.  It was a tough month, mostly because of financial difficulties, but we made it work.  At the end of the month, I came upon the opportunity to work for a friend who I met through Reece's Rainbow close to a year ago and has three adopted children with down syndrome.  Her family was in need of a home health aide, I was in need of a job, and a wonderful organization locally agreed to employ me to work for her.  I've been doing that job just about a week now (officially - this is one of the friends I was working for unofficially previously) and I just absolutely love it!

I missed A and AJ a lot this month.  It was truly my first Christmas without them since A came into my life all those years ago.  I walked through stores, by the sections of little girls' clothes, touched the ruffled skirts and commented to whomever I was with how I would most certainly be buying this if I still had A.  Girly girl if there ever was one.  But I appreciated the time I had with M, we celebrated Christmas in the usual manner, just unfortunately less two kids.

I look weird because of the lack of eyebrows.

On the very last day of December, the little boy whose Christmas Warrior I was through Reece's Rainbow met his goal - meaning I had to make good on a promise I made at the beginning of Angel Tree - that if both Brett #19 and Elden 14G met their goals, I would shave my head - and that is how I would start out 2013... and I smiled on the last day of 2012 - not only because I was glad to see it go, like last year (and I was, considering some of the year's happenings) but because I was thankful, too, to see another year and have hopes for more good and even better things.

Because that's the kind of perspective spending a year advocating with Reece's Rainbow gives you.

Impatient

It's no secret... I'm not a patient person.  It's obvious if you know me.  Of course I give kids a little more leeway ("if you don't put your baby sister down by the time I count to three, you're going to have to take a time out... one... two..." *kid still holding baby, staring at me expectantly*  "Okay, I guess you're going to have to go to time out..." *Pause* *Kid puts baby down* "Thank you")  Yeah, I really gotta work on that whole 'never saying three' thing.  ;)  But outside kids - no patience for me.

Take today for example.  I can tell you probably half a dozen different times I've been impatient.  Last night, M and I stayed up all night waiting to go see a meteorite shower.  We busied ourselves cleaning, playing games, watching one of my favorite movies that I haven't seen in over a year because I always sob like the world is ending... finally went out and got into the car, drove far from the city, and settled in a spot at a state park to watch the sky.  Instead of shooting stars, we saw nothing but clouds.  Impatience from me.  Come on clouds, go away so I can so M the meteorites!  Alas, the clouds did not go away and we headed home, stopped for donuts, and came in the house.

Once in the house, I grappled through my bag and then looked at M.  "Where's my phone?"  Called it three times.  Both of us listened for it.  Looked everywhere.  Nope.  Left it at the state park, 25 miles on country and township roads AWAY from where we lived... at 7:00 in the morning when neither of us had slept.

Oh BOY was I impatient then!  I sure am glad nobody caught me speeding... I complained loudly about wishing I had a teleporter to go get it on the way there.  On the way home, I rested my head on the steering wheel at stop lights, whined about how tired I was, while M passed out in the seat beside me (I told her she could go to bed, she didn't have to come back out with me... she wanted to).  When we finally got home my stress level was through the roof because of all that impatience.

We slept for hours, and when I woke up, the first thing I did was check my phone.  You see, since my sweet Boo passed away two weeks ago today, I didn't feel ready to bring home another kitten right away, or even to look for one.  I was still hurting for the one I had lost.  Finally, last weekend, we made a trip to an adoption center, with no intentions of bringing a kitty home... just allowing me to see them and pet them and realize that I had been given an opportunity to give another cat a happy home.  After that I was ready.  But I'm picky and I had some caveats... I love black cats, it has to be black.  The lady at the adoption center said they're hard to get adopted anyways, because of superstition.  How horrible!  Me, always the one rooting for the underdog, was reminded of the PEOPLE societies throw away because they're 'unadoptable'.  Yes, black cat it had to be.  It had to be male - we already have one male, and though we neuter, we're unsure of what the dynamic would be bringing a young female home.  And it had to be young, young enough to bond with me.  Not too young to where it would be detrimental to its development to seperate it from its litter, but newly adoptable - or even an orphan.  Yeah, that's me, lover of orphans, even the feline variety.

The 'right' kitty wasn't at the adoption center that day.  I spent a week trying to get a hold of them to find out if they had any in foster care that would be ready soon.  Impatience set in and I put out an ad on craigslist.  Within hours someone had responded.  We e-mailed back and forth for a couple days.  Someone else responded and I e-mailed with him.  It was his call I was waiting on when I woke up... at 2:45 this afternoon.  And every minute it didn't come, I got more and more impatient, until I finally sent him an e-mail asking what was up.  Spoke to him and it seemed like things weren't going to work out today.  Nah, not gonna work for me - too impatient.  Sent a text to the girl.  She fortunately responded quickly.  Then things slowed down, waiting for arrangements to be made to meet the kittens she was caring for.  This time, it was after 6 pm, and I was so impatient that I was ready to get in the car and drive up to the cat adoption center again, just to check in person (since they were so hard to get a hold of) if they had anyone available for me.  Alas, as I got in the car to go, I fortunately checked my phone and realized they weren't even open.  Scratch that (no pun intended).  Went back in the house, checked my phone and refreshed my e-mail about a hundred times.  Finally I thought I'd be clever and use murphy's law to my advantage... set to work moving and cleaning under my bed so that I'd surely be busy and filthy by the time I heard from her.  No avail.  It is very clean under my bed... I even changed my sheets and MADE my bed, which I don't generally do (why bother?  You're just going to mess it up again!), and there was no word.  Exhausted from impatience, I settled on my bed, checked my e-mail and my phone one last time, and settled to sleep.  Word didn't come until almost 9 pm that I would have to wait until tomorrow to meet this new fuzzy buddy.

BOY was that a lot of impatience over a matter of 24 hours or less!

When I woke up, I was impatient for a new episode of a favorite show to come on.  Fortunately, I have my DVR set to record it, because when I realized I hadn't blogged today, and that I had the perfect idea, I went to my blog-zone... where I don't really pay attention to anything but my blog.  Right now I'm impatient thinking about publishing this post, seeing if/how people respond to it.

And do you know what else I'm impatient about?

Go on, guess.  It's not so hard, I promise.  I bet you know already, even if you don't realize it.



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Brett.  Angel Tree.  Every single day that goes by that his little face is NOT on the 'My Family Found Me' page at Reece's Rainbow.  Talk about refreshing something a million times - do you know how many times a day I check if he's on MFFM, where he is in the AT voting, whether anyone else has spoken up for him?

Have YOU voted for Brett in the Angel Tree yet?  He NEEDS your vote guys, this week's voting is neck and neck!  I'm impatient to raise the money this little guy needs to help a family commit to him.  I'm impatient to see his face in the 'winner's circle' on AT, and know that in a few months' time, his grant will have grown substantially.



And then I think.



And I remember my last blog post.



And I remember that in ten days, Brett will turn eleven years old.



Eleven years spent in hospitals, orphanages, and institutions.  Who knows how long he spent lying in that field, abandoned by his mother.  Who knows how long he waits every day (or MORE) for something to sooth his hungry stomach, for clean clothes or sheets, for the blissful relief of sleep... the things I've been taking for granted in my impatience all day.

Wow.

That's humbling.



And then I think again, and I realize something even more heartbreaking.  I've been impatient to bring a new kitten home for a week, tops.  How long has Brett been waiting to COME home?  How long has he waited to find a family to call his own?  ELEVEN YEARS!  At this point his disability is almost a blessing, because maybe he doesn't know how to be impatient, maybe he doesn't know there's another way to live, one with a family and a full belly... maybe he doesn't know enough about what he's missing to even be impatient.

But he's still waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

And every time I refresh that page, hoping to see his face on the 'rescued' page?

That's one more moment HE waits to be RESCUED.

Imagine waiting ELEVEN YEARS for something as vitally important as a HOME, a FAMILY, a full stomach... or just for someone to notice you!  Imagine the days, all blending together because they're all the same, each one of them without any news that you will get what you so desperately need.  Imagine not knowing how much longer you're going to have to wait... or if you're ever going to get what you so desperately need at all!  Put yourself in sweet Brett's place.  Notice him.  No, he won't know you noticed him today, but if we all share him, vote him up to the top of the angel tree, raise his grant fund... one of these days, his FAMILY will notice him... and no, Brett probably won't know that right away either... but then a day will come when someone comes just to see HIM, just to spend time with HIM, and the days he spends without the love and care he so desperately needs will be numbered.  And he'll patiently wait, each day, in the institution, for that day to come when he is free.

Please help me, don't make him be patient any longer.  Change starts with us.  If you can't adopt, donate.  If you can't donate, advocate.  If you can't advocate, share.  If you can't share, pray.  If you don't pray, vote.  Everyone, EVERYONE can click that little star above sweet Brett's picture... and maybe you'll never know how big a difference that makes... but it doesn't make it any less real.

Tonight... well, I'm still as impatient as ever... but not over phones or kittens or TV shows... over a little orphan boy who needs a family to call his own.  And if that's not a good reason to be impatient, I don't know what is.

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.