How I Define Relief

I hear my 5 year-old son call out "Mom - what is the right way to hold an ax?"  My mind races as I rush around the corner to find him calmly playing with his new firefighter Lego set. Relief can feel so sweet...

When Did He Get So Smart?

So J.T. and I had several quick errands to do.  We ran in and out of a couple of stores and then headed into Bed, Bath and Beyond to look for bean bag chairs.

I haven't been in that store for years and the immediate onslaught of interesting things hit me as we walked through the door.  So many things I had no idea I needed, let alone had been invented!  As I was pointing out fascinating things, J.T. was hanging onto the side of the cart, clearly overwhelmed by the immensity of options for sale around him.

My delight was cut short when after about 2 minutes in the store I heard an instruction that I say to several of my kids fairly often but I've never had anyone say to me.  J.T. looked at me and firmly said, "FOCUS, Mom!"

I looked at him in surprise as I saw that at least 3 people looked over at us to see what kind of mom would need her four year-old to keep her on track during a shopping trip.  I wanted to explain to them that I don't get out much, but somehow I knew that would not make things better.

Sometimes I wish kids didn't listen to me...

J.T.'s selfie

Prepared

 Some members of our family struggle with impulsivity, so we practice slowing thoughts down and thinking through decisions and anticipating the consequences of our actions.  Other members struggle with the frustrating absence of memory when it would be SUPER helpful to remember stuff.  So we also practice skills to help jog memory or keep us organized when we know our minds just won't help us out.

Our youngest son is benefiting from all he overhears, whether he needs the skills or not.  So when it was time to go see Daddy graduate, this is what he looked like: 

 When you go to a strange college to celebrate your dad, it always helps to be prepared - for swimming, welding, or any natural disaster that might threaten your eyes.

Crazy stories continue...

One of the reasons that I decided to re-start this blog is that I have some SERIOUSLY crazy things happen almost daily in my life.  The only thing that gets me through them sometimes is the hope that I will survive the event to tell someone about it.  Someone who needs a good laugh and a moment to feel better about their own life...

Thought I'd share this one I emailed to my mom and sisters from about 3 weeks ago:

So yesterday morning I got up early to work out on our exercise bike. Before I could do that, I had to send a quick email. As I was working on that, M.C got up and I saw saw a bug across the room that looked suspiciously bee-like. As M.C. was checking it out for me, a yellow-jacket flew past my face. I got worried since we hadn't left any windows open the night before and there shouldn't be TWO in our house, right?

So I got up and went to check the windows in the living room. The windows and walls were covered in yellow jackets. I don't mean like 25, I mean hundreds. I started to panic and then noticed that our dining room (where I had been sitting at the computer on the bar) was also covered in yellow jackets. I sent M.C. to hide in the kids' rooms and make sure the little kids didn't come out. I woke up Chris, begging him to help me. I think his eyes might have popped out of his head just a little bit when he walked into the dining room. He really panicked then and ran to the air conditioner he had brought up the day before from the garage (because it's like 100 degrees down here this week) thinking that maybe there was a nest in it.

I decided we didn't have time for investigations. I ran and put the thickest sweats and sweatshirt on I could find, and started wacking them with a book as fast as I could. I had no idea what else to do. Chris ran and grabbed the 2 yellow jacket poison cans we had in the garage. As he got back upstairs I got to tell him of my newest discovery. In the ceiling over the double front windows in our living room was a round hole and yellow jackets were pouring out of it from the attic. We both realized at the same time that we could NOT whack every single one and survive the war ourselves. Chris started spraying so he could get to the hole. He got stung about 3 times on the way on his head and neck. Apparently they were fine with my hooded whacking, but they didn't like the poisoning guy at all. So he emptied a can and then blocked the hole, then emptied the 2nd can on the guys that were still left. We had yellow jackets everywhere. The guys that hid out behind furniture during the war came out gradually so we had to watch for them. It was complete insanity - like something some twisted comedy movie writer would think up for Steve Martin to act out (he'd have to put down his banjo though - you need both hands).

Chris' head swelled up so I poured vinegar on it and pumped him full of some antihistimines and ibuprofen and gave him G.J.'s epipen since G.J. was late for an appointment and I had to run out with him leaving Chris to man the watch for more.

So the interesting things are that M.C. has asked me several times in the last week about the scratching noise he was hearing when he was sitting on the couch by the front windows. I heard it too, but thought maybe we had a mouse. Pretty sure that our attic is full of yellow jackets...

Plus our bike is right next the windows that the yellow jackets were filling. If I had managed to get on it without noticing them, I would have been trapped!

The ONLY thing that saved us is that somehow they were all really calm. Maybe God spoke to them or something to keep them from attacking us - but it was eerie how calm they were. After Chris started spraying the poison, some angry, non-calm jackets began flying in the dining room door on the other side of the house that we had opened in case some wanted to fly out rather than being smashed by my book. Those guys were ready to attack. If they had all been like that, we might have had to use our fire ladder that lives in our closet upstairs (that we bought for foster care licensing in WA and have never used), to get all of us out while we decided what kind of pest hero guy to call. Someone with some really thick protective gear and a solid plan.

Also - we bought windows for the front of our house that are coming on Friday. We're going to install them ourselves. I am SO thankful that this happened on Tuesday, just days before we were going to cut into the wall where this gigantic nest is. Chris would have been up on a monstrously high ladder with no preparation for what would be coming at him. At least we are now prepared, and I have further confirmation that my teens are heavy sleepers since they slept through the whole thing and were surprised by our traumatized faces when they groggily came upstairs hours later...

Knowing When to Quit

So on the third day of kindergarten I woke up our daughter.  She got out of bed, groggy and grumpy and wanting to continue sleeping.  When she was semi-awake she turned to me and yelled,

"I JUST CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!"

I can relate, kid.

Weird Fun At Our House

Chris and I have been busy today trying to get things done. I put together E.R.'s new bed in her room and used the vacuum to clean under her old bed.

So all FOUR of my kids have been in her room for over an HOUR now playing with the vacuum. Now this is something that J.T. loves to do. But E.R. has always been terrified of it. As soon as you start the thing, she goes running into the next room, grabbing her precious stuffed elephant on the way. Who would have thought that a vacuum (that I use at LEAST once a day every day) could hold the attention of a 7 1/2 and 9 year old? But all 4 kids have been in there, without fighting, taking turns sucking things up, laughing, and cheering. There were no injuries, and only one minor fight.

Weird.

Apparently we can box up all their toys, and just leave the vacuum out.

Deep Thoughts by E.R.

So E.R. was talking to her Aunt Emily during a 4th of July Parade. She was enthralled with all the horses walking by, and particularly with one that was all decorated in pink, her favorite color. She was clearly imagining having a pink pony of her own, and talked about it for days afterward. But during the parade she turned to her aunt and said, "When I grow up................... well, first I have to grow up."

Eye Trauma

So yesterday evening while I was at work, G.J. was upset about something and went to lay on his bed. He started screaming in pain, and Chris rushed in to see what had happened. G.J. was clutching his eye and screaming that it hurt!

This triggered some major anxiety in G.J. that we hadn't seen for awhile. He refused to let anyone look in his eye. He slept for a few hours, cried a lot, and Chris and I weren't sure what to do. When G.J. is in that emotional space you can't talk or reason with him. He is just panicked and unable to think clearly and calmly.

This morning the pain wasn't any better, and his eye was red and puffy from G.J. pressing on it. He spent the morning with us taking E.R. to her Shriners appointment. Then I had to stop by work to take care of something, and then we were finally able to get to G.J.'s appointment.

His doctor put some green dye in his eye and looked in it with a black light. She was pretty surprised and said she saw something pretty big on his iris. I could tell she was worried, and she left quickly to get him an emergency appointment with an opthamologist in the building. Another doctor came in to try to look in his eye, and by then I realized this might be serious. Both doctors quizzed him on what could have happened - saying that it looked like some sort of trauma. G.J. honestly had no ideas for them. He didn't know what had happened!

We went to grab some lunch before the next appointment, and Chris decided to come help. He met us and took G.J. to the appointment, since someone needed to feed J.T. who had been an amazingly good sport through all of this. We also had M.C. who needed to be picked up at school.

So G.J. saw the specialist who was able to get in his eye and remove a microscopic piece of white plastic tucked into his eyelid. It was scraping his eye every time he blinked! After the removal and some numbing cream, G.J. felt like a new man.

It will take a couple of days for his eye to be back to normal, but apparently eyes heal quickly...

This qualifies for our freaky family list of "What in the World?"

Priorities

When Chris sees G.J. lounging on the couch, he asks with a bit of irritation:

"Have you finished cleaning the floor of your room yet?"

"No, I can't." (with an equal amount of irritation)

"And why not?"

"Because my hamster is sleeping and I can't turn on the light."

Welcome to the priorities at our house...and since hamsters are nocturnal, apparently there will be no more cleaning.

Lunch Choices

Me: "So E.R., what do you want for lunch - peanut butter and jelly, or.....?"

E.R.: "Cooookies?" (She says it with a really long oo sound)

Yep - maybe we've been having too many treats lately.

"Who Can Play?"

There was a loud banging/thumping on the front door. This always signals a neighbor kid stopping by to ask our kids to come out. Our street is quiet and safe, and there is always a group of kids playing in the front yards.

I opened the door, and sure enough, there was the little boy I had assumed was banging. (The first couple of times we experienced this, the banging was so loud and intense that I was sure it was the police evacuating our neighborhood or something - now not much phases me at the front door.)

He looked at me and looked past me with hope in his eyes.

"Can M.C. come out?"

"No - he isn't here right now."

"Well, can G.J. play?"

"No, sorry - he's with his brother."

Now there is a bit of panic in his voice. "Well who you got that can play with me?"

He looks down at the border collie/lab at my side wagging her tail as hard as she can to be noticed.

He looks up at me and says, "Wha 'bout yer dog?" - as she shoots past me before I can change my mind.

She is the best dog ever.

16

So I'm not normally superstitious. But I do pay attention to things happening around me.

E.R.'s first court date in Ethiopia was on Feb. 16.

Her second court date was March 16. No big deal.

Then Chris, Margie, and G.J. went to get her on May 16. Weird coincidence.

Then E.R.'s Shriner's appt. was rescheduled to Sept. 16. Getting weirder...

I just about fell off my chair when our social worker at Shriner's came into our exam room to tell us that her surgery had just been scheduled for Nov. 16.

Today the Shriner's surgery scheduler called to offer us a surgery date on Nov. 16. I told her that was already our day...

Now I don't know what to think, and I'm waiting for our next "16".

Language Barrier

So as sweet and funny as E.R. is, she is also a spitfire. She has a temper, and her own sense of what justice means. I've never had a 2 year-old yell at me like she does when she's mad. And we've had quite a few 2 year-olds, all of them with tempers! She yells and paces and waves her arms.

So since she's been in our family, often when she is confronted with something she has done or not done, she gets this stern look on her face and she says something that sounds like "Hoh me!" She always has the same look on her face when she says it. This whole time I have assumed it meant something along the lines of standing up for herself. She has such a strong personality it makes sense she would defend herself. Even when I am frustrated with her, I admire her steadfast stand when she disagrees. Many times I have wished I knew what she said.

Then G.J. tactfully informed me that she is saying "YOU'RE MEAN!"

Oh.

That sheds a very new light on so many interactions. Especially because I haven't addressed it this whole time. Name-calling in our family is not tolerated. Chris and I don't call each other names, and we don't call the kids names, so we expect that they do not call us names. I'm not saying that they never do it, but we address it immediately.

Oh boy...

Well, at least I know that her "Farry Mommy" means "Sorry Mommy".

At least I think it does.

What in the World?!!

E.R. loves for things to be dramatic. I often do too. So together we have lots of fun when something strange happens.

We got home from taking the boys to school and our faithful border collie/black lab was waiting for us in the driveway, all wet. Now she is ALWAYS in the warm, dry house. We have a fenced yard and she is not normally out front. She was VERY happy to see us, and very ready to get inside the house. As I was unbuckling E.R. I very animatedly asked her what was going on? Why was Kaia outside? Why was Kaia all wet? When did she sneak out? Etc. This is a normal conversation for us when a mystery is before us.

But today was different. Her eyes got big as she thought through all the possible reasons. Then instead of babbling back in her Amharic/English about what she thought, my Ethiopian-born 2 year-old, home for 4 months, looked at me, shrugged and said clearly in English,

"Just because."

What in the World?!!

So today my gifted, intelligent 8 year-old went back to school after a sick day.

As we were gathering the kids to head out, he complained about what felt like a bruise on his forehead. For the first time I took a good look at his face. He had several (about 5 or 6) 1-inch red circles on his face. Before I began to panic, Chris took a look at him, and I asked G.J. what happened. He didn't say anything, and then it all clicked.

I said "you've been suctioning your pop-it to your body again haven't you?" He truthfully and a bit sheepishly said, "yes". For the last few days I've noticed these weird red circles on my eldest. One on his back took a couple of days for me to figure out it was from a pop-it. Sunday morning he had one on his lower cheek, and I made him swear he wouldn't do it again, especially on his face. I gave him a good lecture about how nervous it makes people when you have marks on your face that look like they could be a bruise or a bizarre rash. Plus they last for DAYS. He agreed that it wouldn't happen again.

Apparently Monday night he forgot.

The pop-it now belongs to Chris who had to walk G.J. into class to make sure his teacher didn't think he was bringing a rare disease into the school.

What in the World?!!

Words to Make Me Smile

M.C., J.T. and I are having a pretty good week considering the other half of our family is thousands of miles away.

Tonight as I tucked M.C. into bed, he said "there's something I'd never want to happen".
I said with curiosity, "What's that?"
He said, "if we were ever separated".
Surprised, I said, "Me too, but that means you can never go away to college".
With serious conviction, he said, "I know".

Well at least we have that settled...

The little things...

So these are the ladies at Layla House who hand wash the laundry of the entire place. They hang it up at the back of the compound, and all is well unless there is a downpour. When it is nicely dry and stiff, it is brought into the cafeteria and the kids fold it and claim their clothes.
I watched the laundry process with interest for two reasons. The first one is that as the mom of a family of 7, including several children who love to work in the dirt, laundry is a major part of my life. I used to tell people that two of my best friends were my washer and dryer.

The second reason behind my laundry-fascination is that in January my beloved front-loading washer had enough. There was a horrendous grinding, banging, and very loud thumping. It was so loud, that our toddler at the other end of the house started to scream in fear, the walls started to shake, and for just a split second I thought the big earthquake had finally hit (we've been preparing for it in the Northwest since before I was born). When I realized it was the washer, I was pretty sure it might explode. I've never moved that fast inside the house. I turned it off and then watched the cylinder inside grind to a halt. What I didn't know until days later is that the whole drum broke off of whatever is supposed to hold it.

Through a series of very unfortunate events, we lived without a washer for exactly 4 weeks. Our bottom point came when in a single night before 1:00am we had 3 kids wet the bed, and for various unfortunate reasons, no pull-up saved us. I considered having a breakdown that night, but reminded myself that the laundromat was only 2 miles away and opened early. (It was also one of those times when as bleary-eyed Chris and I carried the soaked bedding of #3, we passed each other in the hall, exchanged a sympathetic look, and I smiled to myself at how much I love this man. Through all the years of struggle, surprises, and joy we have experienced together, when things go terribly wrong we still silently pull together and do what needs to be done. I can't imagine sharing my life with anyone better.)

I gave up on dreams of it being fixed quickly after the 2nd week and resigned myself to my new routine at the laundromat. I felt proud and a little martyrish as I ran in between kid trips to all their schools and activities to throw up to 4 loads at a time into the washers. Then I'd swing by an hour later with my plastic bags and collect the wet clothes to take them to my working dryer at home. I surprised myself at the ease with which I transitioned out of my dependence on my washer. I even told Chris that maybe we didn't need one anymore. - This whole deal was working pretty well. But then our washer was finally fixed, and I went back to the convenience of washing AND drying our never-ending loads at home.

So I marveled at the work that goes into the laundry process at Layla. But I didn't appreciate the full extent of their work, because in my month of washer-less days, I forgot one important thing.
The stomach flu.

We just survived a week of the stomach flu at our house. I can honestly say now that our washer is my best friend. Several loads of the kids' bedding had to go through twice, and I had to spray one blanket out in the driveway before I even dared put it in the washer.

This week I have only the highest admiration for the laundry staff at Layla. I pray for strong hands, backs of steel, cheerful perseverance, gloves that never rip, and most of all - mercy when it comes to the stomach flu.

"No Problem!"

There are so many other fun stories about our trip to Mukatore. We each rode in a horse buggy very far down the road from the orphanage. We visited the Portugese bridge that is amazingly old and connects two sides of a ravine on one side of a huge canyon. It is like the Ethiopian Grand Canyon. The canyon is behind and to the right of me in the picture. I had no idea there was anything like it there. The height and magnitude of its creation takes your breath away.

As we tried to leave the canyon area, I found out that the van we had rode all the way out here in, and the van we expected to ride back in, had to be pushed to jump-start it. Unfortunately, Tefera, our driver, and some nice and helpful men couldn't get it started. They pushed it off the road and onto a grassy area going downhill. Most of us were ready to pull a "Little Miss Sunshine" moment and jump in as we ran alongside it if they could just get it started. Just when I was pretty sure we might have to spend the night, and the rest of our team would never know what happened to us, the van started coughing and started up. The Ethiopian term that everyone says with a smile even in incredibly impossible circumstances took on new meaning that evening: "No problem!"

You Know You Are a Parent of a Large Family When...

You know you're a mom to a large family when you breathe a sigh of relief as you realize you have all the kids on their way out to the van ON TIME and you made sure that your 3 year-old had her pulled up like yours as requested, her Child-of-the-Week pictures and toy for Head Start, all teeth are brushed, extra pants for the 19 month-old (since you forgot yesterday), all necessary backpacks and coats. And you didn't have to yell once!

You are feeling pretty good about your mom management skills and you smile as a little spring finds its way into your step. You are good!

Then one of the first-graders calmly says, "Mom, you forgot my lunch." And you realize that you didn't just forget to give it to him, you forgot to MAKE it. You get everyone buckled, and trudge back into the house to throw something semi-nutritionally sound together for the kid, as you realize that now you are late. Ah, well. Maybe tomorrow.

Commercial-Proofing My Kids

We talk to our kids about marketing and consumerism quite a bit. It is partly because we want them to have strong values and not be sucked into wanting everything that everyone else has. Being grateful for the things we already have is important to us. The other part is simply survival. We live on an incredibly tight budget and most of what we buy comes from discount stores these days. We just can't afford to buy extra stuff.

So, I'm driving in the car and there is a radio ad for the radio station we have playing. It is a young girl talking about how the station has impacted her faith and changed her life. From the backseat M.C. says with disgust in his voice, "Mom, they just want us to buy a radio!" Apparently he's been paying attention.