Thanks

You know, we've now reach the 6 month mark for our daughters being Stateside, so I'm feeling some (mostly internal) pressure to be kid of up-to-speed at this point. But the kids have been sick for almost four weeks (when you pass the same virus back and forth it NEVER LEAVES), and so at least two of them have been difficult (though they do take turns in this are) every blessed day for basically ever.

So you know, I'm not really feeling up to speed or adjusted to life as it is. Life as it is is still really draining. Even when they're not sick, I get tired of making four lunches and snacks and none of them being for me, while having to listen to at least one of them complain about it while simultaneously another is asking for a fork [which is hilariously profane in person] and another is saying "waddeee" [water] over and over.

 But I want to be content in this season, if though I don't think I'm going to look back and say it was my favorite, and I know it's possible to look back on the day and think it was a good one. But I'm struggling to care for them really well and care of myself well too. I mean, I have down time, but really taking care of my heart, soul, and body is still work, and uuuuughhhhh I work all dayyyyyy and I just want to turn my brain off.

So. I'm going to do something easy. I'm going to think of something that went well every day. Today Ezra and Stella organized the bookshelf (as in, all the books are vertical, instead of precariously piled on top/beside each other). And, when they were done, I heard them say, "let's go tell Mommy we did it together."

And it was REAL PRECIOUS YOU GUYS. Like this precious:

Enjoying an actual fire at the mountain house in August

And it's so, so special to see how bonded Ezra and Stella are. They are best friends. All the while Ezra is working out the difference between biological and adopted siblings, Ezra and Stella are knitting together our family in play.

This is a really special time for all four of the kids to be home before the "bigs" go to school next year (Ezra to first and Stella to kinder). And I'm really glad we all have it.

Pretty Things

You guys, I like pretty things. And now that I don't have my free time taken up with adoption stuff, I've had time to make some pretty things. It's how I stay sane on a day when, say, one kid spits out semi-chewed peanuts onto the carpet, another complains about fun things like playing in the bath, and I get kneed in the nose helping take another kid potty. But it was the same day where all four kids were delighted by my singing the theme song to the Octonauts, so #tradeoffs

It kind of started with decorating for Stephen's ordination. I bought a pompom maker and made some lil cuties just like these:

Wuv these.

 Then I started using leftover yarn from leftover projects (including, but not limited to, Stella's hair designs and blankets that I actually finished).

Like these more refined ones.

I've made some simple wreaths, like the one currently on my door:

Yep, love it, 100 emoji.

And this less-simple one I made for post-Halloween-pre-Christmas (so November, I guess):

It's hard to tell from the photo, but this is a pretty big wreath.

 Also a couple precious cutie woodland ones because *squee!* hedgehog!

I have more up my sleeves, but the real reason I'm posting these is to hopefully be admitted to a show or two to sell some things. I'll leave you with a closeup of Mr CutieFace.

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

I will sincerely try to update on our lives tomorrow. My chromebook at home can't handle our fancy camera's prowess, so I have to come up to the church office to use pictures. So that's why there haven't been many updates.

My Stephen

We were laying in bed tonight (keeping each other awake with rambletalk), and I was just so struck by how wonderful it is to have a husband who's willing to brainstorm with me about what we feed our kids. It matters to him, not just because he cares that our kids get nourishment, but also because he's the one who feeds them breakfast every morning. He's also the one who gets up with them every morning, and takes them potty every morning, and brushes their teeth every morning (and most nights). And lest that sound like nbd, please remember we have four kids. So two potty trips, two diaper changes, four mouths to brush, and four children in varying states of willingness to eat what he prepares all by himself.

Wee babes on honeymoon

Feeding these kids is almost always a thankless struggle. I'm very thankful our daughters don't have some of the eating problems that can come from food scarcity; they definitely have the normal little kid problems of "I'd rather survive on the minimum amount of calories to keep me alive so I can spend the maximum amount of time playing. Also what you're serving me isn't pizza so it's just not any good. Sorry not sorry. Also I'm so incredibly thirsty or I need a fork immediately oh wait no I need a spoon or where, where is the ketchup I obviously need for my lettuce."

Stephen and Ezra matching, generally being precious. Spring 2014.

[my mantra lately has been there are four of you and one of me. I can only do one thing at a time. I will put your request on the to-do list. You're welcome.] If I'm making life sound hard right now, well, it is. It's a LOT of output every day, with many tasks that don't intrinsically bring me joy. There are so many beautiful and special moments I have with my kids, but there are currently more times I have to dig deep into my place of abiding with God to have any hope of handling whatever is going down well. When they play together, or play well with me, it is sweeter than any other thing in life, but there's also plenty of grabbing and yelling and tantrums and selfishness and little people being just unabashedly sinful. It is draining to train four little people in empathy and love and, you know, how to live in a family. But, praise God! I don't have to do it alone, or even just with God.

My precious boys vs my sad camera phone, late August 2014

Stephen isn't a showy person. He doesn't plan exciting dates or write me love notes very often (though he did write me several songs about ten years ago). He doesn't habitually praise me in front of people (at least while I'm there). He doesn't buy me big gifts or do any extravagant things. Sometimes I wish he did, when I want to do irresponsibly-fun things I'd regret later, but I know that what I really prefer is his continual devotion to me and our family.

If our hands are full, you should see our hearts! And my head; I'm craaazy absent-minded these days.

I know he's really tired. But he doesn't sleep in. Ever. And he gets home straight from work, helps feed the kids (and often tackles the post-dinner kitchen), is the main put-to-bedder (I also have a role in the bedtime routine, but it's much smaller), and then goes back in to work making calls to raise support. To provide for us. He really does lay his life down for me. And I'd much rather have his help than for him to be telling people how amazing I am for doing everything myself, know what I mean? I am so utterly blessed to have this man as my life partner. I love my Stephen.

Process Update Pt 1

I know my posts have been mostly serious and fairly somber, but there's a lot of fun and a lot of normal going on. Cooking eggs, mopping the floor (not because I'm a tidy person, but because of the ants invading), reading books. Washing clothes I'm not willing to let a man I don't know wash for me. [okay, maybe that last one is less normal in America.]

Our house and my little confident girl. #adorbs

As I type, the girls are playing with towels they stole from found in my room. I'm really glad we get days like this, because it's much more true to real life. We won't be zipping in cars and waiting in offices for hours at a time at home.

Okay, this ended up not being a process update bc they're asking me to take pictures of them. #soadorbs

Sad News

I've actually known this "news" for at least six weeks, and most of you may already know this, but we are not actually eligible to adopt from China. We will not meet their net worth requirements. This was missed during our paperwork because we were deciding on whether to sell the house at the same time that we were deciding to adopt.

China requires a net worth of $80,000. We don't come close.

It was a hard blow to my heart. I had a lot of hope that, through adopting from China, we would be able to cross our t's and dot our i's and end up with a daughter on the other side of time & paperwork. I hoped to bring home that sweet little Treasure. I have cried and prayed and finally felt peace that, like the precious girl we weren't supposed to adopt last fall, we aren't able to because God has a different family marked out for her. I am honored to share a teeny piece of God's heart by loving these kiddos and praying for what's best for them, not just what I want.

We are proceeding in a different direction that I hope to be able to tell you all about soon. This is our last "go" of adopting, so I'm praying and preaching hope to myself that the past three and a half years of struggle has been leading up to this situation. To our beautiful, precious little daughters. #spoileralert

Big Adoption Update (part 2)

I've listened to (and sung, sobbing) this song a LOT in the past year. I never thought, three years ago, that our adoption road would be like this, and it has shaken me to the core several times. I have never wrestled with God's goodness so deeply as I have in the past two years, and particularly in the past year. 

Sometimes God is good to other people through you, and you suffer for it. It sounds dramatic, but loving the orphan is painful. Orphans are near to God's heart, and I think are a particularly tender spot for him (judging my his words). But I digress. I want to speak of God's faithfulness to me.

I sang that song up there out of a desire to be satisfied in God - to make myself satisfied. When we found out we were pregnant with Judah, I did NOT understand why God would allow make us become pregnant when we were still adopting. We also found out while I was still actively grieving the DRC shutting down. Just a couple weeks after we found out, I got the news that the agency we were using to adopt Helene was pulling out of the DRC completely, and that we would have no way to adopt her, donate to her orphanage, or even check up on her welfare. Which was devastating.

I was at war within myself, because I knew this little person was wonderful and precious and I did NOT want to lose him, but it felt like he was sabotaging our adoption, like he was forcing us to choose one child (him) over another (baby A). So I was resentful and ashamed at my resentment. And just really perplexed at how this could be God's good plan for our lives.

That brings us all the way until we got Sweet P's referral. When I felt the Spirit's whispers turn into solid confirmation that we shouldn't adopt her (regardless of our own feelings), I started to hold Judah and cuddle him as I cried out my grief. [Don't mistake me, he's been held and cuddled plenty before that. He's a little sweetie.]

In one of those rare, rare quiet times where both kids are asleep (and not sleeping on me) on Saturday night, I was delving into the whole "oil running down Aaron's beard" business of Psalm 133 (bc what), which led me to Psalm 23 as the most familiar place to me in the Bible that also talks about anointing with oil (bc again, what).

Y'all Psalm 23 is like Lucy's cordial (you heard me, Narnians); it refreshes perfectly. Really, every part had a blessing in it, but what I'm specifically referring to at present is this:

You prepare a feast for me
in the presence of my enemies.
You honor me by anointing my head with oil.
My cup overflows with blessings.

Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me
all the days of my life,
and I will live in the house of the LORD
forever.

And it washed over me: God gave Judah to me because he loves me and he knew I would be miserable without Judah and without Sweet P. I'm sure the world needed Judah to be born and all, but the timing was just for me. Ezra can be remarkably kind, and he is loving, but he almost never lets me cuddle him or hold him at all. God knew I needed Judah. His goodness and unfailing love pursued the me of right now when he made my ovaries be crazy in November 2013.  I didn't need to will myself to be satisfied with God. His love isn't feeble or inert; he knows what salve my  heart needs, and he orchestrates life to provide it.

Again I say, surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life. 

Stay tuned tomorrow for what the future holds. I suspect something with part 3 in the title.

Worldly Sorrow

If you know me IRL, you'd probably nod your head in agreement that I'm not the type of person to beat myself up about things I've done wrong. It's just not part of my personality to think of myself as a "bad person," and it took a long time (and a pretty serious downwardly-spiraling life) for me to realize I couldn't just do my thang in life and be okay.

And most of the time, I don't even mind that part of my personality - I married someone who's definitely the opposite in this area, and man, it just seems tiring to be wondering all the time if you're violating your inner conscience. I tend to think, look, if I do, I'm sure it'll tell me, amiright?

Which is why motherhood kind of threw me for a loop. Yesterday morning, Steve, one of our pastors, spoke on repentance. One point he highlighted was on godly sorrow versus worldly sorrow, and the Holy Spirit pretty much opened my chest and strung out the last two years before me, a huge pile of worldly sorrow accumulating mass every day.

I have been beaten down my worldly sorrow for my inability to be the parent I want to be for Ezra. I have been paralyzed by it, drowned in it. I have not repented nearly often enough for my lack of reliance on the Holy Spirit to make me more like Jesus. This worldly sorrow has robbed me of so much hope that God is able to do more than I can even hope for in my and my son's lives. Ugh, I'm so done with it.



Epilogue: It's kind of nice, isn't it? Eight years after my first real experience with repentance, I'm still plumbing the depths of God's grace and sufficiency and our relationship. I hope it never ends, exploring His love and letting Him in. He is so, so good to me.

New Jewelry! Fundraising Friday!

Check out my friends n my skillz, y'all:

Owlated Necklace

Nacre Moon Earrings

Whirled Peas Earrings

Skipping Stones Necklace

Triple Teal Necklace

Jet Shell Triple Necklace

Dirigible Earrings

Milky Way Necklace

Starry Night Necklace

Black Bean Earrings

Happy Wrap Bracelet

Stone Drop Earrings in Caramel

I mean, come on! For even more (like, so much more), visit Mrs Muenich MADE. There's another sneak peek up today, and everything will be up tomorrow

New Music!

The day finally arrived (yesterday)! Stephen put two songs online to stream and download. I know I'm biased and I married him partially because he makes great music. Still. It's fantastic (for a home recording).

The proceeds go toward our adoption, so that's helpful. But I'm most excited for people to hear what music Stephen can make recording in a closet and using free samples. :)

http://walksproject.bandcamp.com/track/words
http://walksproject.bandcamp.com/track/sunrise

Art and March

Y'all. I hate March. I know for sure I've said it before on here, but when the seasons change, I just about can't take it. I get so restless and wild-eyed. I desperately struggle with impulses while driving to get on the highway and just go. anywhere. Anywhere that's awaaaaay from here! But I also like the being trapped part (yes, my favorite people in the world trap me, in the best way), because it allows things my heart yearns for to bubble up to the surface. Things I usually just hush up.

Almost a decade ago, I started making art. It wasn't very good, but it was exactly what I needed. I can't make a picture look like the thing it's supposed to represent to save my life (seriously, someone should make a torture movie where the victim's lover will be shot if the victim can't draw a dog that couldn't also be a horse or an octopus. I mean, I wouldn't watch it, but still, you're welcome, creepy Hollywood execs.) But I love to put the way I feel in color. And to have to do it layer by layer for like a month.

Man, art supplies are expensive. I put everything I wanted to make a few pieces that are burning a hole in my brain, and, wouldn't you know, $150!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So. I bought supplies to make one piece. You will almost assuredly never see anything I make. But, just know, I've decided to not need to make things that are mind-blowingly wonderful in order to enjoy making. So there, part of me that can't handle not being immediately good at something. Take that! You won't quash my creativity under the weight of shame any longer. Also, you're a poopyhead and we're breaking up.

[It's actually more likely that we'll just drift apart.]

WotY

Finally, I found my Word of the Year (WotY)! Last year's word was freedom. Did I grow in freedom? Probably. I think, though, mostly I grew in my awareness of my own self-preservation. I wall myself in so no one can hurt me; but then I can't get out either. To stretch the metaphor, there are so many layers I've added to my fortress over my lifetime that one year isn't nearly enough time for me to say, "Ta-da! Healed! Wall down, moat filled in, barbed wire and electric fence and attack dogs all neutralized." But you know God. He tells us the same Story over and over, and it's better every time.

Anyway, I've been wandering all over my mind asking the Lord, "This word? This one? Oh, this is a good one! Is it that one?" But none of them were right. But finally it clicked.

Thankful.

I need a thankful heart like I need oxygen. This semester has me working 3-4 times what we'd planned for me to work (all with Ezra). On top of that, there are one-time things, like planning the food (and a breakout session) for our women's retreat, doing our taxes, selling our car and buying a new one, planning our Spring Break trip, fundraising for our adoption, etc. Ezra's definitely acting like a two year old (my darling fallen son). I've started a new workout routine and a new way of eating. And really I don't feel like I have a handle on a single one of those things. But they're all here, so I have to find a way to deal with them that isn't me losing it on the most important people to me. I run to things to bring me comfort; I try to escape for a while; I take it out on my husband who just doesn't understand and my son who really doesn't understand. But what I need is a thankful heart.

I have such a beautiful life. Do I wish every part of it were the way it is right now? No, duh, this is actual life. Actual life is refining. I'm so glad God uses actual life, because I'm sure not going to refine myself. Instead of being cranky at the situations God is giving me to learn and grow in, I want to be thankful. 

[*note: God, this is not an invitation to heap more things on. Love, m]

Exhaustion

If you know me in real life, you probably know that our son E doesn't sleep well. We've been working and working to try and find ways to help him stay asleep in his bed, but he's just not a good sleeper, and something happens every time we start to get a good thing going (staying overnight away from home, another dang tooth coming in, etc).

Normally we make do, but this past week, oh man. This past week I've had a sinus infection, which is not the end of the world (I sleep with my mouth open like a boss). But I've had a bad cough. One that's been keeping me up - last night until after 2. And it means that I can't go back to sleep in the morning when Stephen wakes up with Ezra.

I don't know how to tell when I've reached a point where I cannot function anymore, but I've got to be close to it. Having one night (or three) of bad sleep isn't the end of the world when you've been getting an uninterrupted 7 or 8 hours for weeks before, you know? But it's not the same when you've been deprived of quality sleep for almost two years.

Anyway, I realized today that I've been taking a lot of blame for Ezra's sleeping on myself - the if we'd done something different, he'd be sleeping well kind of responsibility that really is hazy. It's possible there's something that will help him that we haven't tried. I've been feeling like a failure since we don't know how to help him, and we just keep trying different things, and nothing is clearly working any better than sheer luck.

But the Lord is so gracious. Yesterday, Ezra woke too early from his nap. He slept too long to be able to go back to sleep, but he needed to sleep longer, so he just lay in my lap, dozed, and fussed for a half an hour (y'all, that is an extraordinary thing!). I got to hold him and love on him, and stir up those feelings of compassion, that, poor guy, he couldn't behave any better because he was out of resources to cope with.

During my quiet time today, I was just telling the Lord how utterly spent I am. The total exhaustion that says, "I have nothing left to give." He had me go lay down in our bed and reminded me of yesterday, when I was holding Ezra. The Lord isn't upset or disappointed in the way we've parented E. He isn't even upset that I haven't been "on good behavior" lately. He knows I'm spent. He knows my "poor little body" has had to run on less than it needs for a long time. He understands I can't pull it together. He wants to pull it together for me. He wants to carry me when I can't even stand anymore. He doesn't wish I was stronger or better or different.

It was just what I didn't know I needed to hear. Thanks God, for being so good.

This is not adoption-related

BUT IT WAS SO DELICIOUS SERRRRIOUSLY.

This. I think I'm the only person in the world who makes roasts in my slow cooker that turn out between meat and shoe leather in texture, but surely I'm not the only person. Right?

Anyway, I wanted something delicious to do with a roast that was on sale, and I decided to do this recipe (heck yes I linked to it twice. Is how we do.) If you offered me a thousand dollars right now, I still wouldn't be able to tell you which roast cut it was for sure. But it was $2.38/lb.

Anyway, I also used a can of both Campell's French Onion Soup and Beef Consomme (because it's towtally better than lame old broth), and a great can of dark beer called Old Chub. It's the best beer I've ever had from a can. Plunked it all in our slow cooker, set it on low, and it was done in 5 hours' time or so. I'm guessing you can tell when it's done because, you know, the meat is cooked.

Anyway, since our HEB doesn't have hoagies (do they? I've wandered around looking), we used bolillos, which we toasted in our toaster oven (how can anyone live without a toaster oven?) with slices of provolone.

I wish, oh how I wish I could make you be able to take the deliciousness from the other side of the screen. But if you have a chance, try this recipe. You will only regret it if you lose all self control, eat way too much, and then feel icky afterward. Not that that has ever happened to me.

State of Grace

Yes, it is a Taylor Swift song. I'm not super-taken with it (it's pretty much a U2 song written by TSwift), but it struck me.

I used to feel really uncomfortable with singing songs to God that could be sung to a boyfriend. I just thought it was weird. I suppose a lot has changed, since now I love singing songs about people's boyfriends to the Lord.

In a season when I've been confronted with my own rocky heart, with its walls and padlocks and stiff-arm'ed "KEEP OUT" signs, aimed against the two people who love me most, it was a comforting realization from the Holy Spirit that I'm not who I once was. I am in a state of grace, and the Lord and I are working on tilling the hardened soil of my heart, in weeding out lies, and in watering the Words he gives.

I thank you, Lord, for your grace.

The Back Window

One of my "friends" leaves tomorrow for Russia [I put it in quotes because I don't actually know her, but I feel plenty of affection for her from being in the same virtual community. It almost counts, hence the quotes.]; it is the second of three trips in order for her and her husband to bring their toddler son home. This is the trip where they stand before the judge to be granted guardianship of their son (I'm pretty sure... They may call it something else; everything is different from country to country).

I am taken aback every time I think about it: leaving your child in an orphanage and flying thousands of miles away. It's like an automatic, huge, bright STOP sign blocks me imagining it. Of course I imagine it with Ezra, because this kiddo is their Ezra. I just can't deal with thinking about it, you know? The momma bear in me comes roaring out with a NO ONE WILL COME BETWEEN ME AND MY CHILD I WILL RIP YOU APART IF YOU TRY RAAAAAAWWWWR!

*ahem* So that's one of the things I really appreciate about Uganda. Yes, it's not the most stable program on the globe; and yes, the wait feels so long; and yes, we do have to be there for roughly a month; and yes, it's not going to be a month at the spa. But once I lock eyes on baby A, there's no reason I should ever have to stop. There will be no interruption of our bonding. I will get over the jet lag and still be with him/her (those first two days for me; it's like half my brain takes a power boat instead of the plane) once I perk up. Most importantly, baby A will not have to wonder where we've gone.

You parents out there, can you imagine driving away from your child, not being positive of when you'll see them again? How long would you be wrenched in your seat, staring out the back window, straining to see your child? That sounds like the very, very worst, right?

Then feel free to be praying for my friend and her husband (and their son!) that the 35-day wait period will be miraculously waived for them. With God, all things are possible (and our prayers move His Father-heart).

IT CAME!

I just knew it would come when we left town. The whole "watched pot" thing. Here is the best part of our beautiful, expensive piece of paper, in all its glory:

That filing date is based on the time we filed it with our signatures. It was originally sent in on July 20th. I'm sad my little slip of the mind cost us two weeks, but I suppose that's up to the Lord. Use it for your glory, I mean, if anyone can eke some glory out of such a silly thing, it's you, God!

Look, it's what we get. Now our His Kids, Too! grant is closed. Or will be at some point today... All in all, We raised $2,232* with them. It also means that, in the past few weeks, people have given $172* to our adoption with His Kids, Too! THANK YOU!

*I'm kind of extrapolating from the amount of the check they're mailing to our agency. It could be slightly more than that, since they have to remove the credit card/paypal fees from the amount given.*

I have some crazy exciting news to also tell you, but I'm waiting on permission. Stay tuned (for now, just enjoy the grainy screen capture of that piece of paper up there. I love you, piece of paper)!

A Quote for Beginnings

"Some of those apples will fall to the ground and rot. But God uses rotten apples - to fertilize the ground, to start more apple trees after little animals plant them, and just to make the air smell sticky sweet. You cannot know the depth of God's plan for your fruit. So throw it out there on the ground when you have no plan for its future. Waste it. [...] Be bountiful with your fruit and free with it. The only thing you can know for certain is that God will use it."
 - Rachel Jankovic, Loving the Little Years

Just a thought as our branches begin to bud.

Ezra is 16 months!

Okay, I'm not gonna lie... These photos are from exactly one month ago... WE'RE BAD PARENTS! Or whatever. I'll take a couple today and put them up. Oh yeah, happy 4th!

Oh, Daisy.

Developmentally, Ezra is moving along. He climbs ev-er-y-thing right now, but he doesn't always know how to get himself down (from standing on the coffee table, for example). He's started throwing little tantrums, but luckily for us he yells, not screams. He also turns in circles when he does sometimes, and it can be really hard not to laugh.

He's making progress on words - I feel so hesitant to say he's "saying" things now because he's clearly said some things a couple of times, but then I don't hear them again. But his favorite thing to say right now is "hot." I think because he can actually say it very clearly, everything is hot. It's kind of perplexing. He also said "water" (wawa) for the first time this evening. He says "day" for Django and he says "out" pretty well. He was saying "ice" really well but hasn't for a few days... is that a normal thing for y'all? It's like he knows he can say it, so he works on something else or something.

His excited face.

My favorite thing he's started doing is pointing to features on his face. His favorite (or the one he remembers most often) is his nose. He points to it and we say, "Ezra's nose!" like he's just done the most wonderful and exciting thing in the world. He's been experimenting with his eye (or really tear duct), and he knows our tongues and ears but hasn't quite gotten those on himself consistently yet.

He's also started trying to put our shoes on for us. I don't know, it seems so strange, but it's fine that I end up wearing two different shoes that are Stephen's some days. At least he doesn't try with his shoes on my feet; there's no helping them.

"Leetle leetle leetle leetle!" is what his grandpa sings to him.

He loves to read books over and over (and over and over) again, but lately he hasn't been "reading" them by himself much. I think now he's more interested in what the things in the books are called than just looking at the pictures.

He didn't gain weight from his 9 month well visit until the week before his 15 month visit (I kid you not), so he was in the 20th percentile for length, 5th for weight, and 90th for head circumference. Yes, he has a Muenich noggin. Love it!

 Watch this. It's short and amusing.

He's still kind of a perplexing eater: loving things one day and refusing to eat them for weeks after (or ever again, in the case of steamed carrots). I've been trying to get him on a snack-meal schedule, but I definitely don't have it down - I try to feed him and he eats like 2 peas and 3 cheerios and a teensy piece of apple and then his behavior falls apart 30 minutes later because he's starvicating.

I think he maybe should be saying more words, but I'm not really worried about it. He's a stubborn little person with a great deal to say, and more and more of it is becoming comprehensible. He's such a delight to us. He still has to be one of the happiest toddlers around. Love you, Pez!

Nap: le film

enfant: Ezra
réalisateur: Stephen

Serious Sunday

I may start a series. Or I may not. If you're expecting something stable and dependable from this blog, go elsewhere. Absolutely all of that gets used up on Ezra. Every single ounce.

Some church friends of ours came home this week with their daughter. She was born in China and was just adopted into the family God has ordained her to grow in since birth. I just kept tearing up all morning.

You know, with pregnancy, it becomes real (I think) pretty quickly: "morning" sickness/crazy fatigue. Even if you don't have that (lucky!), you still get to hear a heartbeat within weeks of conception. But I won't be carrying our next child.

I suppose I will have to work this out with the Lord, but, if I'm being completely honest, sometimes I felt like I forced His had with Ezra. Not that I can make myself get pregnant by force of will or something, but God allowed my body to be fertile, and, well, we got Ezra. I wanted him so badly we didn't technically wait until we like heard a "Now!" from the Lord or something. Stephen was willing to become a parent, but he also was very comfortable waiting a bit longer.

I divulge all of this merely to say, sometimes I feel like having Ezra was more of a selfish act than I care to admit. I yearned to have him and be his mommy. I longed for it for years (5). I don't really have some sort of clear calling that God wanted us to have him when we did. I don't regret it a bit, not even a little, though that makes me feel a little bad. [whoops, sorry for being so willful, God!]

All of that to say, when we bring our next child home, I don't think I'll be able to feel that way even a little bit. There's nothing biological about adoption. You can't just "whoops!" into it. It's not the natural order of things - it takes many, many deliberate (and often laborious) steps. When I was pregnant with E, there were several times when I was terrified that we had made the wrong decision; that we weren't ready to parent this amazing person; that we'd mess him up terribly. I think that's probably normal.

The thing was though, there was no going back; he was coming, and he came, and he's here. With adoption, at any point, I can say, "no." And it all stops. And at any point, God can say, "no," and we won't get anywhere. I don't think that's going to happen, and I'm sure I'll have several similar freak-out-times as I did when we were expecting E.

But it's just so humbling: God choosing you to parent someone He loves dearly. What a crazy responsibility. I cannot believe He's picked me. Now, if I can only remember that when Ezra bites me tomorrow. [He got me on the underside of my arm today. It really hurt. Really.]