Archive for the fam

My Peeps.

What to do on a nice afternoon, but take some pictures?

Yeah…those are my peeps.

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And then we were 8…..

Ya know, I always thought we would eventually adopt again. When I imagined it, she was a sweet, chunky little Liberian toddler. A girl, of course! And I would do her hair into little puffs and she would wear the cutest little toddler girl dresses ever. She would be our last baby. I had it all planned out…to a ‘T’.

Then of course, God had bigger and way better plans for my family.

This incredibly beautiful 12 year old girl, from Brasil no less, is our newest daughter. And we are all enchanted to say the least. We met Miss G, by phone, last July. She was in Brasil being adopted by an American mom. I knew them kinda through a friend, and I helped with translation stuff. We have watched for the past 15 months as Miss G and her adoptive mom have struggled. And not too long ago her adoptive mom decided that she could no longer be Miss G’s mom. And now here she is. Of course, its not really like *snap* and here she is. There are a lot of little details, gut wrenching intense moments, and heartbreak.

I have been trying to write this blog entry for quite a while. I’ve written and erased several times over the past couple of weeks. Trying to find the just the right words to explain my feelings about all of this.

And I kept thinking of this fabulous Ben Harper song called, Blessed to be A Witness.

The Chorus says, I am Blessed

I am Blessed

I am Blessed

I am Blessed

I am Blessed to be a witness

And that kinda sums it all up. I am blessed. I have this fabulous opportunity to witness Jesus in action on a daily basis. I am humbled that ultimately He gave me exactly what I have been desiring, one more daughter. She isn’t the chunky little toddler that I had envisioned in my head. She is way, way better…..

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M.I.A.

Here is the definition that my online dictionary gave for busy-excessively filled with detail. Isn’t that a great definition? I feel like I should get a cute tee that says that in big pink letters, cause that is what life has been around here, excessively filled with details. Not really bad details, but still make me run around and act crazy  kind of details. Goofy things like 3 soccer practices, and getting 3 kids ready to go to 3 different(new) schools, getting 2 remaining children ready for the homeschool year.

My little guy on his 1st day of kindergarten!

Here is Miss P, in uniform, on her way to full day school for the 1st time.

And in the midst of that we had the honor of having the cutest, sweetest, most fabulous baby around at our house for a whole week!

My cutie niece came for a visit! My very prego sis with baby #2 came all the way from Tennessee for a little vacation in Seattle. This was the first time we had all gotten to meet Miss Cutie herself and she had my whole entire clan just wrapped around her little finger.

.

And to our great sadness, they are gone back to Tennessee. There is no cute baby for us to all watch and laugh with.  *sigh* I guess its just back to school, soccer, and homework. *sigh*

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Learning Empathy.

The other night, as kids were getting teeth brushed and ready to head off to bed, I was flipping through the channels I noticed that there was a great show coming on PBS. Wide Angle. It would be about 3 kids that were abducted and became child soldiers in Uganda. It would be their story. So I started watching it, and slowly my bigger kids started trickling into the living room. We get a little background on the rebels and how long this war has been going on, and then they dive into these 3 kid’s stories. As we are watching Mr. O and Mr. H start pummeling me with questions. Questions about the war, about the children in Uganda, are they scared?, why don’t they just not fight for the rebels?. And on and on. Really good questions actually. I am trying to answer as best as I can and watch the documentary at the same time. Then there is this scene where this 12 year old kid is walking, alone, on this road going to see his mom for the first time in a year. He ran away from the rebel army and was now at this rehabilitation type place that tries to get ex child soldiers back to some kind of normal life. So this boy is walking. Mr. H says, ” I would be so scared to walk”. Then Mr. O answers him, “I would never be able to sleep at night being worried that they would take me again”. And on and on my boys go. Imagining what it would be like. Putting themselves into this little Ugandan boy’s shoes.

WOW!!!! I sat there stunned. You see, my boys have lived most of their lives in an orphanage during a war. Both of those circumstances do not breed empathy or compassion. It breeds survival. Making sure that you are safe. And here these two boys sat, watching about other children in a country far away from Liberia. A country that they know nothing about. And they felt empathy and they felt compassion.

The following days both boys still continued to have questions. And finally, they landed on the big question, “what can we do?”. What a fabulous question! Now they live in a country, where not only can we know what is happening in the world, but we can do something.

Here are some of the places we have found-

So, what can we do?

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And then there were none…..

Ahhhh yes, my friends, I am done with kids birthdays for the year!!!!! Its so nice, that its Monday and I know that this weekend I just threw my last birthday shindig for the year……

And there is the birthday girl herself. She turned 11 and had the girliest tea party!

Cucumber sandwiches, little teeny finger foods……it was girl hog heaven. Except for the fact that all these little girls, in their delicate dresses, found the boy’s guns and went outside and had a war! A war!! As my husband was leaving with the boys they were so jealous of this mysterious ‘tea party’. I told the boys that they would hate being at a tea party. Girls sitting around and talking about their dresses, rainbows, and puppies. But no, the boys apparently would have done great in the war that the dainty little girls had!

So now I get to sit back, put my feet up until next April (when my kids start having birthdays again)…….

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Boise…..oh Boise…..

We are home from Boise. (Did you know that Boise is very….deserty? I totally didn’t!)

So here we are after 5 hours of driving. At a lovely rest stop somewhere in Oregon. The excitement of the illusive Idaho was making all my kids giddy with happiness.

On our first day in Boise we went to this great park, right in the downtown of Boise.

This bridge took us to this way cool monument called the Anne Frank Human Rights Memorial. I gotta tell ya’, it was so beautiful. With the weird aryan nation stuff, this memorial was too great.

Miss P looking at the Anne Frank statue.

And what trip to the park would be complete without a little brotherly fighting????

Please notice the “twin” shirts. Remember that I packed up my boys, so I packed all their twin clothes…hehehehe……. 🙂

The whole reason we were even in the barren, desert city was for good ole’ soccer. Out team…well, let’s just say we didn’t do so hot this tournament(even though my hubby totally thinks all the refs were paid off. Yeah, I bet, all the refs were paid off. )

Yes, that is my hubby with his hands on his head. And he was probably yelling at the “paid off” ref.

Probably one of the funnest things we did was visit the old Idaho State Penitentiary. My boys LOVED it!! They even had an arms exhibit. Like guns and swords through the years. My boys (hubby included) just about pooped their pants. Yay…guns. Ooohhh…. more guns……wow, a sword.(yeah….seriously, it was lame).

We really had a great time in Boise. Although, folks in Boise are very…comfortable with their bodies. People just kinda walked around in their bikini’s and swimming trunks. Like they went to the water, and just walked back home in their bikini’s. On our first day in Boise we are at a major intersection about to turn into our hotel, and there walking across the crosswalk was about 6 people, in bikini’s and trunks. Just chillin’ headed to Starbucks. Every time we would leave the hotel my kids would count the naked people.

So Boise thanks for having us and helping my children in math with the “counting naked people in Boise” game.  I’m sure my kids will be much better counters now!

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Potatoes and those Crazy Skinheads!

I’m sitting here enjoying my coffee, totally procrastinating the job before me. You see tomorrow morning we head to Boise, Idaho for another soccer tournament. Originally we were to go to some big soccer tournament in California, close to Disneyland. So we were gonna make a big family vacation out of it. Go to Hollywood, Disneyland, and all things California. Then came the word that our coach decided not to go to California, but to Idaho.

“Hey kids, we aren’t going to California anymore. It would have been a really long car ride anyways. That would have been horrible, right? Instead we are going to……Idaho!!”

Of course the next question from my kids is what is there to do in Idaho (they were kinda hoping for a Disneyland in Idaho). So I paused to conjure up some great, fun Idaho knowledge. And all I came up with was potatoes and arayan nation. Then I kinda became a little worried about those nutty skinheads. Would they just stroll around Boise, with their shaved heads, like taking in the sights of Boise? Then would they see my clan and shoot us dirty looks and throw Nazi flags at us? My mind has been eased though since several very knowledgeable people have told me that as long as we don’t go up north we probably won’t see any aryan nation folks. BUT if I do see one, I’m gonna totally be like of those tourist that go into Amish country. I will soooo take pictures!

So back to today…… I am packing for our big trip to ……Boise!!! Now you might be wondering why aren’t I letting my kids pack themselves. I mean they are all big kids, very capable of putting clothes into a bag. Well, because my boys would choose outfits to wear in public, in another state, that would totally embarrass me. Like weird football jerseys(ya know, the ones with those tiny little holes all in them) with matching color soccer short. Here is an example, we have a maroon 49r’s jerseys, which always gets matched with bright red soccer shorts. They boys think that they look oh so cool, but they don’t. So I spend extra time packing up my fashion senseless boys and they don’t look like goobers walking beside me in Boise.

Ok, so off to pack……

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