Linguistics and Pumpkin Pie

Today I baked my first pumpkin pie of the season. It was completely perfect and beautiful.

Million also learned the word "car" in English today.

Linguistically, he is taking off as fast as bank employees at 5 p.m.

He knows "up", "light", "BonAmi", "Daddy", "Mama", "Yoda", and "car", although he doesn't pronounce them all correctly (for instance, although he can say the "l" noise, light is always "aight", but he's consistent in his use of it, pointing upwards, etc.)

He's also doing a lot of mimicry. Today I was scolding him while shaking my finger and saying "what you did was bad, bad, bad!" (He hit BonAmi with a rather large stick.) He looked up at me, shook his little finger, and said "bee, bee, bee!" as if to scold me right back. He also mimics "thank you" and "I love you."

Michael thinks I'm crazy or a nerd (or likely a combination of both), but I'm actually planning on making a little set of these.

In other news, we've made the transition to cloth diapering, and I'm pleasantly surprised that I love it so much.

I mean, I hoped I would love it.

But I didn't think I would actually LOVE it.

Michael again thinks I'm a nerd, because I've posted a little chart next to our washer for how many diapers I've washed. When I get to 500 or so, I'll have a party or something.

Hmmm... Off to have a piece of that pie.

Sundry Items

• We've had Million a month. We've been so beautifully challenged.
• My laundry is now folded and put away, thanks to a well-timed 2-hour nap on Million's part yesterday.
• I've made menu plans for the next several months.
• I'm working on chores for certain days of the week so I'm not feeling like I'm always folding baby socks (and searching for their elusive mates).
• We're looking for cotton pajamas for Million. They are pretty expensive.
  
• And finally.... A New Blog Haunt You Should Look Into. I hope she doesn't mind me linking here (I'll take it down if you do, Hill!), but I have a new recent favorite blog. My little brother's wife is blogging, and I find her tremendously funny. Especially this post and this post. You all would love her. She's witty, intelligent, and very insightful when you met her in "real life," and this leaks through into her writing.

Picture-esque Life

There are two reasons Million was in his bear/dog/wolf (we can't decide what it is) suit.

One was an extensive diaper blowout requiring that I reach for the closest outfit. The other was the fact that his behavior was so despicably naughty and irritable, that I needed to put him into something cute to average my opinion of the day out. ("The night Million wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind... and another...")

It worked. Just saying.

This next picture may or may not have been taken the day I semi-forced Million to watch the opening scene from Oklahoma before breakfast.

This is the day when Million and Daddy dressed separately and both decided to wear superhero shirts. Million is giving me what we refer to as the "stink eye." Daddy's looking a little glazed over.

Million is loving Minnesota grass. He thinks it tastes great.

Keeping it real.

This is how it is around here, lately.

The laundry gets cleaned and dried, but not folded.

And very seldom put away.

Today, Michael gave me 15 minutes by myself to switch out Million's clothing sizes in his dresser drawers and to get a pile of unused baby things ready to give to my first nephew or niece who is brewing. I also used that 15 minutes to put Million's laundry away. Because he's the one that's a challenge to dress.

We'll be starting cloth diapering this coming week, as we've run out of disposables. We had to let some parasites die. Actually, we didn't "let" them die. We forced them to die.

I think that's a fairly optimistic clear depiction of our days around here. (Because we don't take pictures of the hazy and pessimistic moments.)

What We're About

Gosh.

This is becoming an adoption blog again.

Not what we're going for, here.

What have Michael and I been up to, other than parenting?

Michael has been working on finding a job in his new career field. Anywhere in the States. He's also been doing a lot of little projects here and there around the house that will make winter a lot easier. Do remember that the past three years our first snow has been around October 12th, so time is of the essence here.

I've been working on both re-teaching myself history. (I had a series of very poor teachers for that subject that made me dislike it so... Therefore, I decided to teach it to myself. I've gotten up to the fall of the Phoenicians.)

I have great ambitions for some knitting, crocheting, yarn-spinning, candle making, and other craft projects this fall.

Aside from the "adoption side" of parenting, I've also been working on being very intentional about what we teach Million and when. I've found a lot of great ideas on this site, and I love her philosophy of intentional play---although we REALLY don't want that many toys around our house and I have to work at finding ways to use things we have around the house for some of her ideas.

Yesterday afternoon we had a bit of fun playing with clothespins and working on motor skills.

Of course, being a boy, the game didn't stay this delicate and intentional for very long, maybe 5 minutes at most. Then it was swishing all of the clothespins around, or trying to stand in the clothespin basket.

How Very Alike We Are.

I was going to post something about how being a mother should require a Haz-Mat licence.

But as I sat there feeding and rocking my son, while I was covered head to toe in no less than four of his bodily fluids, I began to cry. Self injurious behavior and behavior that is injurious toward other people has been our focus lately. That and health and sleep concerns have been reigning supreme.

But there in that rocking chair, covered in filth, I felt disgusted with myself, and to be honest, a little disgusted with him too.

Suddenly, I remembered that he has the same "problem" that I do.

His problem stems from lack of trust.

I have that same problem.

I don't trust God at times. My self-injurious behaviors are just a little more socially acceptable, like over-committing myself socially because I don't believe God will provide enough entertainment, satisfaction, ego-stroking, etc.

I also injure myself by closing myself off to God, just like Million often shuts his eyes just so he doesn't have to look at us.

Just like Million, I injure myself and other people to soothe some parts of my inner being. (For me it is a sinful part of my being.)

And yet, God still holds me. God still feeds me. God still loves me. Despite my disgusting self-worship and injurious habits, God takes care of me and nurtures me.

So as I rock my son to sleep, I have a new prayer. A prayer of thanksgiving for this morning's heartaches. A prayer of renewed dedication to healing. A prayer of trust in God's timing and plan. And a prayer of love to my Father who helps me to heal.

Library Trips

Our first trip to the library resulted in many stares and scowls today.

You see, our son is a vocal being.

And we live in very proper German Minnesota.

We don't break rules here.

It's just not allowed.

And he just wanted to talk to every person there in a "definitely not library material" voice.

However, I was able to procure two books, one knitting and one very mild history encyclopedia, for myself to read. Michael was able to reserve some of the latest computer programming certification manuals so he doesn't have to buy them at Barnes and Noble.

However, our little book worm in residence should probably just stick to Maurice Sendak and Spike Lee for another 30 thousand reads before we go into the library. Which will likely be next week.

Lost Ground

We lost some ground this weekend.

We altered our routine and introduced people.

And lost ground.

I don't regret seeing family.

I do regret caring what people thought so much that we stayed away from home longer than was good for Million. We placed our social needs above the needs of our son, and regret it completely. Parenting fail number 8 million and 3.

The process of adding people into this equation is not fun. It's like peeling back a bandaid and then realizing that you still need the bandaid on.

Especially difficult is the consideration that we're throwing some behavioral issues into the mix.

Because even if they're the kindest people in the world, and even if no one verbally criticizes us to our faces, my brain goes into hyperanalytic paranoid mode.

Million did xyz naughty thing. I bet they think I'm too harsh or too lenient.

Million does xyz cute and adorable thing. I bet they think we're crazy because we see it as a cry for attention and parent shopping.

Sigh.

First grandchild on both sides of the family...

God, give us grace.

We need it.

Piglet's Morning

By and by Piglet woke up. As soon as he woke, he said to himself "Oh!" Then he said bravely "Yes," and then, still more bravely, "Quite so." But he didn't feel very brave, for the word that was really jiggeting about in his brain was "Heffalumps."

What was a Heffalump like?

Was it Fierce?

Did it come when you whistled? And how did it come?

Was it Fond of Pigs at all?

If it was Fond of Pigs, did it make any difference what sort of Pig?

Supposing it was fierce with Pigs, would it make any difference if the Pig had a grandfather called TRESPASSERS WILLIAM?

~excerpt from Winnie-the-Pooh by A. A. Milne

_______________________________________________

Like Piglet, I often awake with fear and many questions on my mind.

Questions about how I'm doing as a Christian, as a wife, as a mother.

Occasionally about how I'm doing as a daughter, sister, friend.

There isn't really any swift resolution or end-all answer to my questions.

And unfortunately, my grandfather's name was not TRESPASSERS WILLIAM.

Shoot.

That would have made things so much better.

New Uses For Old Items: Specimen Container Edition

Among the more interesting things on my nightstand right now is a never-used urine specimen container with three marbles in it.

One of Million's new favorite toys.

You can't use those containers if the seal has been broken prior to your collection.

And let's say we had a "bad collection" in which someone broke the seal on the container thinking the little sticker collection baggie wouldn't have fallen off. Someone turned out to be wrong.

Last night after doing everything possible to tire a child, I decided I needed a 20-minute nap before Michael left for the evening.

It was during that 20-minute "nap" (read:covering my face with a pillow and pretending I wasn't in the same room as the boys) that Michael put the marbles in the urine specimen container. The boys (all three of them) marched and swaggered proudly around the house with their noise-maker. Michael employed his best crazed scientist voice and was shouting "Million, take precautions with your specimen." There may or may not have been jokes about kidney stones passed back and forth between the adult members of our secret scientific society.

Not thinking we'll ever lead a "normal" life, from the way it's looking.

Chewing Crushed Glass = Similar to Yesterday

Yesterday was pretty inspiring.

If nothing else, we learned that Million could easily win a SYTYCIS (So You Think Your Child Is Crabby) competition hands down.

Please hand us the prize money right now.

We could use it.

Some thoughts that actually crossed my mind yesterday...

"Wait. Wasn't there supposed to be a honeymoon period in adoption, according to all of the adoption books, where Million actually pretends to like us? If this is the honeymoon then I just can't wait to find out what's next."

"I can't believe I'm a mother failure. I just let my son lick the ice cream cone that I bought in pity for myself because I was crying about him not eating the camouflaged medicine that's so dang expensive."

"I'm glad it's Michael he hated after the immunizations and not me."

"I wish it was Michael he was hating right now and not me."

etc.

So glad that each day brings a new start.

Forgiving myself for being human helps.

Forgiving my son for being human also helps.

Flawed humans + other flawed humans = (usually) a messy, complicated life.

And messy and complicated, broken, and failing things almost always are the most beautiful in the end.

I keep telling myself that.

This morning was beautiful.

And not just because of Amy Butler fabrics.

He slept in until (Hallelujah Chorus) 5:30.

After which Michael entertained him until 6:45.

When I gave him a morning bottle and he fell asleep next to me in bed.

Last night was the first night since coming home that I didn't get our evening dishes washed before going to bed.

I gave myself a free pass from washing the dishes to spare some tears.

I would have cried about a miserable attempt to camouflage one expensive little pill in a food that (I didn't know) that Million doesn't even like.

Guess what we're going to try to change the taste of today?

A Lesson In Yellows

This is the part of the show where I was going to blog a very long time about paint colors.

But, for your sake, I've shortened it to say, my parents painted our upstairs hallway while we were gone. (The wall going up the stairs in these pictures).

And the thing that I'm still getting used to is the difference between natural day-time lighting

and night-time fluorescent lighting.

Speaking of yellow, my lemon tree is pregnant again.

See that tiny little baby lemon along the bottom of the window?

Yes. We don't have a predictable due date, as winter will likely be coming to Minnesota in October again this year.

I'm trying to decide whether or not to pollinate another blossom so we get more lemons.

Makes me feel like I'm growing test-tube babies in a way...

And since you've made it this far, here is some of the sunshine from my day yesterday.

This is his "hey mom, look, I don't have rickets like the doctor thought I did" smile.

Or I was just interpreting it that way.

Regardless of that happy news, we're spending part of the day at the doctor's office today for some other conditions. Hoping for more good news.

How I'll Screw My Child Up: Alphabet Cards

A dilemma of serious import:

To make/create alphabet cards to hang around our living room or not.

In one of my educational books I read, (I'm pretty sure it was The Well Trained Mind, but please correct me if I'm wrong) the author discouraged alphabet flash cards with pictures on them because children began to associate letter with picture, picture to sound and had to make that extra jump when learning phonics.

And then I was reading Melissa Fay Greene's new book, in the chapter about her son Jesse not having any exposure to signs or alphabet toys caused him a learning detriment in his reading readiness.

So pretty much either way I swing it, I'll mess Million's brain up.

One way, he'll have to make an extra jump in phonics.

And the other way, I'll delay his reading readiness.

Sigh.

I think they're pretty cute anyway.

Because you deserve some pictures.

Million decided it was high time BonAmi wore some clothing.

And after BonAmi obliged ever so gracefully (read: ran to me and hid behind me), Million satisfied himself by reading a book.

Morning Misty Walks

Today is Michael's first day back at work, so Million, BonAmi, and I took a several-mile walk through the morning mist (Million in the Ergo).

As I walked through the mist this morning, my son nodding off, I was reminded of the many foggy mornings years ago when I was taking an advanced course in renaissance and reformation. Probably partially due to this memory, the discipline of lectio divina popped into my mind

The spiritual feast.

Am I feasting or fasting?

Kind of a personal question, isn't it?

One which I'm not going to answer right now, for my son is beginning to stir.

The mist also reminded me that autumn is on the way.

My favorite season.

A season of promise and new beginnings.

Car rides with the heater on.

Apple orchards.

Football games.

Pumpkin seeds.

Mulled spices.

Beauty in every moment, but especially compounded by the realization that life is short. Just like the lifespan of a leaf, our lives are temporal, over in the blink of an eye. Death comes, flanked by its cohorts pain and grief.

But there is the promise of spring after a long, cold, dark winter.

And that's my favorite part of fall.

The hope that comes with loss.

Friday. Beautiful Friday.

We are officially unpacked.

The laundry has been done, much of it two or three times, due to scabies exposure and treatment.

Lovely.

The dishes have been done. About 70 of our adoption announcements have been sent out.

Michael has also fixed the car and lawn mower, taken a large test on genetics, and mowed the lawn.

We've been on about seven walks and played on a playground close to our house.

Million can now walk both up the hill and down the hill in our back yard. (It's teeny...don't worry.)

Last night I remembered that we had a breadmaker. Whole wheat never tasted so beautiful in my life.

I started reading Melissa Fay Greene's "No Biking in the House Without a Helmet" last night. I'm enjoying it. My mom stopped in at our local library and told them that we had our babe home, and so the librarian gave me almost a month loan on the book. Small town life has its advantages.

I'm finding it hard to not over-do the stimulation for Million. I'm a person who loves to be out and about, always doing something, and when possible, multitasking. (Nap time is Captain Insaneo Chore Time.) We did go to the doctor's office three days ago and to pick up Million's prescription's at a local Wal-Mart pharmacy on Wednesday. Are those my "joy rides" for the week? Seriously?

At the same time, this staying at home is bearing fruit---albeit small teeny bits of fruit.

Million's started mimicking us. In good ways.

Spike Lee's "Please, Baby, Please" is one of Million's favorite books, and he's now started echoing "baby, baby, baby!" We're not sure he knows what he's saying, but he's having a lot of fun vocalizing the sounds.

I'm also pretty sure he pronounced BonAmi "bunny" today.

This morning, as I was in the bathroom putting my contacts in and brushing my teeth, I heard a happy noise...

A man reading a boy "Where the Wild Things Are" for about the twentieth time this week.

"Oh look. They're rumpus-ing. Rumpus, rumpus, rumpus. They're rumpus-ing some more! Rumpus, rumpus, rumpus!"

It evoked that same blissful "I shower with squirty toys on the bathtub floor" feeling...the feeling that I know might wear off over time.

So I'm relishing in it now.

The best part of waking up is not Folgers in my cup.

It is realizing that I'm making this journey with three amazing and resilient manly beings.

I've been learning so much about myself and about God from our son.

Imageo Deo.

Created in the image of God.

With relational capacity, intellect, choice, and emotions.

And a whole lot of all of them in one teeny little body.

First Injuries and Doctor Appointments

Million received his first bodily injury (other than his six times daily konked head from head-butting things and a little sting from rubbing shiro wat in his own eye) while both Michael and I were in the same room with him yesterday.

Million was running quickly and not watching where he was going. He fell and bit his tongue.

I felt horrible. I still do, despite the fact that he has little boy scars and scabs all over his body from tumbles and spills. He's missing almost his whole fingernail on his right thumb, for crying out loud. I shouldn't feel THAT terrible. But I do. There is nothing like hearing your child wail and seeing blood to produce both fear and guilt. And knowing that we can't ice it because he absolutely hates cold sensations in his mouth (we tried a little ice cream on the plane, and he detested it. That's pretty typical for kids from our agency's transition home in Ethiopia.)

His tongue is perfectly fine today and is scabbed over.

Yesterday, though, he made the most of his injury. By sticking his fingers in his mouth and repeatedly inducing the pain sensation.

It was lovely.

We all had great attitudes by 2 p.m.

And then we had our international adoptee evaluation, which he behaved absolutely beautifully for until the blood draw. He didn't know enough to be scared of the otoscopes and laughed when the doctor was assessing his abdominal tone. He also liked the chest x-ray technicians. And he liked being able to choose a rubber ducky after the blood draw. He chose a hippie duck. That's my boy.

I'm not sure yet how much I want to share about Million's health conditions on this blog, so that's all I'll be saying about the doctor appointment yesterday.

I have to go get some lunch made while Million is napping. Hope you're having a great day!

Boy And Dog, An Unanticipated Love Story

Dear BonAmi,

Thank you for tolerating nose-picking, tail-pulling, face patting, being chased, and being open-mouth kissed today with a charm that puts you in a class with Audrey Hepburn and Julie Andrews. The new tenant will hopefully be learning very swiftly that your water dish is not his and that your bones are not delicacies for him.

We appreciate you.

Sincerely,

The management.

P.S. I hope you liked the extra food you were "gifted" today.

______________________________________________

We are home.

We came home to some very special people and have never felt so welcomed in our lives.

We were given some pretty amazing gifts for Million's homecoming.

We also came home to find that our house was cleaned and fixed up a bit more (read: some walls painted, some wood stained, many things organized, flowers on the table, groceries in the fridge) in our absence. It felt like a swanky hotel.

I have never missed home more than I did for the past two weeks, so I've been so grateful just to be here.

This morning Michael killed a huge wolf spider and left it on the bathroom sink just to show me that he "rescued" me. It was huge. So huge that I decided not to put my contacts in until after he picked up the carcass.

Our day started at around 4 a.m. this morning. It's now 9 p.m., and M & M have been fast asleep since 7:45. I'm trying to kick my body back into Minnesota time, so that's why I'm writing this on our first day back.

Today went really well.

We're trying to focus on slowly acclimating Million to our house and ways of life, with one new thing to learn every few days. (Of course, tomorrow's doctor appointment for an international adoptee evaluation will blow that nice little system out of the water...) In any case, today's "job" was learning to like BonAmi. I thought it would be much harder than it was, considering when BonAmi first came home from the boarding kennel last night, Million was terrified and would tense his whole body and cry. This morning, Million woke up and wanted to start patting and kissing BonAmi before the lights were even turned on (and before BonAmi was awake.)

(On a side note, I fear that BonAmi's name may have permanently morphed into "BonAmi the dog." When Michael made Million's board book with pictures of home and family, that's how he labeled the pictures, and we read through that book so many times with the narration of "That's BonAmi the dog. Woof woof woof woof woof! Pat him nicely." at least 200 times while we were in Ethiopia and about 50 more while flying back to the States.)

What I need right now is a good cup of tea, but I might have to wait for the morning for that.

I've got more to say...but I'm falling asleep very quickly.

I'll close with this picture.

I don't deserve them.