To My Son On His 2nd Birthday

To my son on his 2nd birthday:

Each and every day, you bring a new delight to me.
Whether it's sneaking up on you and finding you reading books or hearing you call our garden "the secret garden," you bring joy to my heart.
Hearing you say "I love you sweetie peetie" to your daddy on the phone makes us both laugh.
God knew what He was doing when He placed you with us.
You, a sanguine and perfectly contented child with a melancholic mother whose eyes are more often turned to the future than the present.
You're teaching me to focus on the little moments, the new achievements each day, and to be grateful for the seconds we're given.
We are already seeing glimpses of what you'll be like when you're older.
We're praying for you as you learn and grow and achieve and build.
We're praying that your capabilities will exceed your imagination and that you will learn to dream big.
We're also praying that you fail in small ways so that you don't have to fail in great ways later on.
We're praying that you learn to own up to mistakes, to admit to failure.
We're praying that you can learn moral and ethical and general life principles now while you're young so that you have a strong understanding of them later to build your logic and your wisdom upon.
We're praying that you will continue to be the man of prayer, concerned for your fellow man, that you are now.
We're praying that you continue your love affair with both literature and music, for they open pathways into magical imaginary worlds.
We're also praying for your perception of us, that we model a healthy marriage, a love for Christ, and generous and principled lives.
We're praying that you will seek out healthy relationships with Godly older men who can be safe role models for you.
We're praying for your Ethiopia family.
We're praying that you will grow to be a man with your identity firmly fixed in what you know yourself to be and in what Christ says you are----and not tempered by what your fellow humans claim you to be.
We love you little man and can't wait to grow with you.

Mama and Daddy

Adoption Coercion in Opera

This weekend, Michael took me to a performance of Madame Butterfly, as part of a celebration of my birthday this month.

I bawled my way through "Tu Tu piccolo iddio."  The stranger next to me must have thought I was crazy, because I couldn't reach my handkerchief in my purse, so I was using my sweater.

Michael and I both talked about it later , that while we were watching, we were thinking of the millions of birth moms around the world who make difficult choices, sometimes of their own accord and sometimes with coercion.

To set the scene, Butterfly is a geisha in Japan who marries under Japanese laws an American sailor. The sailor has no intentions of making an honest marriage with Butterfly and rejoices in the ease of dissolution of marriage in Japan.  She, however, is convinced that it will be a permanent marriage, and she renounces her religion, her culture, and her family.  He leaves her with a promise of a return "when the robins are nesting."  She hopes for three years for his return, and she had his son after the sailor left.  He was unaware he had a son. 

After three years, she receives communication from the American consulate that her husband does not plan to return to her.  She shows the consulate the child, and the consulate writes to the sailor.  The sailor comes back to Japan, but he is too weak of a man to face Butterfly himself.  His American wife ends up telling Butterfly the news, and she also offers to adopt the little boy.  The offer to Butterfly is that she can return to being a geisha or that she can marry a wealthy man in Japan.  She feels that it would be better to die than to live in shame, so she consents to the adoption, saying she would only comply if the sailor came to receive the child himself.

This is the part where "Tu Tu piccolo iddio" is sung.

She places her son facing the door that the sailor will come in and gives him an American flag to play with.  She then moves to another corner of the room and kills herself in the typical fashion of Japanese honor killings.  The sailor and consulate come into the room just as she falls to the floor and the little boy reaches out to her.  And that's the end.

Now you think I'm crazy for bawling?

Of course, it was beautifully performed, and I was so happy to have a chance to have an adult date with Michael, but we agreed it was probably not an opera we'll have Million watch until he is old enough to delineate between fictional Americans adopting and real Americans adopting.

Whew. 

I think I'll throw some pictures of my happy boys in this post, just to even it out a little.

(Fill-in-the-blank) Health Day

I used to work for doctors who were given permission to take "mental health days."  
I need a mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical health day today, so I'm excusing myself from all social activities (other than mothering and being a wife and homemaker, of course.)


I needed to snatch a break between two busy weekends (and actually several months of busy weekends ahead) to just be still.


Verses I've been pondering this morning, all rather sobering when one ponders the state of their heart in light of the Latin "Soli Deo Gloria" (Glory to God Alone).  


John 12:43 "for they loved the approval of men rather than the approval of God."

Psalm 62:1-2 "My soul waits in silence for God only; From Him is my salvation.  He only is my rock and my salvation, My stronghold; I shall not be greatly shaken."

1 Corinthians 10:31 "Whether, then, you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God."

A Peter Rabbit Birthday Party

We successfully made it through Million's 2nd birthday party (despite the fact that his birthday is later on this month.)  He also was dedicated at our church this weekend, so it was a busy two days.  Michael made the cupcake decorations (idea found on pinterest) and the blue jacket and boots (also found on pinterest.)

We had so much fun, and Million did too!

We'll see how the decompression from all of the excitement goes this week...

Kitchen Sneak Peak

With my mom's help, our kitchen has been repainted. (Soon it will be re-floored.)

This is the lightest, most neutral paint color I have ever chosen.

I did choose it when we were more seriously considering moving within the next six months.

However, I think we'll be staying here for at least two more years, for various reasons.

What's working for us?

Claudia has challenged her readers to write about things that are "working" for them.
It's tempting to just blog about problems (or not blog at all....woops!), but this intentional focus on positives is a good challenge.

There are a few things working for us right now---not many that are really blog-worthy.
Hard-boiled eggs for lunch and a lot of meals with beans (to get the toddler to eat some/any protein or iron) isn't exactly my idea of an intellectually stimulating blog post.
Whom am I kidding?
Are my blog posts ever intellectually stimulating?

Allowing Michael and Million to dance 43x in a row to Supercalifragilisticexpialadocius on youtube works well to give me a little alone time.  How else do you think I've gotten this far in writing out this post?

Here's something new from this week.  It's working so far.

This was the first night Million played with "game," as he calls it.
He has gotten much quicker about matching pairs and declaring different shape names in the three days we've played with this game.
My hope is to eventually move to a more "Memory" type of game, but this is working for now.


This recipe from Smitten Kitchen is really working for me.  In not-so-healthful ways, unless you can count the copious amount of mustard I eat with them.  Mustard is healthy, right?

I was thinking today that in general, most recipes from Smitten Kitchen work for me.  If it were a war between Smitten Kitchen and Pioneer Woman, 97% of the time, Smitten Kitchen would win, in my book.  I just don't stock up enough butter in my fridge to firmly declare that Pioneer Woman works for me.  He he.

Going to the playground a lot works for us.   The days that are too cold to go outside are miserable days, to put it mildly.  He usually ends up going to bed earlier and waking up much earlier the next day, (which does not, I must say a little more emphatically---NOT---work for me.)

Allowing him to play on the "big kid" equipment without showing too much mommy fear (he could fall off any number of ledges!) is also working.

If you're wondering what Million was saying,(as I was while he was saying it), he was saying "Lippity lippity Peter Fast" from The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter.  He'd never said it before then, so I was a little confused.  

Dirty Buses

Today, I was singing one of Million's favorite songs "The Wheels On The Bus."
He interrupted my song to ask if the bus was "dirty." (One of our words for a soiled diaper.)

I couldn't figure it out.
Until he said "bus, dirty----wipe wipe!"

Who Are You, Really?

This was going to be one of those lovey dovey swallow a kool-aid packet dry, just because you like the flavor and because it dyes your tongue a cool color kinds of posts.
I was going to write about what a great man Michael is.

Then I remembered two things:
1. He doesn't even read this blog.
2. It might be more effectual to tell him in person. (Duh!)

Then I got to thinking about online identity formation and what we choose to portray to the world in which words and photos precisely.  Online identiy is sneaky.  You can look like a good wife on your husband's facebook wall but still nag him about picking up his socks. (For the record, not one of Michael's faults.)  You can rave about coupons and how much money you save but still be putting that money "saved" into unwise decisions that you just don't tell anyone about.  You can look extra-spiritual by using words like "grace and thanks" and being a mini-Ann Voskamp (when I'm sure she would rather you were a mini-Christ), but you can still be judgmental and critical and ungrateful in your private life.  You can make yourself into a Martha Stewart or a child psychologist or a kindergarten-teacher-cute mom---when you're really just like the rest of us: trying, failing often, and sometimes succeeding.

This is the opposite of integrity.
I'm not saying it would be entirely wise to air out all of your dirty laundry on facebook or on your blog.
(It might be healthy to do it privately.)
However, it might be a good choice to evaluate who you're portraying and who you really are.

I'm going to start by praising my husband to his face more than I do online.

Lumberjacks and Mr. Jackson

I haven't posted a video on our blog lately.
I have several that showcase Million's vocabulary far more than this one, but he's all boy in this one, and it makes me smile.
This blog isn't supposed to be a brag blog anyway.

And after this morning's grocery shopping episode, I'm not sure I can rightfully brag.

I was THAT mom this morning.
The one with the toddler shredding the cereal boxes we hadn't even purchased yet.
The one with the toddler announcing to all passerbyers (very proudly, I might add) that he was going to be the recipient of some discipline when we got back to the car.

In more positive news, we'll be celebrating Million's birthday this month---a little early--but he won't notice.  He's having a Peter Rabbit birthday party, as he's in love with all things Beatrix Potter right now---especially (and disturbingly) Mr. Jackson.  He goes around saying "Tiddly widdly widdly, Mrs. Tittlemouse."