With Humble Heart

It is with humble heart that I post this little thought. yesterday, october 21 2006 was a sweet day in the life of our family. It is almost too sweet to publically post, but I feel so blessed and thankful that I want to share this news.

As part of our religious beliefs, we hold to the concept that families can be together forever. That our relationships can and will last through out all eternity when bound by the same power Christ gave to Peter when he said "that which ye shall lose on earth shall be loosed in Heaven. And that which ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in Heaven." We believe that same power can bind family relationships beyond this life, and that it has been restored to the Earth. As such, we participated in a sweet ceremony in the Salt Lake Temple which sealed Lucy as a member of our family for eternity. This was a dear and sweet experience, and one I hold with reverence and awe. While some who read about our lives here may not hold to the same beliefs, I hope you will enjoy with us the sweetness of the sentiment, and know that we hold this as a sacred truth which can be enjoyed by all.

This day was made doubley sweet as we were given some surprising news. Before our time in the temple had come we recieved a phone call from Molly's mom. She has for some time been considering Molly's best interest, and had made the concern a matter of prayer and contemplation. It had come to her from Heaven that Molly should remain in our home and even become a permanent part of our family. This news came as a surprise, a tender mercy from Heaven on this day when I had felt such a longing that Molly be a forever member of our family.

A sadness comes in the fact that we love my cousin so deeply, and we know this choice brings an element of sadness to her life as she contemplates her place as a mother and this gift of her child to be raised and loved by another family. It is with awe that I heard her say the words, "I know this is what God wants, and so this is what I am going to do". My respect for Elizabeth (my cousin) has grown tremendously over the last year as I have witnessed her continued progress as a mother and a member of society. She has matured spiritually, socially and in every other way. She faces challenges that would drown me, and she handles them and overcomes odds that would cause the rest of us to "duck and cover". This, the giving of a child to another family, is to me the supernal christian act. To place her daughter's needs ahead of her own desires is in every sense a Christlike thing to do. We feel humbled and joyful to recieve Molly and make her an official Graham. Of course, she has been a daughter in every sense from the moment she arrived in our lives and hearts. I Thank, most humbly, my cousin for her trust and inspiration. I thank a loving Heavenly Father for sweet blessings on a heavenly day in my life.  

Madi's determination
Madison here unveils her new smile! This week Madison lost two teeth. I say 'lost' in the traditional sense, but really Madison cojolled, coerced, and downright forced the ejection of her two front teeth over the course of one week's time. I've never met a first grader with this much determination. Once the first tooth was slightly loose Madi's work began. Tugging, twisting, wiggling and apple biting were all a part of the day long struggle between girl and gum. Finally, just before a visit to her cousin's house, Madi triumphantly revealed the space in her smile and the tooth in her hand. "Now my smile will match Gracie's!" (Gracie is her other cousin, whose tooth had come out some time before...). The second loss of tooth was much like the first, only it took place while we were vacationing in Boise-a visit to reveal Lucy in person to dear friends who had been such a support through our adoption (Hi Hobble Creek gals and Hi to Demond's and Grandparents Read!). Madison's new smile brings her great satisfaction. She lunges her tongue through the space with glee and tries out a new speech element now and then, letting her "sss" sound like "thhhh" as she forces the air through the vacancy in her mouth. Madison is one satisfied little girl. I'm happy for her bravery, her pain tolerance, and her sheer pleasure in sharing her new "look".

However, the losing of my children's teeth has always been, oddly, a source of sadness for me. With the changing of the smile comes the realization that these little lives I interact with so intimately are maturing and growing. Their bodies are getting bigger against my will (even as eager as I am for their helping hands in doing dishes, changing diapers and folding laundry...). Someday the vacancy in Madi's smile will be occupied by "grown up teeth", and Madi will be that much closer to becoming a grown up too. It saddens me when they lose that little child smile, and I know I can never bring it back. I wonder if I took enough pictures of their little-ness, did I capture the wonder of their smallness in my mind for recall during their adolescense and at other painful times in my future as their mom? Probably not. I've never been very good at the "enjoying the moment" kind of stuff; always moving along so fast getting life in order that life passes me by a bit. Then a baby loses a tooth and I realize she's not my baby any more. Sad really, so sad.

So, it is with bittersweet emotions of a mother watching her child become not so childish that I share Madi's smile with you. And, too, with the coming of her new smile I've witnessed the coming of age of a lovely little first grader; full of energy, smarts, creativity and beauty. Congratulations to Madison. So happy to see you smile :)
 

Rolling Along

It has been too long since I posted thoughts on life as a mom of many. Needless to say, the days are busy and - you know- yada yada yada. It was a funny realization today as I was driving down the road to remember that come this Saturday I will have been home from Vietnam for as many weeks as I was in Vietnam. Time flies when your running around like a chicken with her head cut off...

That means that Lucy has been part of my every day life for nearly 10 weeks; wow. The wonder of her arrival has not yet worn off, and at the same time it feels so completely natural and normal that she lives here, with us, and is part of our family. It feels like the plane landed yesterday, and at the same time it feels like Vietnam was a very long and almost forgotten dream.

The effects of change in our family is settling in. We are tripping over teething rings and moving baby swings from one room to another. The diaper bag is again my very stylish purse-type accessory (I really want a new one, a really cool one I saw at a very expensive baby boutique. New diaper bags indicate a hip-ness about mothering that I just can't resist. I have such restraint to obstain!) I am constantly tossing dirty diapers out onto the front porch, and my triathlon training is so yesterday (my abs and core were never impressive, but can you say "jelly roll"? because I now have one of those surrounding my waist at all times! Yikes!).

Our kids are feeling it too. They've all expressed it in different ways, and I feel fractious in trying to hug and help one or another of them every second of the day. I swore when I came home from Vietnam I would continue posting little observations about the amazingly blessed life I'm leading, but when the minutes tick by like seconds and hours pass so quickly in the day I find there just isn't time...

this isn't a post of complaint. I feel actually deeply happy for our current circumstance. And very very "carried" by a loving God who has helped me with little things like a carpool for our nutcracker ballerina and a kind word to say in a moment when I thought I might shout a profanity instead. Just last night John came home from work very unexpectedley just after a typhoon of activity and a frenzy of family chaos. His arrival was a saving grace, and as he came in and kissed me on the cheek he released me from a tense moment, sending me out for a few minutes of fresh air (I hit a neighborhood gift boutique, you gotta see the stuff I found; Awesome). Those tiny little things are happening with frequency and in them I find the loving hand of one who knows just how and when to help.

I heard a story a little while ago from a church leader I love and admire. He spoke of a single mom, keeping her family going and feeling so alone in the everyday mania that is raising a family (mom, gotta get a posterboard for a project due tomorrow, Mom, help me with this math, mom gotta bring treats to school, mom where is the soccer uniform...). This worn out and worthy parent left the house to borrow something from a neighbor. As she turned towards home, she saw in the late evening darkness the house full of chaos that awaited her return. Lights on and kids moving about, she was out of energy and deflated. As she slowly made her way she prayed (I'm paraphrasing here), "Oh Heavenly Father, I just can't do it tonight. My energy is gone. Couldn't I come home to you-just for tonight? I promise I'll come back in the morning..." In her heart and mind there was a loving impression. "No, my sweet daughter. You cannot come to me yet, for you would not wish to ever leave. But, I can come to you."

So, that is how we are rolling along, limping at times but knowing full well we wouldn't be moving at all without the help of one who is loving and mindful of us all.