A New Chapter...

Thanks to all who continue to visit this site even now that Lucy is home and settled. John and I decided to open a "new chapter" in our family history and switch to a different blog site, so you can come visit us over there. The more recent posts and updates on Molly's adventure in becoming a Graham can be found at

six-in-2006.blogspot.com

We have so enjoyed "catching up" with old friends through the blog, and it has been an amazing experience for me to document my thoughts and feelings on all this mothering in "real time". I hope you'll continue to indulge my ego and visit the other site sometimes.

Oh, and by the way, for Christmas I was PUBLISHED. John surprised me immensely by having this blog published, photos and all. Copies can be purchased from the web publisher he used. If you have interest you can email me privately. It isn't much for anyone else, but it means the world to me to have the adventure to Lucy in hard copy, with photos and such. I realized the day I read every page that I'd left out so much. Like the worst night of my life, spent alone with Lucy in Hanoi. I also haven't given all the very special and sweet details of the day we went to the Salt lake Temple with Lucy. It was a dear and touching experience, one I want to have documented along with all the rest of this life I'm now living. Maybe those stories will make it into the other blog, we'll see.

so, come see us over there. Thanks for stopping in here so frequently, it means the world to know I have friends like you. 

A Very Happy Day!

We received an unexpected and very welcome Christmas gift on December 20th this year. At around 11 a.m. our adoption counselor called informing us that Molly's birthmom had signed paperwork for Molly to be "officially" placed with us as her adoptive parents. In the blink of an eye John and I were sitting in the adoption agency office, listening to the paperwork we would sign to accept Molly as our adoptive daughter. (What a blessing our dear friend and trusted right hand gal Jenna Johnson was visiting our family from Boise so I could leave the little kiddos for this important and life altering experience!)

As I listened to our case worker read the legal jargon that would bind us to Molly for good I felt so many emotions go through me all at once. Having not expected to officially sign papers until after the new year I was thrilled for the early Christmas gift; what an appropriate time of year to recieve a child into your life. It was on December 5, 2004 that Molly first came into our home, and now 2 years and 15 days later she can become a permanent Graham. Just as I felt this joy the feeling of sadness for Molly's birthmom-who I love-was just as great. How difficult it must have been for her to sign her name, placing her daughter in the permanent care of another mother. I wondered how she was doing, who was there to support and strengthen her, and how she would ever know what a gift she has given us in making Molly a Graham.

We will be carefully watched over during the next 6 months by our adoption counselor, as paperwork for adoption isn't "finalized" until 6 months after placement. It is then-in mid June-that we will appear before a judge and see that Molly Elizabeth Graham will forever belong to us. In the meantime we live our lives as usual. Nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary. Just time to wait and be thankful for the day when all of the Grahams are official. No longer a borrowed baby, Molly will become a forever Graham-#5-the unsinkable little Molly that has belonged here from her beginnings with us two christmas times ago.

This unexpected gift, the gift of a child to loving parents, is such a tender reminder of the goodness of God. It is such a deep and abiding lesson at this Christmas season, when we remember the gift of a tiny baby whose mission it was to glorify and do the will of God, His true and divine Father. How thankful we are for the gift of our Molly. How thankful we are for the Gift of God's son, given so long ago, which we celebrate throughout this Christmas season. 

Holiday Happenings

We've had the usual bustle around our house with all the holiday happenings that occure come December. Everything from our Swedish Lucia celebration to multiple school performances, dance recitals and choir concerts, not to mention an informal piano recital thrown in with it all. It makes for busy evenings and lots of nights where the "quickest dinner possible" is what's on the menu, just so we can make it from one obligation to the next. But in the busy-ness of it all just look at the faces in these pictures. Pure Joy. Absolute satisfaction in my children's expressions. And if you could see the face behind the camera you'd see the absolute pride and amazement that this parent gets to run around after these (and 3 other wonderful) kids. Merry Christmas! 

If you can't beat 'em...

I borrowed John's reindeer nose, bestowed upon him at Porter's pre-school Christmas program, to usher in a little holiday mood. I guess If you can't beat the crowds, the rush and the bustle of the season, why not join in! I do love Christmas, and this year more than most I've found myself very willing to let go of the "non essential" stresses of the season and just enjoy it a little more. I can't do all I'd like-I always want to do everything-so I'm trying hard to enjoy what I can do and relax and let go...guess it's working a little since I'm posting a pic of me with a giant red circle on my nose! Holiday parties and programs? shopping and baking? Decorating and Christmas carding? I say Bring it ON. 

Dark days of December!

It always seems that December, even with Christmas cheer, brings with it the darkness of winter. In our family we celebrate the Swedish Lucia Day, which is celebrated on the Darkest day of the the year (in Sweden). We wake early and deliver swedish cinnamon rolls to dad as he "sleeps" in bed. The kids dress in the traditional clothing of the day and we hum the Lucia song as we walk through this most wonderful tradition from our life in Stockholm. It is a day of light in a dark month.

Then, after the kids have dressed all in white, we rush around getting them ready to go to school on time. This getting up in the morning thing has become a total snag in our family life. My kids drag out of bed, sometimes taking 20 minutes from first awakening to actual contact with their bedroom floor (sometimes this is full body contact, as they try to find a warm spot on the carpet to continue their night's hibernation!). It is all mom can do to bark and snap them to order, rushing after them with babies in tow as they supposedly practice piano, make their lunches, dress themselves, and leave their rooms somewhat orderly. I say supposedley because it has been sometime since we've accomplished these tasks before the hurried yell to morning prayer just before they run out the back door and attempt to make it to their classrooms before they are considered tardy.

Well, this morning I kinda lost it. I began the usual wake up ritual at 7 a.m.-giving the kids a full 90 minutes to complete their morning "duties" and head off to school. Of course, as usual they didn't get their stuff done, but this was after much effort on my part to "encourage" them. That was it, I just couldn't handle it any more-as we gathered in our "mud hall" to put on their shoes and coats and say a family prayer I just layed it on the line. "No more extras unless you guys can get up and get to work in the mornings! It is so frustrating that you leave for school with me in a dither every day! I feel like getting a job and leaving you with a babysitter to bark at you instead of me! I didn't chose to stay home to mother you just to bark and holler all the time! I want you to think about it and let me know what you want! Do you want me to be home, and are you willing to do your part so I can be home without having to raise my voice in order for you to do the things we expect of you? You think about it and tell me after school what you think, 'cause I'm done being a nag at you all the time!" Then I asked Porter to pray for us all. He did; "Heavenly Father. We thank thee for our house and our mom. Thank thee the kids go to school. Thank thee for the mitten tree (a service project I've "co-chaired" with another mom at the school). Help us be happy. Name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

Then they went to school. Bryn was in tears, I"m sure at the prospect of my leaving for a career and sending a sitter to make her practice piano. Mason accidentally clocked Madison with his back pack and she left in tears too. Porter sat on the floor with a little whimper.

Not a successful morning. Definately a dark December Day.

Now, mind you-I'm not a screamer. I mean, I have a loud voice in the first place and I have certainly raised it with my kids. But generally I don't want to have yelling matches with them-and I don't think John and I have actually yelled at each other but once or twice (this doesn't mean we haven't argued, we just don't argue by screaming...) But the thing is, I don't want to become a screamer. I don't want this to happen in my life. And it is starting to happen-so what do I do? How do I motivate my kiddos through these December mornings in order to have order in this big ol' family? Any ideas would be gladly taken, especially if you've been her and done this with a larger family! I don't want to become a mom in December that is dark herself, because I think that mom would have a hard time shaking off the December darkness come April if she has those habits through out the winter . I don't want yelling to be the first thing I list on my resume!

So, Darkness in December-what to do, how to make it through. All questions I'm musing in these when the sun hides his head and goes to bed early.

Halloween Humbug

Aren't they looking adorable? This was taken at the beginning of the Halloween mayhem, on Thursday October 26th as we headed out the door to a neighborhood Halloween Party. It is a darn good thing you can't see me behind the camera; as I have just finished yelling at my kids to stand still and smile. I am stressed out of my gourd, having spent weeks prior to this night preparing for the onslought of dressup chaos that will be continually my life for 5 days following this photo shoot. Truly, I'm portraying one of Halloween's ever present characters; the ugly wicked witch...

I am a total scrooge when it comes to Halloween. While I adore my children, and of course want them to have a lovely memorable childhood, I am not sure I will make it many more years before I beg them to let me take them to a movie on Halloween just so we can avoid the whole "spend $100 to dress up and beg for candy from neighbors and then whine and cry when we can't eat all the candy we begged off the neighbors" thing. I remember my mom doing just that, begging us one snowy (yes, in Utah it used to snow before December) Halloween night to please let her take us out for a hamburger and a movie just so she didn't have to tromp us through the weather in those costumes she had probably spent hours and hours compiling. I vowed then I would always dress up for my kids and have so much fun "celebrating the season"of spooks and gouls, but truth be told I am absolutely my mother's daughter on this one.

Oh, I've tried to find fun in the day. The kids love to dress up, Bryn this year completely planned and budgeted for her own "green pirate" costume. I try to decorate with fun things around the house and even let the kids go crazy with that fake spider web batting out in the yard (it made us look like a trash house, but they had made a good effort.) I've tried to cut expenses in my idea to recycle costumes; we've made the effort to hand them down from one child to the next (come on Porter, don't you want to be a fairy princess? O.k., how about a lion whose tail was lost years ago when moving from one state to the next? and so it goes). I definately recycle the candy. This year my 3 youngest were asked to trick or treat at the local rest home for the clients who live there. Those sweet folks loaded my kids down with buckets full of candy (this was actually a very enjoyable experience watching them oogle and awe over my darling toddlers). But before the evening had even begun Porter and Molly were chalk full of candy. Needless to say the neighbor kids got handfulls out of the rest home loot. And still my kids came home with loads-so many treats and so close to bed time...the neighborhood easter egg hunt in the spring will take care of the rest until next halloween:)

I will say the most redeeming quality of Halloween is that the neighbors come out and associate with one another. We say hello and catch up as our kids stick their hands in the booty and load down their treat bags. We wave to the guy across the street and holler hellos as trick or treaters doorbell us all at once. It brings a neighborhood out for just one night. This is the one and just about the only part of Halloween that I truly, sincerely enjoy.

so, I guess next year we'll do it again. The costumes, the expense, the time and the treats. Only maybe by next year I'll actually make good on my child hood pledge and dress up. No, probably not. Happy Halloween, I guess, until next year... 

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.

A Little More Complicated...

My life has become just a bit more complicated this weekend. Our Brynley, shown here, auditioned for a part in Ballet West's production of "The Nutcracker." She was excited to participate in this process with two of her good friends here in Salt Lake, and I felt it would be a good experience for her to see what it was like to perform in front of judges. I seriously reconsidered the attempt this week when Brynley called me from school in tears begging to come home and be "just with me, like when she was a little girl." We've been so fragmented as a family over the last couple of months, and we are still feeling our way through a new school year's routine and life with a new baby to boot. Would it be good for her to be rejected when her feelings were so tender and exposed? Would being turned away at such a young age prevent Bryn from seeing her absolutely true talent for ballet (this little girl was born pointing her toes. We know she is not happy when she stops dancing...). Perhaps not this year, but she wanted so much to try out-and I've never wanted to discourage my children from placing themselves in a position to become stronger. "What could it really hurt?" I thought, try out she would.

Well, she made it. Now, many many moms would have put an "!" after that last statement, and I am completely happy that Brynley's experience was so desperately positive. But, you see, Bryn is one of 6 small children, and all of them seem to have places to go and things to do. This new experience, along with all it's requirements (the parent's handbook for this production is long and intimidating; clearly if Brynley is late for any rehearsal or performance, according to this manuscript, I am an unsuccessful and unsupportive parent not to mention a sabature of a 50year old tradition of world class ballet). Brynley's rehearsals will be about 25 miles away from our house, and will begin in the middle of rush hour (and in the middle of soccer practice for two of my three soccer players...). They will last one hour-not long enough to come home and put dinner on and then return to her, and there is no gaurantee she will be cast with her friend who also was selected, so I may or may not have a carpool to help me. It is a bit daunting to think of right now, and ever so much more complicated. Add to this the performances which consume the entire month of December and last about 2 hours at a very late time of night (I think she reports to her dressing room at like 8:30 p.m., and won't be ready to come home until after 9:30...so much for bedtime).

I could call the ballet company and decline, I could tell them thanks but no thanks. I could go to Bryn and just lay it all out; this year is just not the year for us to have such time constraints and requirements put upon our family with a new baby and so much going on in our family. And I could just as easily devour one of the live snakes or monkeys I saw in bamboo cages in the open market of Hanoi. I committed myself when I let her sign up for the audition, and now I live with the consequences.

I heard a religious leader this weekend talk about the load that is placed upon us which helps us, through its weight and difficulty, to move forward toward eternal destinations with our families at our side. This load is so often something we want dismissed, taken off our backs, made light or removed entirely. But it is in carrying the load that we grow strong, that we become humble, that we reach up for help and in the reaching become more able to follow a loving Savior as he helps to bare us up as we go along our way. The nutcracker, the soccer, the preschool, it is all a little part of this load. It isn't perhaps a necessary part-maybe I loaded that one on myself unnecessarily when I agreed to let Brynley try out-but now it is a part of Bryn, so it is a part of the load that yields the power to move me closer to the eternal soul I so desire to become. A soul that lives close to a loving Saviour, who has learned to give herself in the service of others; even if that service is to a little nutcracker dancer as she hurries off to perform.

So, life is a bit more complicated, my load a bit more percarious. But, hopefully, it will be something that when it is done will prove a complication not too difficult to manage, and an experience that will bring my little ballerina to know that her family adores and supports her, and a tired mom the chance to rely on heavenly powers in small things like making rehearsals on time, adding to "the magic of the ballet west production" (that is straight out of the parent handbook) and moving forward to heavenly places with my family by my side.