Because Modeling Good Behavior is Key

I jotted this down while the can was still open after touch up painting the brown walls.

See?

Mom Loves Dad = Good Example

A Resounding Success

In spite of the challenge and the difficulty and the stretching that brings me to my knees in surrender, when I am unsure of the next step to take, questioning if I have what is required to do what must be done, I would have to say this story is one of resounding success. I don't know, maybe it's because of all of that.

The days are full and unpredictable.

They are full of wonder and drama and happiness and laughter and goofiness and sorrow and dancing and grief and the mundane and the extraordinary.

We are engaging.

We are changing.

We are growing.

We are humbled.

We are brought low, then picked up again.

Together.

Forgiveness is needed.

Forgiveness flows.

There is the sweetest taste to victory and unity that is hard earned.

Big and small triumphs come each day.

Even on the most difficult.

Families are sacred.

God is near.

We count on His mercies like never before.

Healing is present.

Funny thing is, I don't think they were the ones that needed it most.

****************************************

Taking some time away from the blog now.

Celebrating the resurrection of our Lord and Savior.

Practically Twins

MM

Going surprisingly well. Go figure. Just when I've nearly convinced myself the Deutsch crew (Tisha Deutsch included!) has to be about the rowdiest, most raucous, naughtiest group of individuals assembled together under one roof, we go and have ourselves a right fine time, free of (major) incident enjoying one another's company all morning long.

That's quite an accomplishment for a brood this size and age.

Oh wait a sec, I hear a fight breaking out between mohawked boys. Let the afternoon begin ☺

Her Mother

I keep thinking about her. The one who was unable to raise her baby girl, Masso. What would she want me to do? How would she want me to respond, reassure, nurture, comfort, correct, guide?

I pretty much feel like a terrible, second string, sub par, ill-equipped, under-qualified replacement.

The teaching opportunities will come in time, with more extensive, interactive, verbal communication. I'm hopeful the ability to have an actual conversation one day will help. It has to.

We girls do like to talk.

Not feeling great about that last post.

Not sure how to handle this.

Trying not to lose my joy, to grow weary in well doing.

Desiring to be a good example, to bring glory to God.

Feeling like I'm failing at that too.

There is a blizzard here today. The man of the house is out working in it.

The kids and I are going to try a movie marathon.

They are full of energy this morning so we'll see how it goes....

The Expression

Still present. Still frequent. Often follows repetitive wailing sounds. Some days all day long the cycle repeats. Others only a few. Over a wide array of subjects. Often, they would be completely minor, remarkably insignificant offenses for even the most sensitive children I've known. The language makes it difficult to understand, although I'm not sure it would help if we could communicate. This may or may not change with time. It is tiresome. It affects the mood in the house, mainly because it affects my disposition and I set the tone. It is disruptive to the flow. During her happy moments, when she wants my attention, hanging on my arm, pulling on my shirt, hamming it up, "mama, mama, mama, mama" expecting me to laugh at the cute little display she is showing me, I am less likely to want to give it to her because I'm so worn down from this. We step forward, we step back. I have to ask God for the promising flickers of love I have to turn deep and fierce, in spite of the irritation I feel....real.

This morning

I was awake and alone, sitting on the floor.

I had my coffee and my Bible and my budget and calculator.

It was quiet.

One by one, the kids began to file out.

Rubbing their eyes, warm from their beds, groggy, sleepy.

Without saying a word,

the first one pulled out pieces of paper and pencils and started to draw.

Each child followed suit as they entered the room.

I was able to continue to read.

I looked up and caught a glimpse of them,

intently working, no sound.

And it was one of those moments.

I can't plan or orchestrate them.

They can not be concocted.

They just happen.

All I can do is be ready to see, breathe it in, offer thanks.

Because in a flash....I blink....and it's gone.

The momentarily, spontaneously, sublime minutes of an ordinary day.

Psalm 143: 8

Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,

for I have put my trust in you.

Show me the way I should go,

for to you I lift up my soul.

Did you?

Read this? It made me shout hallelujah at my computer.

Sometimes it's just not good.

The environment here can be (a little bit) stressful.

Churning, grinding, fraying, continuous, destructive, noisy, negative, unproductive, constant correction requiring, full of conflict and turmoil, loud, endless interruptions, screaming, resistance, bickering and crying and whining and wailing, hitting, the simplest tasks are monumental, scratching, kicking, biting, stomping, stream of offenses, enormous explosion like messes, needy, moody, bossy, battling, can't turn my back because I never know what I will find when I look again or how high the price will be for my moment of stolen peace, bring me to the brink of I don't know exactly what, but it's certainly not favorable, and I have no idea what to do to make things better, stomach-ache inducing, this job simply must be beyond a normal human being's capacity to do well because I, for one, am miserably failing everyone and stumbling around with no apparent effectiveness, which leads me to believe I could surely do something more competently with my time and ability because I think I used to be a person with some sort of skill that was appreciated by someone, stressful.
Then, the clock turns to 7:34 am.

And, I pick myself up and carry on because I have no choice.

It's the stuff that doesn't make it into neatly cropped and visually enhanced photos.

Thrown in are the tender, beautiful moments of extraordinary bliss where I feel there is nothing better than this very instant and my breath catches in my chest as I look at their faces and see the goodness and love and joy and it's as if time is standing still and everything else easily fades away, and I know this is exactly where I was meant to be because there is nothing I will ever experience that is more pure and exquisite in my lifetime on this earth, my heart could burst with happiness because of this....but....those....moments....are.....fleeting.....

Love is messy.

I saw something on a very popular blog that suggested we moms should keep it real and tell our true stories without trying to gloss over the hard parts. Ok. There you have it. Real.
Inspiring, right? Perhaps that's not what she meant.....

Things they don't tell you #497

That attorney fees for re-adoption, formally known as Validating a Foreign Decree, which results in a certificate of foreign birth in the state of Colorado, costs another couple thousand dollars for 2 children. If you are in the international adoption process, you should know this up front! That's why I'm taking it upon myself to kindly inform you of what 'they' may omit. ☻ And no, I'm not really smiling. Only my little computer guy is. I'm frowning with a furrowed brow. Like this :(

I'd love to plan one.

But I'm concerned our summer "vacation" could end up looking a lot like our spring "break." Ba-dum-bum. Ha. Oh dear. How is Flint? Um, yes. Flint. It seems I may have neglected to mention the boy as often as I should. Here he is. See? Right under the table. That's where we like to keep him. Look at how happy he is there! He affectionately calls it "home," in Amharic of course.

So, yeah. Kidding! JUST kidding. Do NOT tell our social services worker lady. (She doesn't need to know.)

He's good, good, good. Fine and dandy. Seriously - that child is a happy one. *He just lives under the table that way without a single complaint* I said it before and it holds true. - he still goes with the flow, joyfully. Sure, there are plenty of sibling disputes. (((((Plenty))))) Did I say plenty? Because there are. Plenty. Oh how there are plenty. Whew. Plenty. He is just as likely to be involved as anyone else in the house. But all in all he is such a delight. He's a winner. And a keeper. I love to kiss his full soft cheeks and give him big bear hugs because I've never had a child that plushy before. Our cute little linebacker. That's my boy. Flinty.

I think about all those months praying for Tamene.....wondering if he would be ours. Asking God for His will to be done in this child's life. Not knowing. Hoping for an answer, week after week. Looking at his precious picture. Longing for this boy. Now, he is. Here. Among us. Living life as a Deutsch. Calling me mama. Holding my hand on the couch as we watch American Idol. Flashing that priceless grin. It's surreal to see his smiling face right here, every day, playing with cars and eating oatmeal and mimicking everything I say (even when I'm angry and speaking sternly to one of the children) looking up at me with those eyes. Those eyes. Breathtaking. It is so very sweet. I'm certain I don't deserve reward like this. But I'm glad, grateful he's right here, next to me now as I type, swaying back and forth to David Crowder playing on the computer, whispering something I can barely hear to himself over and over again. Flint. ♥Flint♥ An ever present reminder of God's glorious goodness to one flawed woman's heart.

Spring Wonderland

Today

♥

So it's spring.

Hello? Break? Yoohoo? Where are you?

We went to the park this morning (perfect weather!) with a several other families. I'll admit it - all I wanted those silly kids to do was to leave me alone so I could visit with my friends. uh, yeah. Guess how well that worked out for me. Bathrooms were locked. Bathrooms were needed. Oh, how bathrooms were needed. Yes, indeedy. They surely were.
Next time I go to the park to play I may leave the children at home ☺

Several fights, temper tantrums (no, not mine. And oh no, I'm not saying I'm above them.) and crushed feelings and moments requiring intervention occurred before we could even make it out the door to get in the van to go, you know, get a break. *Wink*

First thing out of the gates this morning shades were broken off the wooden rod entirely, bunched up on the floor in a big wad, poo smeared all over the toilet (did I mention they had an outhouse at the orphanage and with the language barrier appropriate bathroom usage has been a tricky one to teach? Ahem. Yes indeedy. It surely has.) with, as an added touch, shreds of toilet paper nicely decorating the vicinity.

No pictures because I'm not so much in the mood to recall day 1 of 2010's Spring (give me a) Break (already would ya?).

Tomorrow - snow - again, the snow. For fun, we'll go ahead and call it Spring Snow.

Tonight, Tyden and I have a date. He has selected Burger King as the ultimate destinatation for fine dining, where we shall have a whopper of an opportunity to be treated as royalty. He has been talking about it for weeks with great joy and anticipation. Oh, my heart, how it melts. (If the bathrooms are functional) This evening with my prince shall surely be a bright and massive highlight of spring *break* 2010. My gold paper crown awaits.

Mimi

We wanted to take her home with us.

She worked at the Guest House with a beautiful servant's heart.

Birtukan, the owner, said we could adopt her, but I suspect she may be too old :)

When we left, she came down to our room to say goodbye and to tell us she

"loves us very much."

The feeling is completely, completely mutual.

I wish Mimi was here now.

One more family

I just realized they weren't in the other picture. This is the family that we spent the most time with because we stayed in the same Guest House. We ate many a meal together. I loved how wonderfully calm and soft spoken they were. I felt very loud and talkative and excitable around them, so I tried hard to bring my (volume) self down a notch. I don't think it worked.☺

Remembering When

Doesn't seem like we could ever forget the people we were with in Ethiopia.

But just in case my memory doesn't serve me well, I'll put them right here :)

So She Said...

I have a much more pleasing better life now. - Jayla Deutsch, age 8

Speaking about the arrival of her sister Meadow.

Snow day

Yesterday, I was hanging clothes on the line to dry. Today, it's all crazy blizzardy (yes, that's totally a word. Haven't you heard it? No? Maybe you should get out more.)

The wee ones are making peanut-butter play doh sculptures behind me as I type this, then bringing each and every (uh-mazing) new tree, dog, star, cake, pizza.....over to show me. Because it simply didn't exist if mom didn't see it, and respond with a, "wow, that's absolutely, positively, thrilling! I've never, not ever, seen anything quite like it! Bravo, bravo!"

Sometimes the snow gets me down. I am tempted to pull my hairs out, one by one, and shout up to heaven "AGAIN?! We're stuck inside? Again?! How much more of this treacherous captivity can one woman take!?" Then I begin to daydream. I scratch my head and ponder the notion that if I cry just a little bit when I go into the office, but not too much where he thinks I fell off my rocker entirely, there is a slight possibility my Dr. will prescribe medication for the serious medical condition cabin fever. But not today.

This morning I logged onto facebook and found an update from a friend that said she misses snow days with her kids. Humph, I thought to myself. She does? Whenever I see her she looks sane enough to me. Could there be something to this? One day, will I miss them too? I quickly came to the conclusion that yes, why yes by golly, I think I will.

I do believe these are some truly precious moments I've got here, with my sensational seven, right before my eyes. Perhaps I should choose to savor. Not take them for granted. They, too soon, will pass. Thank you Suzan. I've never liked going to the Dr. anyway.....


On repeat today:

Happy crazy bilzzardy Friday.

My Meadow & Me

I wasn't sure how it would go....

It turned out, she desperately wanted a mommy.

She just wasn't sure what to do with one.

It turned out, I desperately wanted another daughter.

I just wasn't sure what to do with one.

We've both learned a lot about each other in our month together.

As it turns out, we've found love sweet love.

My heart rejoices.

Scenes from the Herd

Clover and Meadow, (who should be best friends by the way, uh, Clover and Meadow) making up after an offense ending with a bite and many tears. Ouch. Not good.

Jayla popping popcorn with her helpers. New library books. Yes, I took them all to the library. By myself. Jayla and I got hair cuts too. And we stopped by the bank. LaCasita afterwards for supper where (a few) kids eat free.

Whew! How about that!? She can read! No, not really.

Flint, eating a banana while singing the ABC's and dancing.

And they say males can't multi task.

Stryder filled a small bowl with water to carefully put Clover's hair in it because????

Meadow pulling an orange and fresh banana peel she found out from under the couch to show me just how naughty her new siblings can be.

Tsk, tsk, tsk. I told ya so about the food and the couch.

This girl knows better and is a very tidy lady.

Stryder's "weal gun." I've been shot several times.

Onyx went with his grandparents for a birthday movie and dinner, followed by a sleepover.

So, we partied in the playroom.

Can't let the one who leaves have all the fun.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

For the craftily-impaired mom who did not get the "be a good example and make cute little green things" gene:
1)Read about the history of the holiday and the man for which it is named.
2)Place a picture of a shamrock up as an example.
3)Get out every type of art supplies.
4) Scatter said supplies all over big table.
5) Give futile warning about fighting, screaming, hitting, pinching over those supplies.
6)Tell them to have at it by saying something like this,
"Go on, make one. I don't care how you do it. Use the imagination God gave you people because He skipped mommy when he handed them out."

Offer them Leprechaun licorice.

Because what you were born with is a sweet tooth the size of a pot of gold.

Gimme some Chuck E Cheese please

And then he was 7

Which for a couple months, until Stryder's birthday, makes our kids' ages:

2,3,4,5,6,7, & 8

Cool ☺