This one's for you Mrs. Plunkett

My brown walls are no longer brown. Are you happy now?

Play

{Swing}

{Race}

{Pose}

{Climb}

*

This is the first Easter we have not gone to church, or to another religiously affiliated event.

Ever.

For the past couple of months we have been worshipping together, as a family, at home. And no, that is not code for not going to church and replacing it with nothing. We really do. Worship. Together. As a family. At home.

During the week leading up to the celebration of the resurrection of Christ, we read through the scriptures together, beginning with Palm Sunday - and ending with the Ascension following Jesus' days on earth after his resurrection. We spoke regularly about what was happening in the days prior to the crucifixion - how Jesus may have been feeling, what his disciples might have been going through, what Jesus was doing to prepare himself and them, and what his resurrection would ultimately mean. It was a very sweet, tender time for Bob and I to delve deeply into scripture with our children. They were so eager, responsive, willing to take it in, to think about the events surrounding the time we know as Easter Sunday. They were truly special days.

I have not idea what other people should be doing or what it is that draws them near to Him. All I know is this: For me, there has never been a year that I have felt more connected to what exactly it is we were rejoicing over last Sunday.

There are many factors that played a role in our decision to worship at home during this season rather than attend church services. I have spoken to enough people to know this is a highly controversial subject. I really do understand that this issue is a huge stumbling block to some and there are folks who could not imagine devoted followers of Christ living apart from (at least) weekly church services. I get that. Given a different upbringing or general personality, I could definitely see myself feeling the same way. But, I was given neither that kind of upbringing nor personality, so I have absolutely no problem with worshipping at home.☺

I can not express how much God has used this time for great good in my heart, my mind, my life, and my family. We have been heavily in prayer, in our Bibles, and in praise through music. He has restored broken pieces that I feared were lost forever. Parts of myself that I thought I may never see again, are budding anew. I have found Him here. For that, I offer my thanks, my praise.

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Below are the 4 oldest kids singing and signing In Christ Alone on Easter for the family. (They also recited the entire chapter of Psalm 103, showing off their big, smart brains and hard work since January. My heart! I was so proud of my little whippersnappers.)

I thought the song would be so completely familiar to everyone watching. It wasn't. Apparently, every person has not run out to buy a copy of it immediately following the first moment it fell upon their ears causing immense joy to erupt from deep within. {Shock!} I hold the humble opinion that this tune should be in every Christ follower's repertoire to belt out anytime they need an every day ordinary reminder of the extraordinary price paid on our behalf. I *may* get all kinds of choked up during that one (glorious!) part causing moisture to involuntarily leak from under my eyelids. Even more so now that I know sign language to accompany the words. So, as I dab the corners of my eyes I say, "don't mind me, I must have something in my eye."
It's just a little happiness falling out....

 

 

{Hunt}

Dessert

Bag of caramels and 2/3 cup half and half melted on the stove top until warm and creamy with granny smith apples. (Doubled for our brood.)

Delicious AND nutritious.

Unless you use the apple as a spoon and never take a bite....

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A new little thing that I wrote is posted over at A Word With You Press.
It's really short.
101 words, to be exact.
About Elvis.
Sort of....
Since writing it yesterday, I can not get the song Tainted Love out of my head.
I think that's because I've never actually heard Elvis' Faded Love.
Care to take a look?
I'd love to hear what you think, or see you enter the contest yourself!

Picasa!

She's up and running again. Oh happy day. I ♥ picasa.
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Flint told me today (in his usual extremely quiet, demure, but matter-of-fact-manner) that he doesn't like me. Unsure that I heard him correctly because he speaks very softly especially when he breaks his mother's heart, I asked him to repeat what he said. Probably realizing this wasn't his most favoable admission, in an effort to soften the blow, he then decided to say he likes me "only a little bit." Which I considered a substantial upgrade. ☺

Bobby and I were talking on Sunday and I shared with him that I was sure my lack of therapeutic parenting has caused Meadow and Flint to be afraid of consequence....and quite frankly, afraid of me. Parenting them with the same approach that worked so beautifully in simultaneously developing strong, nurturing bonds and appropriate respect for boundaries with each of our biological children during their early years - has not proven itself the best technique for building healthy attachment with our adopted children.

I have let the busyness of daily life, the stress and demands of raising 7 children within a 6 year span, our full homeschooling schedule, and my own desire to hold them at an arms length - to an extent - as I adapted to my new role of adoptive mom, to keep me from pursuing the greatest good I could offer them as a mother. I spent a huge portion of the last year swimming in a sea of uncertainty, loss, grief, regret, and ambivalence. Trying to get through the days, I put one foot in front of the other, working hard to hold it together, knowing many small hearts and lives were at stake. But I certainly did not give my best. I'm not sure I was in a place that I could. I can see the effects of this now. In Flint. As I'm finally, really coming out of my post adoptive fog, I am sure of one thing. I have much work to do. (So I took him in my arms and kissed his soft cheeks, professing my love  for him and undying devotion, which only made him laugh. It's a start.....)

On the up side, his confession spurred an outpouring of effusive affection from the other kids. And, let's face it, momma can always use a little lift. I would fully this expect from JOTSC, who are protective of their mommy's feelings and are still young and innocent enough to believe she hung the moon. But it was Meadow's response that really got to me, sending a sweet ache to my heart. She hugged me big and told me, unreservedly, that she loves me very much and she doesn't know why Flint would say that. She showed such warmth and compassion.

After all the mistakes I've made this year, with my countless fumbling and foibles as I unsteadily, awkwardly staked new territory in my Motherhood Journey, when she would have every right to stand along side him and say, "I don't like you either" she told me she loved me. And, I believe her. I can not express how humbling that is.

This afternoon, unexpectedly, I saw God's grace in my African daughter's eyes. Rich, benevolent, mercy.
Today was a good day.

Communication Communication Communication

14 months after our adoption took place, it is the single greatest issue that continuously proves to be a significant challenge.

It's really difficult to explain. There are such a number of scenarios in which this plays out during the course of a day or week or month or year. A large portion of communication is non verbal as well, so that element also plays a role in the challenges we face. There are attitudes and actions and facial expressions and words - or a lack thereof, on all of our parts, that couldn't possibly be quantified or expressed in one tidy little succinct blog post package. As I regularly tell my long distance friend while we chat on the phone about the subject "you should come and see what I mean." That may be the only way to really understand.

Suffice it to say, the bottom line is our ability to communicate clearly with one another is strained. Still. This shows itself in a variety of ways. I believe since our kids were older when they were introduced to the English language, it was a very difficult transition for them. But, truthfully, it's not only the ability to articulate and pronounce words (which Meadow does quite well but Flint still struggles with some.) It's also how we communicate with one another that proves difficult. In addition to the customary blank stares and prolonged pauses as they try to search for the answer I may want to hear, (whether their response is true or not seems to matter very little to them, if they are able to come up with an acceptable answer) that are their typical response to being asked direct questions, the expression of thoughts, feelings, and or emotion is also really tough - because it doesn't exist. In other words, neither one of them verbally express thoughts, feelings or emotion. At all. This makes a nice heart to heart conversation impossible. ☺ Even when something occurs that may call for a reasonable discussion. Which in turn, makes it hard for me to feel like I am really getting to know them well, or that we are developing a close relationship. The usual give-and-take piece that vital relationships naturally have is certainly not there.

Another thing is we have seen absolutely no signs of the grieving process we were prepared for and thoroughly expected. None. I don't know if this is typical or not. At first, I thought we escaped that unpleasantry scott free and they were just so overcome with joy to be here they did not miss their caretakers or lives in Ethiopia. Now as I have witnessed other situations that should typically evoke sadness, and do among our birth children, but leave Meadow and Flint completely unscathed, I am beginning to wonder if this lack of grieving is not indicative of another issue all together.

As a woman and a mother, I love to talk to my kids. Getting to know them each on an individual basis, nurturing bonds with them, observing their growth and change in all categories, hearing their "take" is one of my greatest joys on this earth. Even the youngest kids like to talk to their mommy....a lot! I am praying for wisdom and insight that will help me develop that type of close knit relationship with each of my African gifts.

I am not writing this to seek advice or input, (although if you have some I'm definitely all ears. Especially if it doesn't involve costly therapy appointments!) Mostly, I just want to say, that if communication is an obstacle you wrestle with as you forge and foster relationships with your adopted children, you are absolutely not alone.

There may be some discrepancy....

concerning the measure of a true homemaker. Is it making your own laundry detergent or baking bread from scratch? Is it only for mothers of more children than they can count on one hand who speak every gentle word with the utmost kindness? Must I avoid dramatic hair color and permanent ink on my skin to be included?

Well, to heck with what anyone else thinks. I have, on my own, decided that making yogurt in one's crock pot should be the mark by which all homemakers are measured. Whatdoyouknow, coincidentally, that is because I, for the first time, last night, made yogurt! Would you like to join my *highly exclusive, VIP* club? If so, I'll tell you how. (It's actually remarkably easy. All it really takes is time.) But don't tell too many people. Then it won't be nearly so special. ☺

Pour 1/2 gallon of milk in your crock pot.

(I used raw milk - I think you're not supposed to use "ultra" pasteurized.)

Cover and cook on low for 2.5 hrs. 

Unplug your crock pot and let it sit for 3 hrs.

After 3 hrs, scoop out 2 cups of the warm milk and whisk in 1/2 cup of a store bought yogurt.

Dump mixture back into the crock  pot.

Stir.

Put the lid back on and wrap a heavy bath towel around the unplugged crock pot.

Let sit for 8 hrs.

Wala!

Warm, fresh yogurt will be ready and awaiting you.

(The texture will not be as thick and gel-ish as store bought yogurt.)

This morning we added honey, a smidge of brown sugar and bananas.

This afternoon, we mixed with organic sugar and berries.

The kids DEVOURED it.

I was happy because we usually do not buy yogurt other than for smoothies -

(In the fruity sweet kinds that the children like, there is loads of sugar and high fructose corn syrup,

unless you shell out for Stoneybrook Farms or something like that.)

Not to mention fact that I've joined the ranks of Homemakers United.

Bringing healthy dairy products to our families and smug satisfaction to ourselves....

one delicious serving at a time.

☺

**It can be stored in the refrigerator in airtight containers for about a week.

If you don't like it warm you can cool it before you eat it.

I think you can add sugar to the milk in the beginning instead of adding it after the yogurt is made.

I will try that next time. **

Date Night

For a girl and her dad.

After dinner, they took off -

To the store to buy a new baby doll .

(In addition 9 packs of gum because Clover has decided she should gift each person in the family with one.)

Then, to Culvers for frozen custard.

It doesn't get much better than that. ♥

Can I ask you a question?

Last week the kids and I attended a homeschool event held at the YMCA for the first time. Not surprisingly, of all the moms in attendance, I was the one with the highest number of children in tow, in addition to having the most colorful family. ☺ Also none too surprising, was the array of questions I received from other curious mothers about our lives and how I manage.

It's funny, because as I am well aware of The List (you know, the list, right? The incredibly long one that's full of all the ((nosey, silly, inquisitive, laughable, rude, crass, judgmental)) things you're not supposed to ask a mother of a large family, or an adoptive mom, or a homeschooling family.....or any other kind of family that falls outside the range of what we consider "normal.") I am really not offended whatsoever by the questions I receive. I get it. I really do.

As a person with an inquiring mind who has always been interested in large/adoptive/homeschooling families, I have asked plenty of those questions myself. In fact, one time, many years ago, while standing in line at Target, I asked the man ahead of me how many bedrooms were in his house after I learned he had 9 children. Oh yes I did. It was because our family was growing and I was genuinely trying to figure out how people with heaps o kids do it! Will we need a mansion.....? Do you know what he told me in response to my Question From The List? With a smile, he chuckled and said "not enough." Right then and there, under the bright fluorescent lights where the giant red bulls eye reigns supreme, he taught me that they were making do, and happily so, since he had already shared with me he and his wife's love of children and family. I'll never forget it. (Although I may have had he lectured me on the social impropriety of asking such intrusive questions.)

I rarely ever, ever feel an overwhelming desire to "educate" people on how to address me or discuss my children. Even with the barrage of interesting remarks we receive, and trust me, there are some doozies! Usually, I can easily decipher what they are intending to ask, even if they don't have the politically correct phraseology. And truthfully, I'd rather they just come out with it anyway as try to dance around the subject with terms I deem acceptable to my delicate sensibilities.

I don't mind freely acknowledging that yes, my husband and I know what causes it. Or that I am, in fact, NOT my African children's birth mother and that it was never part of Perfect Plan A that they would become mine. I do parent them but we can neither deny nor ignore that they are not my real flesh and blood. Or that they are siblings now but this wasn't the case before we welcomed them into our family.

It's not difficult to grasp why folks would be interested. Lord knows, I've shared many of same curiosities about people I've seen out and about from time to time. (I may have even fallen prone to an occasional urge to stare or quietly, under my breath, count offspring.) I don't blame others for wanting to know how/why/where we do what we do, nor do I fault them for not being aware of the most properly appropriate, most highly suitable words with which to pose an inquiry. Usually, when I am fortunate enough to come across an unusual family, I find myself in the same boat as those who approach me wanting to talk about my life. I'm just a person trying to figure out what makes those beautifully unique, wonderfully busy, extravagant by design families tick. And, perhaps, in the process of asking them a question and receiving an answer, I might learn a thing or two that will deeply  inspire, teach, encourage or change me. Maybe their response will even stay with me forever.....

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p.s. I used a relaxer on my Ethiopian daughter's hair.
Twice. (Which has made our lives loads easier.)
So, no one has ever accurately accused me of being politically correct either.

Oh, For Aching Tailbones!

Not mine of course. I managed to stay upright, (even while dragging little people along side me teaching the kids to skate) as did The Mister. They could have used some tailpads though. At least they are pretty close to the ground to start with. That surely helps. Watching them was hysterical...and painful. I can't imagine being them. Ouch. Despite the rather unfortunate, repetitive occurrence of hard floor meets soft body parts, fun was had by all.

I really did love watching them go for it.

Good times. ♥

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If you happened to offer suggestions for shows we could order up on

Netflix to watch after the young ones have gone to bed, thank you!

I've already placed several of your recommendations on que for the very near future.

I think you have great taste. ☺

Not much of a blogger lately....

I've been awfully busy. Apparently, too busy to blog. Which means, that the onslaught of useless information that has popped into my mind on any given day this week has had no choice but to remain right there, crowding up my brain cells. What have I been so incredibly busy doing, you ask? Very important tasks I tell you! Such as.....

um...huh....hmmm....Give me a minute to think. Dum dum dum dum dum dum dum.....{scratching my head} {looking aimlessly into the sky} {tapping my chin with my pointer finger, while my face is tilted ever-so-slightly to the side with squinting eyes} {making clicking sounds on the roof of my mouth with my tongue} Well, ahem, I suppose my tasks were not exactly all that important.

But, there was the devouring The Hunger Games, which kept me awake all.night.long. worrying about Katniss. Then, immediately following that was the wretched waiting for Catching Fire to come in the mail (Hello Kindle? I need you! Santa, are you listening?) so I could find out just how dastardly and wickedly corrupt The Capitol truly is....which lead to more late nights of course.....

And, my balder half was out of town so I held down the fort solo-style, which is a sizable job of itself, wouldn't you say?

Then, there was the walking walking walking walking I have done outside in this warm(ish) but terribly blustery weather to keep my *bigger* jeans fitting properly. I figure the effort of trying not to blow away is a bonafide workout in and of itself, worthy of being rewarded with plenty of homemade brownies.

We finished up Little Town on the Prairie - our 5th consecutive Little House book this year. And we are now in season 7 of the t.v. shows. I'm *officially* naming this Our Little House Year in our *official* home school. Which is funny, because I love them so much that once we finish, we will start over at the beginning making next year Our Little House Year as well. (Oh, just kidding. Sadly, I am only joking. I know, they must be taught something else. We'll alternate Little House years....☺)

Stryder, Flint and I went on a date to Walmart to spend their allowance money, which was super interesting for me considering they have absolutely zero concept of what their dollars ($14 for Stryder $21 for Flint) can purchase, leading them to believe they could/should have the opportunity to select any/every thing their hearts' desired from the aisles. We made it out with one toy a each and *most of* my sanity.

Oh, and there was our wedding. Bobby and I were married for the 147th time per our daughter's request. They are quite the wedding planners making (gorgeous, pipecleaner) rings, tissue paper flowers and a lego cake for the occasion. It was a fine affair full of dancing, kissing, bouquet tossing, elegance, music and romance. (Or it would have been, if not for the male children who simply do not appreciate such fanciness.)

Then, there was the (((loud))) practice of the newest boy band to grace the home stage.

And, eating a mountain of a meal over at the grandparents house to visit with out of town family.

And finally, the self-portrait-paper-plate-designing-because-that's-as-crafty-as-I-get.

I made one too.

Can you tell who is who?

- Picasa is still not working - sorry these pics are so small -

My thoughts exactly

If you have adopted, or are in the process of adopting, or are thinking about adopting, or have ever considered adoption, or would like to support someone who has adopted, or love someone who is adopting, or know anyone who would like to adopt, or are the grandparents of adopted children, or the friends of parents who have adopted, or have ever heard of adoption, you should really read this. Really.

It brought tears to my eyes. It is my story too.

Psalm 103

This is one of my favorite psalms of all time. It reminds us that God has removed our transgrassions from us, and forgiven our iniquities - that He remembers we are dust and pities us as a Father pities His children.

The recording cuts off at 1 minute, the kids keep going (with plenty more yawning from the boys) - but you get the idea..... :)

Memorizing entire sections or chapters isn't as hard as I would have thought. Jayla, Onyx and Tyden are doing really well with it. (Meadow and Flint aren't able to keep up yet. Their English skills aren't quite there at this time.) For now, I am preferring this type of memorization to the random-verses-out-of-context approach.

The cameraman (me) was momentarily distracted with Clover and cut part of Onyx out for a while. Woops!

~ Bless the Lord O my soul and all that is within me. Bless His Holy Name. ~