Last night, while walking through Target, Benjamin and I passed the lingerie section. In the front, bellied-up to the aisle, were rows upon rows of brightly colored brassieres. They came in extra large sizes with inch-thick padding stiff enough to withstand the poke of a small finger. They swayed on their slight hangers.
Benjamin was enthralled. Poking at them as I turned around to hurry him on his way, he announced in the most amazed voice as if this were the coolest discovery ever:
"Whoa, Mama! Look at deez apples! Whoa!" (gleeful giggles followed)
December 29, 2010
December 28, 2010
Catching Up: Thanksgiving
I am sadly behind on chronicling our present adoption journey, our holiday fun, and the parenting thoughts rattling around in my head of late. A few reasons - I was sewing. Sewing presents and buying presents. I was observing advent with imperfect intentionality - something I've never done before. (The intentionality part...I do imperfect all the time.) And I got sick. Well, the whole of the P-Pod has been sick off and on, and right on Christmas Eve and Christmas, too! I might actually be almost normal tomorrow. And, probably most importantly, I have been living life. Sometimes I feel that the documenting of my life impedes the living of it. There is this awareness and focus now with a child in the picture to really LIVE it. Sometimes this requires a lot of time.
I will try to kick out a few entries this week before 2011 sets in.
THANKSGIVING FUN
In the Eastern Sierra Nevadas, in a tiny town called Aspendell but twenty miles outside of Bishop, there is a cabin. A cabin that was built when I was eight or nine - I'm not sure of the date exactly.
This cabin has born witness to many family adventures, card games too numerous to count, a dozen Thanksgiving turkeys, family friends of all shapes and sizes, and the clutter of wet winter gloves and summertime fishing poles.
This was Benjamin's third visit to this magical place.
We did not go alone. We brought family...cousins, in fact.
We brought my cousin, Sarah, and her husband, two children, and brother-in-law. It was just like old times.
Sort of.
Not really. It's kind of weird being the grown-ups. But it was like old times in that the rooms were filled with chatter and children. The scent of hot meals - pancakes, or pea soup, or roasted turkey and mashed potatoes - filled the air. We congregated.
When the snow came freshly down, we sledded.
The front "yard" is a great place for toddler-sized sled runs.
Not for big people, of course. We sink down into the bushes below the surface. Please don't ask how I know this.
And the street, when covered with 3 inches of snow, is a fabulous ride for people of all sizes. You can ask me about this. I experienced it a few times, in fact.
After getting soaked right through, munchkins returned to the wood-burning-stove warmed living area to partake in some hot cocoa.
Benjamin preferred to lick up the whipped cream. Then he asked for more. "I want more whip cweam, Mama. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease."
Notice the mug. This was from the old photo paper days when my dad was first in the photo lab business. This mug has most likely been at the cabin since the day we first moved into it.
See Benjamin's hands? The placement of his fingers? This is a very Benjamin way to hold something. All his fingers stuck together.
And at the end of the day, the small guys took a warm bubble bath.
Thanksgiving was warm and bright, even in the snow.
I will try to kick out a few entries this week before 2011 sets in.
THANKSGIVING FUN
In the Eastern Sierra Nevadas, in a tiny town called Aspendell but twenty miles outside of Bishop, there is a cabin. A cabin that was built when I was eight or nine - I'm not sure of the date exactly.
This cabin has born witness to many family adventures, card games too numerous to count, a dozen Thanksgiving turkeys, family friends of all shapes and sizes, and the clutter of wet winter gloves and summertime fishing poles.
This was Benjamin's third visit to this magical place.
We did not go alone. We brought family...cousins, in fact.
We brought my cousin, Sarah, and her husband, two children, and brother-in-law. It was just like old times.
Sort of.
Not really. It's kind of weird being the grown-ups. But it was like old times in that the rooms were filled with chatter and children. The scent of hot meals - pancakes, or pea soup, or roasted turkey and mashed potatoes - filled the air. We congregated.
When the snow came freshly down, we sledded.
The front "yard" is a great place for toddler-sized sled runs.
Not for big people, of course. We sink down into the bushes below the surface. Please don't ask how I know this.
After getting soaked right through, munchkins returned to the wood-burning-stove warmed living area to partake in some hot cocoa.
Benjamin preferred to lick up the whipped cream. Then he asked for more. "I want more whip cweam, Mama. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease."
Notice the mug. This was from the old photo paper days when my dad was first in the photo lab business. This mug has most likely been at the cabin since the day we first moved into it.
See Benjamin's hands? The placement of his fingers? This is a very Benjamin way to hold something. All his fingers stuck together.
And at the end of the day, the small guys took a warm bubble bath.
Thanksgiving was warm and bright, even in the snow.
December 6, 2010
Tell me the story...
I am lying in bed, waking up slowly as I tend to do.
From down the hall, the sound of little feet pit-pat pit-pat towards my room. I keep my eyes closed. I am not ready to get up. I absorb the sound of his soles on the wood floors. It is delicious.
"Mama? I want to snuggle."
I open my eyes to his face - full and round - peering over the edge of the bed, one hand grasping for a hold on the slippery sheets. I reach my hand out and he takes it.
Now his head is on my tummy. He looks at me with his large blue eyes. I look at him and smile. My thumb runs across his cheek and through his hair. He smiles dreamily back.
This is a newer stage for him...this kind of lovely moment...this stillness.
"Tell me about the drive to the hospital."
Ah...this interest in his birth. As we have prepared our hearts and his for the arrival of a new baby, his love of hearing his own story has blossomed. He sits up, watching my face intently, as I begin.
"Well, we were at our home when we got the call that you were born. And we were so excited! We couldn't stop smiling! Papa put our things in the car and began to drive to the hospital. It was a long drive - you were born in a town that was four hours away from us. We talked about you the whole way. We talked about your name. We wondered...what special name could we give to such a special boy? We tried out many names. And the best name for you was Benjamin. You would be our baby Benjamin.
And it snowed when you were born. Did you know that? (He does - he likes that part.) You were born in winter, in a land where the snow comes down. It snowed as we drove to the hospital. Did I mention, we couldn't stop smiling?
Then we got to the hospital. We parked the car and went in the wide glass doors. It was a big hospital with many rooms and we had to find you. We walked down the halls and rode the elevators until we got to the right room. And when we went in, we saw Emma holding you, and Kevin by her side. And they said...do you want to hold your son? And we did! We held you for the first time! And we were so happy! You were our beautiful baby Benjamin!"
Sometimes we talk about adoption and how he grew in Emma's tummy and how God loves him and has a plan - a plan that meant he would grow up in our family. How Emma and Kevin are very special people to have recognized that God wanted him to have Mama and Papa as his Mama and Papa. How he has extra love in his life from Emma and Kevin and their families. We will talk about the significance of his middle name, the one meaning beloved, the one his birth parents chose for him. We will explain the beautiful ceremony that accompanied our receiving of him and our driving home to place him in his bassinet.
But this morning, the story he wants to hear is the part about how Mama and Papa discovered him. Crossed a great distance to get to him. How we picked his name. How it snowed. These are the details that matter as he contemplates meeting his baby sister one day soon. He wants assurance that he was waited for eagerly.
Just yesterday, as I organized a box of his special papers - hospital items from his birth, all the letters and cards he has received from biological and adoptive family members, keepsakes and such - he spotted a photo from the entrustment ceremony. Sometimes birth parents arrange this - to have a simple ceremony witnessed by family and close friends, where they officially hand over the child to the adoptive parents. Words are said, music is played, gifts are given, and the child enters his new family. This is how we received Benjamin.
"What is this, Mama?"
"That is you, all wrapped up in the special blanket that Emma made for you. You were so tiny! Papa called you a blue football, you were so tiny and all wrapped up."
We have spoken of this special blanket - the quilted bit of warmth where she embroidered the word LOVE in both her handwriting and Kevin's. But it is something he has only recently been able to comprehend.
Suddenly, he runs off. Gone for a moment, he then returns, dragging this blanket from one hand. He tosses it on my lap.
"Here. Hold me like a baby, Mama...in this blanket."
I wrap the blanket around his shoulders, it is no longer able to contain the whole of him. I hold his head, his shoulders, his arms close...his legs extend out on the floor. I rock him. He looks around the room with the foggy gaze of a newborn.
This is my boy, with his desire to understand how he was once a baby who was anticipated and held and rocked. This is my boy. Let us tell his precious story.
From down the hall, the sound of little feet pit-pat pit-pat towards my room. I keep my eyes closed. I am not ready to get up. I absorb the sound of his soles on the wood floors. It is delicious.
"Mama? I want to snuggle."
I open my eyes to his face - full and round - peering over the edge of the bed, one hand grasping for a hold on the slippery sheets. I reach my hand out and he takes it.
Now his head is on my tummy. He looks at me with his large blue eyes. I look at him and smile. My thumb runs across his cheek and through his hair. He smiles dreamily back.
This is a newer stage for him...this kind of lovely moment...this stillness.
"Tell me about the drive to the hospital."
Ah...this interest in his birth. As we have prepared our hearts and his for the arrival of a new baby, his love of hearing his own story has blossomed. He sits up, watching my face intently, as I begin.
"Well, we were at our home when we got the call that you were born. And we were so excited! We couldn't stop smiling! Papa put our things in the car and began to drive to the hospital. It was a long drive - you were born in a town that was four hours away from us. We talked about you the whole way. We talked about your name. We wondered...what special name could we give to such a special boy? We tried out many names. And the best name for you was Benjamin. You would be our baby Benjamin.
And it snowed when you were born. Did you know that? (He does - he likes that part.) You were born in winter, in a land where the snow comes down. It snowed as we drove to the hospital. Did I mention, we couldn't stop smiling?
Then we got to the hospital. We parked the car and went in the wide glass doors. It was a big hospital with many rooms and we had to find you. We walked down the halls and rode the elevators until we got to the right room. And when we went in, we saw Emma holding you, and Kevin by her side. And they said...do you want to hold your son? And we did! We held you for the first time! And we were so happy! You were our beautiful baby Benjamin!"
Sometimes we talk about adoption and how he grew in Emma's tummy and how God loves him and has a plan - a plan that meant he would grow up in our family. How Emma and Kevin are very special people to have recognized that God wanted him to have Mama and Papa as his Mama and Papa. How he has extra love in his life from Emma and Kevin and their families. We will talk about the significance of his middle name, the one meaning beloved, the one his birth parents chose for him. We will explain the beautiful ceremony that accompanied our receiving of him and our driving home to place him in his bassinet.
But this morning, the story he wants to hear is the part about how Mama and Papa discovered him. Crossed a great distance to get to him. How we picked his name. How it snowed. These are the details that matter as he contemplates meeting his baby sister one day soon. He wants assurance that he was waited for eagerly.
Just yesterday, as I organized a box of his special papers - hospital items from his birth, all the letters and cards he has received from biological and adoptive family members, keepsakes and such - he spotted a photo from the entrustment ceremony. Sometimes birth parents arrange this - to have a simple ceremony witnessed by family and close friends, where they officially hand over the child to the adoptive parents. Words are said, music is played, gifts are given, and the child enters his new family. This is how we received Benjamin.
"What is this, Mama?"
"That is you, all wrapped up in the special blanket that Emma made for you. You were so tiny! Papa called you a blue football, you were so tiny and all wrapped up."
We have spoken of this special blanket - the quilted bit of warmth where she embroidered the word LOVE in both her handwriting and Kevin's. But it is something he has only recently been able to comprehend.
Suddenly, he runs off. Gone for a moment, he then returns, dragging this blanket from one hand. He tosses it on my lap.
"Here. Hold me like a baby, Mama...in this blanket."
I wrap the blanket around his shoulders, it is no longer able to contain the whole of him. I hold his head, his shoulders, his arms close...his legs extend out on the floor. I rock him. He looks around the room with the foggy gaze of a newborn.
This is my boy, with his desire to understand how he was once a baby who was anticipated and held and rocked. This is my boy. Let us tell his precious story.
December 3, 2010
Christmas and Gifts
I am not brave enough to go giftless on Christmas - mostly because I really love giving gifts. I also love receiving gifts when someone has been so thoughtful as to make or find something that I will cherish (that's actually pretty easy to do...). This is part of my tradition. It's a warm and comforting element of the holidays.
But if Christmas is about celebrating Jesus' birthday, then I am quite challenged by the Voskamp family's approach - they give each other no gifts...instead they give gifts to Jesus in the form of feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, educating the uneducated, giving the poor an opportunity to start a business. We will be including this in our tradition - choosing gifts for Jesus by caring for his people - but I don't know that I'm ready to give up gifts to one another here.
For now we will focus our gift-giving on finding abundance in less, offering time and handmade things, and reminding ourselves that all of it has been made possible by the One whose provision has brought us here. I think that's a start.
And for more ideas on what to do on Christmas morning, I will refer to this post from Ann Voskamp.
But if Christmas is about celebrating Jesus' birthday, then I am quite challenged by the Voskamp family's approach - they give each other no gifts...instead they give gifts to Jesus in the form of feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, educating the uneducated, giving the poor an opportunity to start a business. We will be including this in our tradition - choosing gifts for Jesus by caring for his people - but I don't know that I'm ready to give up gifts to one another here.
For now we will focus our gift-giving on finding abundance in less, offering time and handmade things, and reminding ourselves that all of it has been made possible by the One whose provision has brought us here. I think that's a start.
And for more ideas on what to do on Christmas morning, I will refer to this post from Ann Voskamp.
December 2, 2010
My Take on It
Dear Parents:
You must be stronger than your children - so that when they are grown, they will equal or exceed your strength. If you are weaker than your children, they will become even weaker than you.
Love, Mama
*I keep this in mind whenever I am tempted to give in to the tantrum, to parent from the chair, to lose my temper, to succumb to worry, to make idle threats. The emotional, physical, and spiritual demands of parenting are great, and we must keep showing up - this is the loudest lesson children learn, for it is the one they test daily.
You must be stronger than your children - so that when they are grown, they will equal or exceed your strength. If you are weaker than your children, they will become even weaker than you.
Love, Mama
*I keep this in mind whenever I am tempted to give in to the tantrum, to parent from the chair, to lose my temper, to succumb to worry, to make idle threats. The emotional, physical, and spiritual demands of parenting are great, and we must keep showing up - this is the loudest lesson children learn, for it is the one they test daily.
Overheard
THIS MORNING
LP: Papa's like a snail.
Mama: Why?
LP: Because I don't like snails.
Mama: ???
--------------------------------
THANKFULNESS
Teacher: What are you thankful for?
LP: I thankful for the sun!
Teacher: Are you thankful for Mommy and Daddy?
LP: Yeah. And RACE CARS!
Teacher: What else are you thankful for?
LP: I thankful for rice. And clouds.
--------------------------------
VISITING THE PHOTO LAB WHERE PAPA WORKS
LP: Oh, wow! We're in the factory! This is a cool factory. Look at it!
LP: Papa's like a snail.
Mama: Why?
LP: Because I don't like snails.
Mama: ???
--------------------------------
THANKFULNESS
Teacher: What are you thankful for?
LP: I thankful for the sun!
Teacher: Are you thankful for Mommy and Daddy?
LP: Yeah. And RACE CARS!
Teacher: What else are you thankful for?
LP: I thankful for rice. And clouds.
--------------------------------
VISITING THE PHOTO LAB WHERE PAPA WORKS
LP: Oh, wow! We're in the factory! This is a cool factory. Look at it!
Just Like Papa
When Papa does his morning routine, he has a very avid audience.
On one occasion recently, Little P was allowed to join in the fun.
It started with a bit of shaving cream...
...which needed to be tasted, of course...
...and ended with a quick shave.
*Note: No toddlers were harmed in these photos. Expressions of pain are, in fact, expressions of delight.
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