Angels in Adoption

Sixteen years ago I met an amazing friend. By chance (ha ha), we showed up at Scholarship Days at our college of choice, started talking, became quick friends, and requested each other as roommates for the upcoming year. We wrote letters all summer and in August of 1993 embarked on the journey we called higher education. I can't even begin to list all of things we got ourselves into that year (some she wouldn't want me to), but we had a great time.

Life took us our separate ways off and on, but in 1996 she reconnected with an equally amazing guy, who proposed to her in front of 500 people at FCA Conference. I had been dating my fiance for 2 years, and we had been engaged for 9 months already, so I think my first words to her were, "Don't you dare get married before me!" What a sweet friend I was. She did not listen to me, and three months later they were married and started on their ministry journey together.

Some people called them crazy, but they quickly jumped into foster parenting and adoption of kids floundering in the system. They did not wait and try and try for years to have their own children, as most people do, they felt God's call to help kids who needed a loving home.

Over the course of several years, they have adopted seven children, ranging in ages from 9 months to 17 at the time of adoption. They have rejoiced in the times of celebration of finalized court dates, and this month cried tears of sorrow when the adoption of twin baby boys fell through. Through it all, their faith is strong, amazingly strong.

Today is a big day in the lives of these friends of mine. This morning they will face the reality that no child wants to face - laying a parent to rest. My friend's loving father passed away last Friday at the early age of 56. Please say a prayer for this family today. They have been on an emotional roller-coaster for several weeks.

Then this evening my friends will board a plane for Washington D.C. In the midst of all the heartache and suffering they have experienced in the past two months, God reminded them of how special they are. They were nominated by Congressman Jerry Moran to receive the 2009 Angels in Adoption award, which recognizes individuals who have made an impact in foster care and adoption. Past recipients have even included Bruce Willis, First Lady Laura Bush, and Muhammad Ali.

So, to these friends of mine...you truly are incredible. You are on our hearts and minds today as you continue to balance your topsy-turvy world. May you feel an immeasurable amount of peace this day as you celebrate your father's life and mourn his passing. My prayer is also that you will be able to relax this week, enjoy the time with each other, and allow people to lavish you with praise! You deserve it!

Progress

If you haven't read yesterday's post, this one is not going to make any sense. Go ahead, I'll wait.

OK, so we have coaxed Dakota inside several times now. Each time she stands at the door whining like she wants in, yet refusing to step over the threshold. Personally, I know she's standing there thinking, "If I just stand here long enough, they will bring out the treats. If I run right back out the door after one, I will score a second."



She is right. It always takes two, and then the work begins.

Check out the results of this venture.

Two adults -- Check.

Calm dog -- Check.

Collar -- Check.

Leash -- Check.

We have not been able to get a collar on her for four weeks. We were pretty proud of ourselves, so my husband headed outside with her for a walk. Two seconds later he came back in with leash and collar in hand, but no dog. It seems as if the collar was not tight enough, and she ran right out of it. Grrr!

Back we went to square one. Door open, two dog treats....blah blah blah. I am, however, proud to report that she once again is wearing her collar (we'll see if it is still on in the morning). No leash or walk yet, because, really, we only have so much time in one day.

More Dog Drama

Have I mentioned that I am not a pet person? Oh yes, I think I have.

We are desperate. I think this dog is giving us some sort of complex. It has been just over a month and we were getting nowhere. One day we would see progress, then the next day...wrong.

Every month we are supposed to give her heartworm medicine and flea/tick medicine. The heartworm medicine is no big deal, it is like a treat that she devours in 3 seconds. The flea/tick medicine is a different story. To do this one, we actually have to get CLOSE to her.

So I have done something I swore I would never do. See these pictures? The dog is INSIDE my house. And not only is she inside my house, we lured her inside with treats. On purpose.

We have even spent our precious time watching Cesar Millan videos and gleaning advice from friends on how to get this dog to overcome her fear of us. Apparently the best way is to get into her space, and force her to spend time with us. That is impossible in an enormous backyard.

So here I am, with a dog walking around the island in my kitchen. So far it is working. I'm guessing by tonight I will actually be able to apply the flea/tick medicine, that is if my husband would stay away. Dakota REALLY isn't fond of adult males.

In the mean time, is it my imagine or is my house starting to smell like dog??

WET DOG.

That Was Then, This Is Now

For the most part, I do not enjoy getting older. I'm only 34 and already my body is reacting in ways I'm not too impressed about.

There are a few things, however, that I do enjoy about this grown-up, responsible, adult life. Okay, there are truly many things I enjoy, but one especially jumped out at me today.

My brother's birthday is tomorrow, so today my mom and I met him for a day of birthday shopping. We had a great time, and it made me stop and think about how things used to be, say, 25-30 years ago.

Then....we would have fought who got to sit in the front seat.
Now....we offered to to each other. "You go ahead and sit in front." "You sure?" "Yeah, I'm fine back here." Wow. Back then you couldn't have paid us enough money to let the other one sit up front.

Then....we walked as far away from each other as possible, pretending we didn't know each other.
Now...we walked beside each other, and actually would have admitted to someone we were related.

Then....the child with the birthday would have gotten to choose. There probably still would have been a fight, and the choice would have been made not according to what the favorite place was, but which place would provide more torture for the sibling.
Now...the birthday boy "chooses," but that includes a couple of choices for us to discuss.

Then....we would have made fun of whatever clothes the other one picked out.
Now....we give honest opinions about what's good and what's not.

Then...we never would have purposely planned a shopping trip together.
Now...we arranged and rearranged to get it accomplished.

Great Day! Happy Birthday!

Random Thoughts

*My three year old is obsessed with the human body. Thankfully, not in the way you are probably thinking. He constantly wants to know what is going on inside the body...bones, muscles, blood, you name it, he likes it. At the doctor's office he stands fixated on the posters on the walls and asks, "What's that?" about every last detail. I can't pronounce 95% of the words, but luckily he hasn't figured out that I'm just faking my way through the answers. Today he came out of preschool with his newly created cardboard binoculars. His first words: "You have to be really careful with my new binoculars because they are made of cartilage!"

*Today my boys sat down to play Sorry together for the first time ever. They set up the board, put out the cards, and started a nice, quiet game. I was shocked at how well they got along -- for 12 whole minutes. Then the 3 year old wasn't listening, and the six year old started yelling, which brought on screaming. Kicking. Time-outs. Crying. Now I know why they named the game "Sorry."

*I dusted my bedroom today for the first time since surgery 4 weeks ago. It's very sad that it has been this long, it's not like the doctor gave me a dusting restriction. However, he did say to "listen to my body" when deciding what I could start doing post-surgery. My body said, "No cleaning."

*The big debate tonight: if sabertooth tigers are extinct. Oh good grief, I am way too tired for this.

Freedom of Speech?

Or just plain obnoxious?

I'm all for freedom of speech in this country, but this week I'm voting for just plain obnoxious. Or crazy. Or rude. Or out-of-their minds. Call it whatever you want.

First it was Congressman Joe Wilson shouting, "You lie!" in the middle of President Obama's speech. It doesn't matter whether you are Republican, Democrat, Independent, or just plain anti-political, it is still WRONG. That is taking "act first, seek forgiveness later" to a whole new level. If you can't hold your tongue, get out of office.

Then the other night we were watching the U.S. Open. Tennis should be a family-friendly event that we can all watch together, right? Apparently not when Serena Williams is playing. Thankfully the kids had gone to bed before she went on her tirade against the line judge who called her for a foot fault.

The saddest part of the whole thing (other than her berating another human being) is that she completely stole the spotlight from Kim Clijsters, who was unranked and obviously outplaying her belligerent opponent. No one is talking about how great Clijsters performed, everyone is focused on Serena. It makes one wonder if that was her hidden motive behind verbally abusing the line judge. The verdict is still out on whether she will be banned for future events. I'm all for second chances, but if you can't hold your tongue, get off the court.

Finally, I brought up Yahoo this morning and read about Kayne West barging right into Taylor Swift's speech at the MTV Video Music Awards. Seriously? I'm shocked at the audacity of people and depressed by the general lack of respect. If you can't hold your tongue, get off the stage.

I don't want my children to grow up thinking that this is okay. Maybe I'm old fashioned, but I'd rather my kids encourge, build up, and compliment others when they speak, and learn to handle things appropriately when they disagree. No one is perfect, and I am thinking of my own faults in this area as I write this. It's not easy to keep our mouths shut. But somewhere along the way it seems like "Freedom of Speech" has turned into "Freedom to Criticize, Condemn, and Attack At Any Given Moment."

Boys Will Be Boys

There's a golf club in the pantry,

I tripped over a dinosaur on the floor.

Who built a farm in the hallway?

I can't take this anymore!

The snakeskin on my kitchen table

Is about more than I can bear.

And what is all that crunchy stuff

All over the dining room chairs?

The bed looks like a jungle,

My dining room table is a tent.

There is a pile of sand on the floor,

And what did he just drop down the vent?

I can't keep up with the job charts,

Or the laundry or making the beds.

The bathroom is a complete disaster,

And is that underwear on their heads?

But then I was gently reminded,

It's like someone whispered from above,

"Remember all those years you prayed

For little ones you could love?"

And it all came rushing back to me,

All the loss, frustration, and tears

All the prayers and pleas and begging,

For days, then months, and then years.

So the house will never be perfect,

And I'll keep stubbing my toes on the toys.

But deep in my heart I'm ever-thankful

For God's gift of these two precious boys.

First Day of Preschool

Well, technically the first day was Tuesday, but I think they frown upon kids with strep entering the classroom. Even on the cherished first day.

I don't think he ever even realized he missed the first day. And hopefully by the time he is old enough to read this, he won't care anymore.

He is already a typical boy.



Me: How was your first day?

Him: Good.

Me: Did you have fun?

Him: Yes.

Me: Did you play with kids?

Him: Yes.

Me: What were their names?

Him: I don't know.

Me: What was your favorite part of the day?

Him: I don't know.

Me: What did you have for snack?

Him: Rotten apples. That was not good.

So Tired

Is it possible for a dog to get strep? 'Cause I'm sure she's next. It's either her or me, so I'm voting for the dog.

I don't want to complain, I know I should be so thankful (at least it's not H1N1), but I am so tired of hospitals, doctors, medicine, thermometers, pillows in the living room, and Madagascar on the TV.

Five days of fever. Three sick males. Two doctors appts. Positive strep test. Three sets of antibiotics. Kleenexes. Tylenol. Motrin. Madagascar for the 13th time. Did someone around here just have surgery? Oh yeah, that was me.

Nevermind. I guess I do want to complain.

I'm just SO.TIRED.


Note to self: Never blog at night. It's bad for positive mental health.