more than a parade

Kailin's Daisy troop marched in the Memorial Day parade in a little town not too far from ours. It was a really special experience to attend that parade - far beyond what I anticipated.

We rolled into town about 8:15 (parade at 8:45). Things were quiet. VERY quiet except for the few chairs and blankets that had been set out, I'm guessing Sunday night, to reserve spots. The street where the Scouts were lining up (the Boy Scouts as well as several other Girl Scout troops were also marching), however, was bustling with activity. I got Kailin where she needed to be and headed back toward the car so that the boys and I could head down toward the end of the parade route, park, and find a spot to watch the big event. The Boy Scouts had a float - a bunch of white crosses symbolizing grave markers and a sign that said, "All gave some. Some gave all." I've seen that phrase countless times before, but was instantly choked up.

In just the few minutes it took us to make the round trip back to the main street, it had transformed. Things were humming and everyone was bustling around getting ready. We got a prime spot with no trouble at all and settled in to wait the 15 or so minutes until the parade started. We had other families on either side of us and everyone was making pleasantries and greeting each other, although none of us were familiar.

There are more than a few things that I LOVE about small town living, and hometown parades are one of them. I adore that in our area of small towns you can still put out a blanket or chairs the night before the parade and no one will steal them and everyone respects the reservation. I love that you can sit near families you've never met before and yet feel warmth and camaraderie. I "love" that candy is still thrown and children race out from everywhere to grab it up (I have to love that one in quotes because we are a household that never has a shortage of candy and we usually have to toss the Halloween candy at Christmas and the Christmas candy at Easter and the Easter candy during parade season....).

I wasn't sure how Carter would do with the parade since it was his first (that we know of). I didn't know if it would be too loud or too chaotic for him, but he did great. He was pretty excited by it and very intrigued by the marching band.

We applauded the veterans as they passed by in antique cars bearing hand lettered signs with their names and the name of the war in which they'd fought. Steve was making comments to the boys about which of the cars he'd like to fix up someday and twice I tried to respond but found that I wasn't able to speak. There was a giant lump in my throat and there were tears in my eyes as we watched those men ride past. I hope that they could feel the gratitude in the crowd. Although some of them are old enough to have walkers in the back seat and their days in combat are well past, I hope they know that people remember their sacrifice. I may not always support the decision for our country to go to war, but my support and gratitude to the troops - past, present, and future - will never falter. Men and women willing to risk their lives for people they'll never know...it's beyond my ability with words to even begin to express the awe that stirs in me. It's beyond amazing and I'm so incredibly thankful that people like them exist. Having traveled in countries where people are not free to say what they want, write what they want, love who they want, and worship who they want makes me all the more thankful for the freedoms I have. I pray that I will never take my freedom, or the freedom of my children, for granted. There's no way my boys knew what I was thinking as I stood next to them that day, but, as is always my hope with this blog, I hope that someday they will.

Both boys got a charge out of seeing their sister in the parade, and she even wandered over and gave them some candy. Of course that's a surefire way into either boy's heart and they didn't disappoint!

The parade wasn't particularly long, but it was more than worth it to have gone.

sing a song

This morning I went to the bathroom alone.  I know - it's a scary endeavor.  Thankfully, Carter was able to perceive just how frightening an endeavor I'd undertaken, and followed soon after.  Although of course his mere presence outside the bathroom door would have given me oodles of comfort, he went the extra mile and worked up a little tune to help me pass the time. 

It made me smile and filled my heart with joy to hear him sing (at the top of his lungs, of course - because if you're going to sing, you may as well sing LOUD - especially if your potentially terrified mom is on the other side of a VERY THICK door!), "Mama loves you!!!!!  Oh.....Mama loves you, too!  Mama loves you!!!!  Mama loves you, too!!  Kurray!!"  (all of his Hs still come out as Ks.  "I needa kug!" "that's kurting me!")

When I emerged from the bathroom unscathed, well that was cause for an even bigger (and louder) celebration.  He sang the song again and then clapped his hand against his short arm with the biggest, widest grin on his impish face. 

I love that I've told him I love him enough times that it's a given for him now.  Mama loves him - no matter what.  Just yesterday when he'd a tad on the naughty side, had been scolded and was, in typical Carter fashion, sobbing hysterically at having disappointed me, I asked him if Mama loves him when he's naughty.  To my amazement and delight, he said yes.  I gave him a big squeeze and said that he was right - Mama does love him when he's naughty and when he's sassy and when I'm angry.  I love him every minute of every day with my whole heart.  And that's the truth! 

I'm so glad that I didn't get those 3 minutes alone today.  Having company was so much better....and the scary bathroom monsters didn't get me, either!

Unexpected

Yesterday we unexpectedly found ourselves visiting my mom in the late afternoon.  The kids and I helped her plant her potted flowers and then the kids had a wonderful time playing with the hose.  They watered the plants, Carter watered Steve, and then they stomped and played in the leftover water on the driveway.  Colby, due to his poor choices, was banned from operating the hose and was initially quite sullen and bitter over the whole event, but he came around in the end.  Steve had some fun spraying the kids in the face and they delighted in being allowed to get wet with their clothes on.  Best of all, I got some wonderful pictures of my kids - just being kids.  Since Blogger is apparently entirely opposed to allowing me to arrange the pictures, they're here in all their random glory.  Sometimes the beauty (and the fun) can be found in the most unexpected places!

six years of motherhood

I was going to do a Mother's Day post and talk about how blessed I have been as a mother and by my mother.  I was going to do that post on Sunday - Mother's Day.  But today is my Mother's Day.  On this day six years ago I became a mom in the flesh and blood and not just through hopes and dreams and a tiny photo.  On this day six years ago I learned what it means to know in an instant that you'd be willing to lay down your life someone you've only just met. 

Six years ago today (which happened to be Mother's Day in the US) I held Kailin for the first time.  It was quite a day.  It started with tons of nerves and ended with joy (for the parents) and exhaustion (for all of us).  In the six years that have followed, there have been joy and exhaustion on many, many occasions, but there have been so many other things as well. 

We have learned that our fiery Hunan girl wears her heart on her sleeve.  I love that about her and then again it is her downfall.  Too often she is hurt by something that was meant to be anything but hurtful.  But I also love that she feels in a way most people never will.  As often as she wears her sorrow on her sleeve, she wears her joy there, too. 

We have seen her tender heart go out to those who don't have many other friends and to her brothers when they are hurting - even though they drive her nuts a lot of the time.  She makes me proud to be her mom more times than I could ever hope to count and sometimes she is my hero.

We have watched her crawl and then walk, learn to talk, get teeth and (more recently) lose them, learn to pedal a tricycle and learn to ride a bicycle.  We've been with her from the time she could only scribble to a time when she will merrily draw a recognizable (and far better quality than I could produce) "choo choo" for her Thomas loving brother.   Days of naming her stuffed animals and dolls whatever they were - "Dog" was a huge part of our lives for awhile, although there was "Sausage" the ostrich - he was an exception to the rule- have transformed to days of naming a spider plant with a creative "hedgehog". 

In six years she has blossomed from a clingy, unsure, grieving baby to a talented, opinionated (most often in a good way!), loving, funny, sensitive little girl who is less little every single day.  She is the light in our eyes and the joy in our hearts and our lives would, without a doubt, be lacking without her. 

It's been a wild ride and I wouldn't change any of it.  So on this Mother's Day, I celebrate my beautiful oldest daughter.  We'll celebrate her family day tomorrow when Daddy can be home to help us enjoy the party.  Her choice of menu this year is hard shell tacos....because dumplings and eggrolls are so last year??  With Kailin, it's hard to know. 

road rash

Carter had a little incident with the sidewalk over the weekend and has a little road rash as a result.  He was running and caught his toe on the sidewalk. 

One thing I've learned about little guys with upper limb differences is that they just don't even try to brace themselves when they fall.  I don't know if their brains somehow "know" that it wouldn't be a good brace because of the length difference or how it works, but I do know that they fall flat on their little faces.  And fall he did. 

I scooped him up and he howled for a good long while - I'm sure it was exacerbated by the fact that he was REALLY overtired and I think it really did hurt pretty bad.  Steve took him in the house (I was tending our rummage sale) and cleaned him up and had him giggling inside of a few minutes.  I assured him that it would be much better in the morning and wouldn't "kurt" (his Hs come out like Ks for some reason) so much. 

Sure enough, even though his eye was a little swollen the next morning, he declared that his owie was much better and "it not kurt me!"  He's such a brave little guy and wears his battle scars well!

ready, set, GO!

Last Sunday we baptized Carter.  We waited the longer from his adoption than we did with either of the other two kids, but we wanted to make sure that he was truly comfortable and that he knew enough English to understand what was going on and not to be afraid.  I didn't want his faith journey to start with fear. 

One of our pastors called me last week to see if there were any specific songs I wanted for the service since she hadn't yet chosen them.  I told her there really weren't.  After we hung up, I remembered a song that I love - "I Was There to Hear Your Borning Cry".  We sang it at my Confirmation and at my dad's funeral.  He loved it and I love it, too.  I emailed our pastor to say that if she hadn't yet chosen, I'd like that one.  She emailed me right back to say that she had literally JUST chosen that very song moments before my email.  The Spirit was at work that day for sure!

I took the boys to "shurch" (as Carter would say) on Friday for a little dry run.  Carter did well with the practice and said he WOULD let Pastor Paul pour water on his head three times (not five, like Carter wanted) and he WOULD let Pastor Paul pick him up and carry him around to show him off to his new brothers and sisters in Christ.  I wasn't sure that we could trust the word of my darling boy, but it was all we had. 

Sunday morning was a bit chaotic.  We attend the 8:00 service and normally manage to arrive at about 7:59:30.  We needed to be AT church by 7:40 to go through the service with Carter's sponsors - my sister and her husband, Nick.  It was down to the wire, but everyone (except me) was ready and in the car buckled up when we were supposed to leave.  I wasn't too much behind them and we were at church with two full minutes to spare.  If you'd asked me six years ago if I would ever even think that two minutes mattered much, I'd have said no.  But lots of things are down to the minute.  I send the kids out to the bus at 7:53, not 7:51 or 7:56.  Those two minutes MATTER.  I can run to the bathroom, do my business, wash my hands, and be back before the microwave can heat up my cup of coffee - the minutes matter.  I digress.

All three kids wore bright red Chinese outfits for the big day.  We choose to baptize our children in red because it is the color of joy in China and it is a way we can honor their heritage.  We choose not to baptize our children in white because white is the color of death in China.  Baptism symbolizes new life and we are overjoyed that our children will share in God's love and the promise of eternal life - that their sins are forgiven and they are washed clean. 
 
 I'm not sure if I was more nervous about the actual baptism part of the service or the fact that I'd be trying to keep my three kids entertained and quiet in the front row of the church!   Tears ran down my cheeks as we sang "I Was There..."  Tears of sorrow that my dad wasn't able to be standing with us in church, although he was there in spirit I'm sure, and tears of joy that my baby can begin a lifetime of peace and comfort knowing that he has God's grace.  Carter kept his promises and let Pastor Paul pour water on his head three times and although he asked "WHY?" when Pastor Paul asked if he could pick him up, he cheerfully allowed it.  He even shook hands a few times after the service - much to my surprise.


Despite the pouring rain that threatened to baptize us all, it was a beautiful day.  We have an amazing God. 

kickin' it old school

Kailin had Daisies on Tuesday night and Steve had a retirement planning class after work, so the boys and I found ourselves with about an hour to kill in a little town just north of where we live.  I decided that surprising them with a visit to a little park there would be really fun.  I had no idea.  If I had, I might've thought to bring a camera or my Flip video. 

We pulled in and Colby said, "What are we doing?  Are we going here?"  I said we were in fact, "going here" and he screamed "I love you!  You're the best mama!!"  I'll take it - however brief it is.  Carter simply queried, "Get up?  Can we get up?"  Yep, bud, we can get up, out and run on over there.  Colby can jump out of the van on his own, but Carter still likes a little assistance.  I had barely gotten the soles of his shoes on the asphalt when he took off running like only a gleeful child can. 

For a few minutes, we played on the modern equipment.  Then Colby wanted to try the old-school metal animal swings.  They're pretty far from tame - no safety features like today's playground stuff and he didn't last long before he decided to move on.  Colby is a born risk taker with one caveat - heights.  He is both thrilled and frightened by swings in general, so these wild and crazy models were a little more than he could take. I suggested that we try out the "blast from my past" wide metal slide with the little covered top on it.  I'm sure anyone over the age of 30 can imagine one.  Your options for accessing the slide are steps or one of two arching monkey bar/climbing apparatus(es?  i?  I have no idea what the plural of apparatus is.  I could choose another word, but my nouns are all gone at the moment.).   Colby thought he'd try the arch, got about to the part where it started to arc over, and wanted to rethink his decision.  I grabbed his legs tightly and promised him I would not let him fall.  Then I taught him how to climb it without needing to feel unsteady.  It took him 3 tries before he was scaling it like a monkey would.  Not to be outdone by his brother, Carter started in on the arch.  He got himself up 3 rungs, but then needed my help.  Because of his short arm, he needed a lot more of my help than his brother did, and after a few tries we decided that he needed to use the stairs.  However, it showed me that when he's physically big enough to do it and wants to, there won't be anything that can stop him.  He was DETERMINED.  The boys were keen on going down the slide together, but without the stickiness of summer, it was pretty slick and both ended up tumbling off the end the first go.  Colby rolled with it (quite literally) but Carter immediately accused Colby of pushing.  I attempted to explain but nothing I could say would stop the dirty looks.  Ha!  After I"d caught Carter a couple of times he had the rhythm of it and we all three went down together and then took turns going down in various combinations.  We were having the best time!

When I tired of going up the steps to the slide (there's no way I could, in good conscience, claim that the boys tired of the slide), I pointed to the old metal merry go round a little ways off.  "Hey boys, let's go try that!"  They were only too happy to comply.  They got themselves on and situation and I gave the merry go round a little push.  Colby broke into a wide smile.  Carter looked...unsure?  sick?  far from happy for certain.  I asked if he wanted me to stop.  I got a resolute "NO." so I spun it a little faster...and there it was.  Carter's face erupted into a huge smile about the same time as his brother started giggling wildy.  It was the best moment of my day!  And then it wasn't.  I watched in horror as Carter lost his grip and flew off the merry go round and landed in the dirt with a thud.  It didn't take more than a split second for him to start wailing and I was there to scoop him up not a split second after that.  To my utter surprise, almost as quickly he was pushing away from me.  I thought for a moment that we'd slid back on the attachment see-saw and he didn't want me to comfort him.  In actuality it was that he wanted to get right back on the merry go round.  I let him, but we repositioned him a bit and had him hold on with his right hand and his left armpit.  That worked better, but there was still a moment (I'm guessing when he got good and dizzy) where he wavered and swayed backwards.  I was able to prevent a fall, but I wasn't able to prevent him from making it clear that he was NOT going to stand idly by and watch his brother have all the fun (and if the uncontrollable - to the point where he SAID "I can't stop laughing, mama!!" - giggles were any indication, his brother WAS having tons of fun!).  Eventually we came to the solution that if he sat with his back toward the middle of the merry go round, we were pretty safe.  I'd spin them til one of them yelled "STOP!!!".  One time Carter did decide to take a break and tried pushing Colby.  That would have worked out fine, but he was pushing with his short arm toward the merry go round (thus reaching across his body).  His spatially inept mother didn't think to suggest that he turn around to do it and one of the times he reached forward to grab the bar to push, it nailed him right in the cheek.  More tears - but again very short lived and he was back to pushing again - facing the other direction.  Good thing one of us has some smarts!  One time Carter got off and tried to run right back over to the slide.  That was priceless - he ran in a perfectly diagonal line AWAY from the slide.  I ran over and redirected him. 

Too soon it was time to go and in a fit of desire to make the most of his waning moments in the park, Colby wanted to be pushed faster and faster and faster until suddenly it was too late.  He held an empty coffee can the whole way home "just in case".  I'm hoping it doesn't deter him from another go on the merry go round because I would really love for Steve to be able to witness Colby's joy and uncontrollably belly laugh sometime. 

On the one hand, I'm sorry I didn't have any means by which to photographically document our adventure.  On the other - it allowed me to be committed to playing with the boys and I think that just might be worth more than a picture.