Uh, what?

Instead of complaining about my children, I have only good things to report. Adam and Jacob have been playing WITH each other. I know, right? This has only been 3.5 years in the making. 

And what's even better than that? (Yes, it can be better!) They include Ava in their rough housing, anarchy, and debauchery. 

Who knew? I mean, I had hoped this would happen but after Adam said he wished Jacob would go to the desert and not come back, I had started to give up. 

I have other hopes, too. They sound crazy, but not quite as crazy as Jacob and Adam becoming friends, right? I mean, it's possible they will grow up and feel uneasy with their privilege and have hearts for those who have not. It is totally possible that they will have the courage to be different. 

Last night, Todd and I watched a show about the avalanche on Everest and the struggle of the Sherpas. I was sickened by the behavior of the Westerners. The people who pay obscene amounts of money to climb a mountain while Nepalese natives carry the heavy supplies and risk their lives on a daily basis... So when 16 Sherpas were killed, they all said, "everyone go home and mourn and grieve. No expedition is worth more than human life." Ha, yeah right. They sat around and complained that they would have to go home because the surviving Sherpas did not want to climb the mountain. 

We were in China when the earthquake hit Nepal last year. On all the news channels, there were reports of villages destroyed. So many people were injured or killed. You know what aired on American news? Reports about Westerners not being able to continue climbing Everest. Priorities, people. But here we are complaining about who can use which bathroom while children starve to death and die of preventable diseases. 

Uh, what?

Final Post

This morning, I read an article about a couple who sold everything to move with their children to China. They opened a foster home and now care for over 50 children with moderate to severe medical needs.

This afternoon, I read an article about an adoptive parent who created a non profit organization to help link older children in foster care and orphanages with loving adults and/or adoptive families because it's hard enough to "adult" with good role models. It is pretty much impossible to "adult" if you have never known one.

This evening, I held in my arms a beautiful, four week old baby who was born with meth in her system. She spent the first several days of her life in the hospital while the drug left her body, and she now lives in foster care.

Tonight, I kissed my three children and told them I loved them. I read to Jacob and Ava about Pete the Cat and his white shoes. I tucked Jacob in and rocked Ava. She still rocked herself to sleep, but it was gentle and peaceful. It is hard for me to fathom the long, lonely nights she spent in the orphanage with no one to rock her or kiss her good night.

A page has turned in our lives. A new chapter has begun. We have seen another side of humanity... the side where "the least of these" are suffering. We will never be the same. So it is time to end this blog as we have found our lost girl. But the next chapter? Who knows where the next chapter will lead us, but I am determined to shine a little light into the darkness for the children who need it.

Toddler Communication

Maybe I forgot about toddlers repeating things or maybe Jacob and Ava are just special, but it is flabbergasting how many times the kids make me repeat things. 

Jacob: "mom, you find my truck?"

Me: "yes, Jacob, I found your truck."

Jacob: "this my truck, mom?"

Me: "that's your truck. "

Jacob: "you find it? My truck?"

Me: "yes. "

Jacob: "my truck?"

Me: "YES. Your truck. I found your truck, Jacob!"

Ava: "you find Jacob's truck?"

Seriously, it is like living in the Twilight Zone or a mental institution or something. Preschool teachers must have nerves of steel. 

But trying to get a three year old to listen is even worse. 

Jacob: "I want a drink, pwease."

Me: "thank you for being polite. Would you like water or milk?"

....

Me: "Jacob, water or milk?"

...

Me: "Jacob?"

...

Me:"hello? Jacob?"

...

Me: "JACOB!"

Jacob: "you find my truck?"

If I spend half my days repeating things, I spend the other half looking for things the kids NEED. 

Jacob: "mom, I no find my truck?"

Me: "I think it's downstairs. "

Jacob: "where my truck go?"

Me: "I'm looking for it. Just a minute."

Jacob: "where my truck go? Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. "

Me: "I'm looking. "

Jacob: "I want my truck, mom."

-still looking ten minutes later-

Ava: "tummy hurts. Poop."

-take Ava to potty-

Ava: "I help you."

-spend 5 minutes helping Ava walk downstairs and changing her into the pajama shirt and Adam's bedroom slippers that she finds on the floor.-

Jacob: "I want my truck. Where my truck go?"

-finds truck in the middle of the floor where Jacob has been playing.-

Me: "Jacob, I found your truck!"

Jacob: "you find it, mom?!"

Me: "here it is."

Jacob: "I no want it. Where my train go?"

Ava: "I help you!"

Me Too

I wrote my last blog post after an especially long and hard day. When I went to bed, I kept wondering if it had been a mistake. After all, I had compared Jacob to Lord of the Flies and all three kids to mini terrorists.

The next morning, however, I was surprised at just how many friends had sent messages saying, "me too."

So many of us have days, weeks, months (eeek) that are simply survival. We keep the kids fed, clean(ish), and relatively unharmed. We let the dust bunnies feed on goldfish under the couch and the laundry doesn't always make it to the closet before being worn again. 

I know there are moms out there who do it all. They are stay-at-home moms who also work 60 hour weeks and bring home the bacon, fry it in the pan, get manis and pedis, and have shiny hair and clutter free homes. Then there are the rest of us who realize halfway through the grocery store that our flip flops don't match and our yoga pants are on backwards, but we don't care because the kids are not screaming and Nutella is on sale. Not that we are somehow better for our cluttered, messy lives. It's just reality. We don't get everything done, and we really wish we knew how others manage to do it when we cannot even manage to find our hairbrushes, much less use them.

I still forget after long, hard days of tantrums, fights, and complaints why I want this mom-life. Then I log on to Facebook to escape and see the faces hundreds of children who need a family... Most with moderate to severe medical needs. I see the moms new to the adoption community say, "how do you choose a child when there are so many? I want to help them all." Me too, friend.

But it's not all bad. It's not all hard. That's why I do what I do. It is all worth it to hear Jacob call out, "Sissy awake, too? Play with me," or Ava singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" and Adam offering to share his piggy bank money to help less fortunate kids buy toys. 

I lay awake at night dreaming of a children's home filled with children from all over the world who come for care and affection and family. I dream of taking a shower without Jacob yelling, "me too, mom, I want shower." I fantasize about Todd saying, "Ok, one more. I want another, me too." I dream of saying, "I love our family" and hearing a chorus of "me too." I don't want to feel alone in a room full of people who are passionate about Christmas shopping or their new grills. That stuff is great and all, but I long to be surrounded by people who can't sleep at night because there are 143 million orphans and most people just don't care.

Here are just a few of the kids who have my heart.

Gloria:

 

Aslan:

Kurt:

Henry:

Beating a dead horse

Here, struck down by the heat, I fell and the children hurled themselves at me. This dreadful eruption from an unknown world made me frantic; I squealed and bucked and the air was full of sweat and noise and blood and terror […]. The spear moved forward inch by inch and the terrified squealing became a high-pitched scream. Then Jacob found my throat and the hot blood spouted over his hands. I collapsed under them […].

Ok, so maybe it wasn't quite as bad as a scene from The Lord of the Flies, but it was bad. Jacob has reached the full fledged terrible, horrible, no good, very bad twos almost threes. 

Imagine a strong willed child who thrives on doing the very opposite of what you want them to do...and not with malice or vindictiveness, but with joy... a joie de vivre. Ok, now multiply that by three. We have three children with strong personalities, with strong wills. Ok, now add on the fact that Todd and I are pretty strong willed.  It's a perfect storm for insurgency, hostage negotiations, and hunger strikes. And that's just before 8 am. 

The peace that came with Jacob and Ava sharing a room was short lived. Jacob enjoyed playing musical beds a little more than he enjoyed having a roommate. He also gave up his strong hold on the crib the night he climbed out and fell on his head. Poor Ava was shuffled from bed to crib to mattress to floor as Jacob decided that wherever she was sleeping must be the best spot. 

Todd's strategy is to divide and conquer. So far, it seems to be working much better than letting them scream and yawn and rub their eyes even though they "aren't tired, mommy."

Jacob doesn't just want all the sleeping spots for himself, he needs what everyone else has. His plea for Adam to share was adorable the first 10,000 times, "pwease gege, pwease". (Gege is big brother in Chinese). But Adam's new favorite pastime is snatching up anything he thinks Jacob might want, and then he teases him until Operation Give Mom High Blood Pressure reaches a fever pitch and someone winds up with a bandaid and mom has high blood pressure and a hankering for Oreos dipped in Nutella.

Ava's reaction to Jacob's stinginess is a little different. He takes the toy or object from her, and she screams as if he just killed a puppy in front of her so we give the toy back and she hurls the object across the room and throws herself onto the floor distraught. So now Jacob is screaming for the toy and Ava is screaming, and I am over here like, "hey, Adam, remember when you were an only child?"

Our kids are like terrorists... Well, I mean, they haven't killed anyone...yet. But you can't negotiate with them. Honestly, you can't even have a conversation with them because they only seem to hear "mwah mwah mwah" like the mom from Charlie Brown. Trying to talk to them is like beating a dead horse... You wind up exhausted and frustrated, and they just lay there wondering what your problem is. 

"Hey, Adam. Do you want to go to the pool this afternoon?"

"Mo-om, you never let me do anything fun."

"What are you talking about? I want to take you to the pool."

"You said I can never go to the pool again!!"

And that's where I should stop. Because before I know it, he has a new Minecraft toy, a cookie, and plans to go to a waterpark. 

So tonight while I'm sleeping, I'm sure they will be planning their hostile takeover and the Battle to turn mom's hair grey will be looming on the horizon. But it's all good. My life is like Groundhog Day... If my defense fails today, I can try something new tomorrow. 

We gave them fire...what were we thinking?

Anything but ordinary

I considered not publishing this blog post. According to the Murphey's Law of Children, whenever you say something nice about your child(ren), they tend to make you regret it immediately afterwards. So after a morning of tantrums, whining, and fighting, I've decided to say it anyway. I'm a glutton for punishment. 

Yesterday, Adam told me that I am an ordinary person. 

Maybe I am "just" a mom. I live a typical American life. I complain that my kids don't eat enough vegetables and make too many messes. We take a yearly vacation at the beach, run through sprinklers, and can be found at the local soccer field in the fall and the tee ball field in the spring. We read Dr Seuss, squish play-doh, and watch Frozen WAY too often. 

My kids, on the other hand, make me feel  extraordinary...extraordinarily incompetent. 

Ava gets a kick out of pretending to kick me in the face. 

Adam tells me that I never let him do anything fun... minutes after we come home from playing at the park and swimming. 

And Jacob, well, he whines, fights, and marches to a different beat. 

So I may be extraordinarily inept at this parenting thing, and I am sure many people would accuse me of being boring. But one thing is for sure, I am never bored with my ordinary life. 

And my kids, I hope they realize their potential and learn to enjoy helping others. And if they must be spoiled, may it be with love and not possessions. I want the world to see their hearts and know that my kids are anything but ordinary. 

Changes

I have had a lot of folks ask recently how Ava is doing, what she is like, and how everyone is adjusting. So here goes...

Physical development: Ava has made some great improvements since coming home. For lack of a better term, she was very floppy when we first met her. She ran floppy, walked a little floppy, and would fall over constantly. Ava now runs much better and does her best to keep up with Adam and Jacob. She does not quite have their stamina yet, but she is improving daily. When Ava first came home, she could not even climb onto the couch. Now, we have to watch her and Jacob to make sure they do not jump off of the couch. She also likes to climb onto the coffee table.

English: Ava picks up new words and phrases every day. She seems to understand most of what we say. Her favorite things to say are: "my turn," "stop it," "Elsa," and "chocolate." Ava also loves music and tries to sing along even if she doesn't know the words.

Attachment: When we first met, Ava was very angry at me for replacing her nanny... her nanny who she called Mama. What helped our particular situation is that Ava did not suffer from lack of love, and she craves affection. She slowly learned that I will give her affection when she is sweet, when she is sad, when she is angry, and when she is naughty. I always love her. The second thing that helped was meeting Adam and Jacob. She immediately recognized them from pictures we had sent to her at the orphanage and bonded right away with them. She knows they are her people, so that must make Todd and me her people, too. I take Ava with me almost everywhere including to drop off and pick up Adam and Jacob from school or Summer Fun programs. I want her to see that I always come back. We still have our moments where she wails this primal, guttural scream that sounds something like a wounded animal that has been cornered. Thankfully, this rarely happens, but when it does it is both heart breaking and frustrating. I wish she could tell us what all she is thinking and feeling.

Food: Ava is slowly adding new foods to her diet. In addition to eggs, rice, and noodles, she now enjoys watermelon, cereal, goldfish crackers, chocolate, rice crispy treats, and French fries. Oh, and sweet tea! I do believe this girl is southern. 

Sleep: Ava has been sleeping in our room, but she slept in Jacob's room for the first time last night. She seemed to sleep much better in his room; i.e. she didn't fall out of bed. However, it took her a long time to fall asleep. She and Jacob are currently napping together in their room. Whew.

Personality: We are still learning who Ava is and what makes her tick. As she grows more and more comfortable with us, her silly side has emerged. She loves to pretend to want a high five only to fake us out. She will also offer us a bite of food only to pop it into her own mouth while giggling hysterically. She loves to help and to show affection. She helps me fold clothes, wipe up spills, and gives the best spontaneous hugs and tickles. Her newest thing is to whisper "I love you" in my ear like it is a special secret. I wish I could bottle it and save it forever. She is still exploring her independence: sometimes she acts helpless and other times wants to do everything herself. We tend to follow her lead and offer encouragement to build up her confidence. She loves to swim, sing, and chase her brothers.

How are we doing? Amazing and bad and everywhere in between. I am taking each day one minute at a time. One minute is how fast things can change. Everyone will be happy and sharing and playing. The next minute, I have three kids melting down because there is only one spool of ribbon to drag around or because Adam is playing with Minecraft Steve and Jacob needs the diamond sword and Ava screams and cries because everyone else is screaming and crying. Adam taught Jacob to say "dumb" so to counteract that I taught Jacob "smart."  He hurls, "you're smart" at Adam like an insult. It's pretty awesome. Todd and I finally had our first date night since meeting Ava. We ate dinner at our favorite local restaurant and did what every parent does when they are away from their kids...talked about the kids. Todd is still adjusting to being outnumbered by the kids and helps me during my meltdowns. I have been too busy to dwell on the fact that my house is a disaster and that I yell more than I would like. Unfortunately (or dare I say fortunately?), I am never too busy to think of the approximate 143 million orphans in the world. Ava changed my world in the best possible way. 

"It sounds beautiful, adventurous, even romantic in ways, right? It is beautiful. And the crazy thing is, it is so simple. Don’t misunderstand; it is not easy. But it is simple in that each and every one of us was ultimately created to do the same thing. It will not look the same. It may take place in a foreign land or it may take place in your backyard, but I believe that we were each created to change the world for someone. To serve someone. To love someone the way Christ first loved us, to spread” ― Katie J. Davis, Kisses from Katie

Connecting the Spots

Ava had another quick check-up this week for a weight check and two more shots. 

Ava has only gained about 3/4 of a pound, but she is clearly thriving so the pediatrician told us to keep working on adding foods but that she looks great. She really does. (Photo courtesy of 2 year old Jacob)

The night of her weigh-in was one of the rougher nights we have had in a month. She was happy until it was time to lay down and then she started screaming. And she kept screaming and crying and throwing things and banging her head and rocking until an hour or two later when she finally passed out from exhaustion. 

During her epic meltdown, I sang to her, tried to cuddle her, and rocked her. She screamed, hit, and kicked. I said, "no" but then I would try to comfort her again. I told her "I love you." And in the midst of her screams she returned a shrieky "I looove shzoooo."

She woke up the next morning with a big toothy grin. 

And then we encountered our first clueless observer. 

We ran a few errands and bought some white t-shirts to tie dye. In the checkout line, a woman asked if "someone got into the markers." 

I didn't have to look around to know she was talking about Ava. I knew. I have heard the stories of other parents being asked the exact same question. 

I glanced down to Ava (just in case she actually HAD gotten into the markers) and back at the woman. 

I opened my mouth to educate her, to chastise her, to defend my beautiful little girl. But all I said was, "no" and walked away. 

How could I not SAY SOMETHING to that woman? I screamed inside my head. 

Did I fail my first test as Ava's mom? I hope not. I hope it was the right way to answer a clueless question. 

Then Charleston happened. I'm sure you heard about the white man who entered the historically black church and killed 9 praying people. 

As a white person, it's somewhat easy to believe racism and discrimination are not a problem. It's easy because you blend in and look like everyone else. 

In China, we stood out. People stared at us for being white and people stared at Ava for being spotted. We were treated differently. Everyone was kind and helpful, but it was obvious we didn't belong. 

Everyone will always be able to pick out Ava as our adopted daughter. She won't even be able to blend in with her own family. 

So everyday, I show her my spots and I point to hers and say, "we are the same." And Jacob shouts, "me too! I have a spot!"

I shall call her 'Mini Me'

Having two boys is fun. There is a special bond between a mom and a son... But when it comes to adventure, the boys look to their dad. Boys... I thought. 

But now that I have a daughter, I am discovering a new world. 

A lot of Ava's learning happens through imitation. She watches us do things, and then she imitates our actions. 

Time and time again, I see her "being mommy."

Ava puts her babies to bed the same way I put my babies to bed... With a hug, a kiss, and I love you. 

When Jacob drew on Adam's door with a Sharpie, I scrubbed it clean with a Mr Clean Magic Eraser (it worked!!). Days later, Ava found a white sponge in the toy closet and set to work cleaning the door. 

As I wash my face and put on moisturizer, my little girl rubs her face and asks for "lo-shun." So I put a little in her sweet hands, and she happily rubs her cheeks. 

I put on makeup and she grunts and points to her own lips, cheeks, and eyes. I pluck my eye brows and she pretends to pluck hers. 

And it hits me. It hits me hard. With this sweet daughter who watches me ever so closely, who listens to every word I say, I have a new responsibility. I am responsible for showing her how to love others and how to love herself. 

There will come a day when someone hurts her...when someone picks on her...when someone reacts negatively to her birthmarks. 

I have to be strong and positive and embrace my physical flaws (i.e. Not talk about them) so that she can be strong and positive and trust when I say that she has no physical flaws. 

This is scary. How many times a day do I mutter about my muffin top or my chin hairs? (Too many times.) How often do I say, "I feel pretty today" or "that was a great walk, I feel so strong"?? (Not enough, if ever.)

Out in public, most little boys do not give Ava a second look. And the ones who do ask about her spots, well, they are delighted to know that they have freckles or little moles like hers. They are COOL. 

But the little girls... Oh, how they stare and their little minds churn and struggle with what they see. Because the blemishes of little girls are fussed over. Little girls are supposed to be pretty and perfect and hairless (except for their long, perfectly coifed hair, of course). Beauty is on the outside. 

But not for me. Not anymore. Beauty is more than perfection. I prefer the beauty of imperfection. The beauty of a person who walks despite the crippling effects of cerebral palsy. The beauty of the brave little girl with a giant left leg that she must drag around..and she does because nothing slows her down. 

I want my little mini me to grow up to be silly, determined, compassionate, empathetic, hard working, and brave. 

Her beauty is just the icing on the cake, the gilding of the lily. I love Ava's spots. I want her to love them too. 

Even the polar bears

It is no secret that the past couple of months have been hard... What with the traveling, the adoption, and the life changes since we have been home. 

Ava is doing amazingly well. Just two months ago, she lived in an orphanage with hundreds of other children and (according to her nannies) was terrified of strangers. 

Now, she is a beloved daughter who will spontaneously give hugs and cuddles while smiling her cheesy grin and shouting "I lob shjou."

Six weeks ago, we met a screaming, crying, scared little waif. 

Last Friday, a happy, growing girl watched ducks at the park. 

Saturday morning, an adventurous and sassy girl visited a tunnel, a waterfall, and took her first hike. 

Saturday evening, a daring and courageous girl rode on a tube with Adam, Jacob, and mommy. 

Boy, I would have paid some serious money to know what she was thinking. Less than two months ago, she lived in an orphanage with limited exposure to the outside world. And now these crazy people are pulling her behind a boat. 

Sunday, she visited church for the first time. I stayed with her and Jacob in the toddler's class. We were probably pushing our luck with so much "new" in one weekend. Ava had trouble sleeping. I suppose the classroom triggered some memories and maybe grief or fear. 

So Monday, we stayed at home and I wondered just how in the world I would survive the summer with these three monkeys. 

That night, as we were putting Adam to bed, I said his good night prayer. 

"Dear God, please let me survive the summer. Amen."

Adam laughed and said he hoped I didn't survive. 

I sighed and started to chastise him when he said, "I'm just kidding. I love you. Everyone loves you. Even the polar bears. "

I'm not sure what I did to deserve the polar bears' affection, but I think I will survive the summer. 

Losing It

Part of our adoption training focused on adoption loss. 

As the adoptive parents, we have lost Ava's early years and many of her firsts. We missed rocking her to sleep, her first smiles and giggles, and her first steps. 

Ava lost her birth family, her orphanage family, her country, her language, and the life she should/would have had. 

Ava's losses are huge. But no matter how big and how seemingly insurmountable Ava's losses are, her birth parents are the ones who lost it all. 

They will never know this smart, silly, and helpful girl. They won't see her grow or learn. They won't be there when she gets married or gives birth/adopts babies of her own. And the saddest, most maddening part (to me) is that I do not know if they care that they are missing Ava's life. 

Adjusting to life with Ava has been mostly easy. But while she is gracefully given the occasional (daily? hourly?) emotional outburst, I'm still learning how to deal with mine. No one wants to hear a 33 year old woman whine or cry about how hard it is to hold two toddlers at one time. I have to be the adult. I have to suck. it. up. But there are too many feels that must be felt. So sucking it up doesn't always go so well. 

Sometimes, but not often, I'm embarrassed. Like, when Jacob tells everyone at the dinner table that he pooted. Or when Ava has a melt down in front of our neighbors because I was not doing our walk 'right.'

Sometimes, I am extremely amused while pretending to be exasperated in order to discourage naughty behaviors. 

Ava climbed onto the coffee table and shot me a sassy look while simultaneously shaking her behind at me. 

"What, mom? You don't want me to dance on the table?"

"Come on. Raise the roof."

And how do you explain the exhausted and powerless feeling when nap time rolls around and your child wants to sleep NEVER and thinks it is a good idea to try to fall on her head?

That. That is when I'm on edge and snap because Todd doesn't take Adam with him on his daily escape attempt, I mean, trip into town. That is when I haul Ava back into the bedroom so she can assault the window shades and batter her head against her bed before passing out on the floor. 

So as I sit on the couch with nerves twitching like a crackhead in rehab and wonder where my sanity has gone, I still pity Ava's birth parents. Maybe they regret leaving her behind. Maybe they don't. I just can't suck 'it' up. I can't stop feeling the feels. Because no matter how hard my days are, no matter how much b.o. I have from not showering as often as I would like, or no matter how frizzy and unkempt my hair becomes, I would not trade one single moment of the life I have gained with my Ava girl. But her bio parents, it is their loss. 

Little Bird

I have heard stories of 4 year olds coming home from China who wear size 18 month clothing because of malnutrition and their bodies being in fight or flight mode their entire lives. Stress stunts growth.

After we were home for a couple of weeks with Ava, it was time to visit the pediatrician for a check up, blood work, and vaccinations. The only real cause for concern at this time is Ava's weight. 

Fortunately, Ava has always been fed regularly but mostly plain rice and noodles. So while she came in at an amazing 40th percentile for height (a lot of kids are barely on the growth chart, if at all), her weight was ranked as less than the 5th percentile.

The pediatrician recommended adding in as many healthy fats as possible to her diet. Okay...

Ava eats like a bird.

She likes food...sort of. She likes rice, noodles, hard boiled eggs, mandarin oranges, French fries, dumplings, and chips. But she doesn't eat a whole lot of any of them...except for maybe the eggs. And google shocked me that the whites (she rarely eats the yolks) only have 17 calories each. No wonder she eats them 4 at a time.

So I started adding a little olive oil, coconut oil, or butter to her usual foods. It still didn't seem like enough.

We tried peanut butter, but after gooping up her mouth, she now passes. Adam is allergic anyway.

We tried nutella. And our little bird LOVES nutella. We must be related.

Another hit is the broth-like soup that comes with entrees at our favorite Chinese restaurant. She loves it! And fortunately for me, she also likes my homemade fried rice. 

Our fingers are crossed that all of our efforts will be rewarded at Ava's next weight check in two weeks. 

Mommy Guilt

This has been one of the hardest weeks that I can remember (it's possible that I blocked out some that were worse, but who knows).

Not only did we have the expected ups and downs with Ava, but Jacob was sick and home from school all week. Sick may be too trivial of a term... He was miserable with a horrible case of hand, foot, and mouth. His mouth was so blistered that he did not eat for a couple of days, and I was thankful for the small amounts of liquids he would drink. 

I had to keep reminding myself that he was miserable because after hours of whining and crying and screaming, I was tempted to post a Craigslist ad for "free child to good home."

I tried my best. Truly, I did. But I kept failing him, Adam, and Ava. For when Jacob would scream and cling to me, Ava would become upset and need comforting. And how do you comfort two children who want their mommy to make it all better?

You don't. 

Well, I didn't. One child would inevitably lay in the floor screaming while I tried to tend to the other before begging Jacob to Please Stop Whining and Screaming at Mommy!!!

And while I was rushing around trying to keep everyone alive and somewhat sane, I missed lunch day for moms at Adam's school and his last tee ball game of the season. 

Last night, Ava could/would not sleep. She had a happy day, but she fought sleep until close to 11pm and even then the sleep was fitful. 

Today, Jacob's blisters were much better and he was able to eat more than he had eaten all week. Ava spent lots of time outside and splashing in the kiddie pool. Adam had some one-on-one time with dad, and I...I took a nap. 

It is 9 pm and Todd is trying to get Ava to sleep. The house is quiet and calm. I feel bad for all the times I shouted at Jacob this week. He was sick and ordinarily I would have cuddled with him all week... But Ava needed me too. No one tells you how to navigate these obstacles in the adoption books. And then Todd told me this evening that I was a lot more patient with Jacob than he would have been. 

Maybe I didn't completely fail? It sure feels that way. 

"Before I got married I had six theories about raising children; now, I have six children and no theories."

-John Wilmot

Want some cheese with that wǒ ài nǐ?

In Mandarin, "I love you" is "wǒ ài nǐ." You run the words together quickly, "wuh-eye-knee."

Jacob has been running a fever off and on the past few days. He has needed lots of extra hugs, kisses, and I love you's. This morning, he also needed a "lecture" (how much can you really lecture a 2 year old?) on how whining will not get him what he wants no matter how bad he feels. Mommy had met and surpassed her tolerance for whine by 9 am this morning.

In the midst of my tirade of, "no more whining. Please stop being so whiny," Ava runs over with a big grin, and proclaims: "wǒ ài nǐ!" 

What is this? Is my daughter randomly and excitedly telling me that she loves me?!?!?!

No... bubble burst. 

She thinks I am telling Jacob that I love him over and over again (in an irritated and exhausted voice),  so she wanted to join in the fun of me whining "no more whining".

Now I need a synonym for whiny. Somehow thesaurus.com's suggestion of "obnoxious" doesn't seem to carry the same connotation. And while gripe and moan are pretty good synonyms for whine, they lack the wuh-eye-knee noise that sounds like an actual whine. Maybe I'm pronouncing them wrong. Maybe "stop being so gruh-eye-pee" would get the point across.

I guess I should google it first, though. It might mean "scream at the top of your lungs" in Mandarin.

Be Still

The past week has passed by in a blur... Jet lag, sickness, birthdays, tee ball games, doctor visits and laundry. Lots and lots of laundry. 

My biggest challenge since returning home was finding the time to rest. My exhaustion left me with a nasty cold and very little energy. A long afternoon nap gave my immune system the boost it needed, and I feel so much better. Sometimes, a person just needs to be still. 

Ava still has fitful nights where she rocks and flails in her sleep. For the first several nights home, I had made up a "bed" for her on the floor so that she couldn't hurt herself. 

We finally decided to bring her toddler bed into our room to see how she would do. She gladly crawled onto the mattress but rocked incessantly and wildly. I sat watching from the floor trying to decide if I should intervene or let her soothe herself a little longer. So I prayed. I prayed that I would know what to do. 

I started rocking myself a little... Unsure of whether to get up or stay sitting. Without thinking, I reached out and stroked her head... "Be still" I whispered. She relaxed. 

And I smiled. "Be still and know that I am God. " Psalm 46:10. And then I chuckled. Be still and know that I am MOM. 

While she wasn't without fitful moments that night, she only fell out of bed twice. Not bad considering how fitful she can be. 

Ava is much more peaceful during her naps. Maybe it's our, I mean, Todd's snoring that disturbs her in the night. 

When we were in China, I had my first moment of "I am an adult." I've never felt like an adult...just a kid playing dress up. But I felt it, finally. On Mother's Day, it finally dawned on me that I have THREE children. I am supposed to keep three little people alive and help mold them into responsible citizens of the world. How did that happen? I just became an adult a few days ago?!?

And then Ava hands me a booger and Jacob asks to "go ride boat, peas." 

Be still my heart. 

Happy birthday!

Happy third birthday, little munchkin! We are so glad to have you home to celebrate. 

Jacob ate a chunk of candle. 

Ava got some new wheels from Mimi and papa. 

City Mouse Country Mouse

Ava and Jacob clicked right away. They love to chase each other and squeal. They feed each other, fight over toys, and chastise each other for misbehaving. 

Jacob is one of those kids who only wants what everyone else has... He was like that before with Adam, but it is even worse with Ava. If she has a purse, he needs a purse. If she wants a bowl of rice, he wants a bowl of rice. It's funny that he draws the line at sitting on the potty. 

Jacob and Ava both love to be outside. The other day he tried to teach her the joys of throwing rocks into the lake. I don't think she enjoyed it quite as much as he did. 

Ava did enjoy running through the sprinkler with the boys. 

The kids are all big fans of the playground (no surprise here). 

And after all the fighting, the stealing of toys, and the whining, Jacob and Ava are still best buds.