What Do I Say?

I just finished one of the most difficult things that I do in a year's time: writing a letter to Yikealo's birthmom. What can I possibly say to her that can really let her know how wonderfully he is doing? Do the tidbits that we share of his life in America actually have any meaning for her? Will she understand what it means when I tell her that he is very gifted athletically or that he is learning to read? Am I rubbing salt into an open wound when I tell her the little ways that he blesses our lives every day, or is it somehow healing to know that he is cared for beyond measure? What would I want to know if I were in her shoes? What will she think of the picture that Yikealo drew for her: three colorful, smiling stick figures standing beside a crudely drawn house, surrounded by sunshine and flowers? The littlest stick figure is holding a lizard on his shoulders - not that she'll have any idea what those particular purple scribbles mean. Will someone tell her that the strange markings sloping down the middle of the page are the English letters of Yikealo's name - scrawled by his little hand?  What about all of the photos that I send? Is it too painful to look at all of the beautiful pictures of his little beaming face, or do her hungry eyes stare at them for long minutes - trying to catalog all of the changes since she last saw him?

 

Then there are just the logistics of the whole situation. Do the letters and photos actually ever reach her hands? Are they translated into her language, and if so, how many meanings were lost in the translation? Does she know anyone who can read it to her? So many hard questions...and I find myself in tears once again: so grateful to her for giving Yikealo life, so changed by her pain and her loss, so prayerful that God will comfort her as only He can.

"Your pain has changed me, your dream inspires, your face a memory, your hope a fire. Your courage asks me what I am made of and what I know of love."   (Sara Groves - I Saw What I Saw)

Guess Who's Five?!

Well, my little guy turned 5 today. He has been so excited to have another birthday, and he informed several girls in church today that they were allowed to give him birthday kisses. I think we're going to have to work on the flirting situation, don't you?

We actually had our own little celebration last weekend when the three of us spent Sunday and Monday at Great Wolf Lodge in Sandusky. Yikealo doesn't need more "stuff", so we thought it would be a great opportunity to spend some quality time together with him. He LOVES to play in the water, so we figured a water park was a good choice of venues. We had told him about it several weeks ago, and he was looking so forward to our time at "Big Fat Wolf" as he called it! We did have a fabulous time, although I will say there's nothing like constantly chasing around a VERY active, VERY fearless, FULL of energy little boy for two days to make you feel OLD!! Climbing over and over to the very top of the building to ride the big slides was definitely more tiring for the parents than for the boy, (pant, pant, pant, gasp, gasp) although it was definitely worth it to hear his squeals of delight while flying around corners in the double tube on the way back down!

 

 

 

This afternoon after church, we had a little birthday party at Jim and Karen's, where we sort of horned in on  Uncle Jim's 50th birthday celebration. (Thanks for sharing, Jim!) Here's a picture of the two birthday boys together:

 

And finally, a couple of Yikealo quotes from the last week:

• "Mom, this crayon needs a haircut!" (handing me a crayon that needed some paper torn from the end.)
• (while brandishing a foam sword at me) "I am a bad guy, for heaven's sake! Give me your computer and all of your money!"
• the "lyrics" to a lovely new song that he sang for David and me: "You are my lunchbox, and you are a cookie. If I eat you, then you will be in my stomach. If you are in my stomach, then your dreams will not come true!" (Isn't that truly beautiful? Now imagine it being sung to an extremely random, meandering "tune.")
• I happened to be....ummm....a bit cranky yesterday morning. Yikealo stage whispered in David's ear, "Don't talk to Mama right now. She is getting very nervous, and she might start to yell at you." Nothing like having your bad attitude called out by the little one!

New Milestones and a Few Yikealo-isms

First of all, before I forget again, our numbers for May were: #53 for a girl and #42 for a boy... which means that we've moved 37 spaces on the girl's list and 21 spaces for a boy since we joined the waitlist in November.

 

In other news, we've hit some new parenting milestones this month. Last night was Yikealo's pre-school program, and as of Friday, he'll be officially finished with his first year of "school." He loves to learn and has really enjoyed making new friends at pre-school. Hopefully, some of these friendships can last for a lifetime. After all, one of my favorite people in the world became my friend when we were both in the 4-year old Sunday school class together (yes, Lori, I mean you!)

 

We have also completed his enrollment for Kindergarten next fall. Oh, how I have agonized over this decision: "He will be turning 5 in June - should I start school yet or wait another year? Should I send him to public school or homeschool?" It seems like the current trend is to hold boys back until they are six, but Yikealo is already learning to read, and there's always that niggling reminder that we don't know how old he really is. What if we are able to meet his birthmom when we travel to Ethiopia and we learn that she DOES know how old he is, and he is truly a year older than we've decided? AARRGGHHH!!! (Why do I obsess about these things anyway?) After doing some research and worrying and praying, we've finally made the decision to enroll him in a home-based online public school for next year. So, I will become a "teacher" of sorts this fall, and I'm actually very excited about it. David has felt very strongly about wanting to homeschool for quite some time, and I'm ready to try it.

 

Which brings me to yet another milestone. My little guy lost his first tooth last night. It has been loosening up over the last several months, and for the last few weeks, he has been constantly wiggling it. David and I are both ridiculously squeamish about loose teeth, we have discovered, much to the delight of Mr. Y. He thinks it's great fun to say, "Hey Mom, look at this!" while reaching into his mouth and moving his tooth all over creation, and then giggling away as I shudder in revulsion. Thankfully, my mom came to visit yesterday for the pre-school program, so the boy had an ally in getting rid of the unwanted tooth. (Grammy is not at all phased by little things like loose teeth...how well I remember her slightly sadistic glee in yanking loose teeth out when we were little!) Yikealo wasn't phased either. That tooth came right out, and he thought that all of the blood was really cool. We think that we may have a doctor in training here - he is fascinated by blood and shots and all things medical.

 

And, last but not least, a few recent Yikealo-isms for your entertainment:

• (while walking toward me with a disgruntled look on his face) "Mom, I was running, and I hit myself in the head with the wall."
• (while I was tickling him) "Mom, do you want to stand in the corner? If so, just keep it up!" (I think maybe he's heard this a few times...)
• "Daddy's kisses and Lori's kisses smell like flowers, so I will not wipe theirs off, but yours smell like lightbulbs, so I can wipe those ones off!" (I'm not sure what lightbulbs smell like, but hey, apparently any excuse will work for this kid to wipe off my kisses.)
• "Mom, this porcupine is DEE-licious!" (while we were eating shredded pork sandwiches.)
• "Stop up-tating me!" (said whenever we imitate something that he has said.)
• "Mom, I'm trying to get comfy, but I cannot, because my bed is too bony. Can you please take me to your bed?" (He'll try anything for a chance to sleep with us.)
• a few weeks ago, he begged to go with David on a quick errand to the grocery store. David acquiesced, on the condition that Mr. Y was not to beg for ANYTHING while there. Yikealo agreed readily, of course. Moments after entering the store, Y stopped beside a display of vanilla wafers (one of his favorites) and said, "Hey, Dad..." David shot him a warning look and said, "Yikealo, you promised not to beg for anything," to which Y quickly replied, "I'm not asking for them for me! I just thought that maybe YOU would like to buy them, since YOU really like these!" Ummm...yeah....can you say "manipulative"??
• Several days ago, after listening for quite some time to him barrel around the house beating on the metal lid to his Tinker-Toy box with one of the plastic sticks, I finally lost my temper and said that he was driving me insane, and if he didn't find something quieter to do there would be trouble. A little later, he decided to share a new song with me. It is sung to the tune of "The More We Get Together" and it goes like this:  "Sometimes Mama is a grump-grouch, a grump-grouch, a grump-grouch. Sometimes Mama is a grump-grouch with her little boy."  As I'm sure that you can imagine, his composing talent didn't do much to improve the mood of his mother...on second thought, maybe it did, because it IS making me laugh now! Anyway, this weekend, while reading through some old Calvin and Hobbes comic books, I discovered a strip where Calvin is stomping through the house beating on a pan with a spoon. His mother finally loses control and shouts, "Will you stop that awful racket? You're driving me crazy!" The final panel shows Calvin in front of his check-marked calendar triumphantly saying, "And a check mark for Tuesday!"  David has been calling Yikealo "Calvin" ever since...

 

Daddy's Boy

Last night I finished up Yikealo's 2-year post adoption report. It needs to arrive to the Ethiopian government by the anniversary of the date that we took custody of our son - June 29th, 2009. In order for it to make it overseas in time, it has to be to our agency by May 29th. We had three reports due in the first year of having him home, but all of these were written by our social worker, so this was my first effort. From now on, these reports are due once a year until he reaches the age of 18, so I'm sure that I will become quite adept at doing them! It is exciting to me that Ethiopia cares so much about the welfare of their children. Most other countries only require reports to be completed for the first year or so.

Anyway, we needed to provide detailed information on how he is doing physically and developmentally, give an example of his daily schedule, and discuss anything pertinent to his life and health: how he sleeps, how he eats, how he interacts with others...you get the point. The final questions were about what we see as his most difficult  challenge and his greatest joy since adoption. It took me a little while to come up with the answers, because we have had very few challenges and everything is exciting to Yikealo, but I think I finally arrived at the truth. Yikealo's greatest challenge was probably learning that we were not going to leave him. He has a strong memory of his birth mom leaving him with strangers and not returning for him, and new situations have sometimes brought those fearful memories to the surface. Today, though, he seems to be very secure in our love for him. Several times a day we have a variation of the following conversation:

Me: "Hey, Yikealo, guess what?"
Y: "You love me!"
Me: "I sure do! How did you know that?"
Y: "Because I am your little boy!"
Me: "How did I get so lucky to have YOU for my little boy?"
Y: "Because God told you to get me, because He knew that I needed a Mom and a Dad!"

Which brings me to his greatest joy: his beloved Daddy. Yikealo has told us that he had a "first Mom" before me, but that David is his "first Dad." He loves having a father figure in his life, and he will try to imitate EVERYTHING that David does, from the things he says, to the way he dresses, to the way he folds his toilet paper - (I'm not kidding!) Mr. Y delights in anything that will make him "just like my Dad!" They play chess and an ancient computer game from David's childhood called "Final Fantasy", they both have to use a shoehorn to put on their good shoes, they both eat hotdogs with only mustard (because "only girls like ketchup") and they both have to have a stack of interesting books or magazines in the bathroom - their "places" marked with a sheet of toilet paper (never mind the fact that Yikealo can't read yet.)

A few weeks ago, David was getting dressed for work, and happened to put on a t-shirt that Yikealo has also. Yikealo was SO excited, and immediately tried to copy David's outfit as closely as possible.

A few days later, Yikealo insisted on buying a pair of slippers with his money - because "my Dad always wears slippers!" The next morning when David left for work, I found Mr. Y's new footwear exactly where David always leaves his slippers - on the rug in front of David's closet.

And then there is the way that they both run their fingers through their hair, obsessively pat down their cereal before pouring milk into the bowl, and make the same ridiculous faces...I mean, honestly, what can you really say about this?

In short, if David does it, you can be certain that Yikealo will imitate him. All silliness aside, son, I think that you've decided on a great role-model, and it gives me great joy to watch you being "just like" your Daddy!

This Morning's Conversation...

As I was getting ready for work this morning, Malia was proudly showing Yikealo her older siblings' elementary school yearbook in the family room. (Don't ask me why she wanted to bring that along with her this week?!) Anyway, as I listened in on their conversation, I heard the following:

Mimi: "Hey, Yikealo, do you want to see a black boy?"
Y: (in a slightly awe-struck and very excited tone) "Yeah!"
...long pause...
Mimi: "Look. There he is."
Y: (sounding rather disgusted) "He is NOT black. He's brown, just like me."
Mimi: "Well, that's what I meant."
Me: "Hey, Yikealo, sometimes when people have a little bit darker brown skin like yours, they're called black. But that's not really the right name for the color of your skin, is it?"
Y: "No, because I'm brown."
Mimi: "Well, sometimes I get black and brown mixed up, because they're almost the same."
Y: "They are not! And besides, white is the opposite of black, and people can't be opposites!" (Not sure what this had to do with anything!)
Me: "Well, we are certainly a lot more alike than we are different, aren't we? Because really, we're all just different shades of brown, right?"
Y: "Right! You and Mimi are really light brown, and I am a little bit darker brown."

Testing...123...Testing...

THIS IS A TEST OF THE EMERGENCY CHILD-CARE SYSTEM...DO NOT PANIC...IT IS ONLY A TEST...

So, we are the "parents" of two children for the next week or so. We are keeping my niece Malia while her parents (Chris and Erica) are off on a cruise to the Mexican Riviera. (They're going for Chris's business, so don't get too envious!) Anyway, Malia and Yikealo are just 4 days apart in age, they are both VERY used to getting their own way, and they can both be a bit bossy. Thankfully, they get along pretty well most of the time. This ought to give us a pretty good taste of what parenting 2 might be like though, and we've even got the elements of loneliness and grieving for missed parents in place here. I'm not sure that Miss Mimi has ever been away from all three of her siblings and her parents for this long before, and I know we're going to have some rocky moments from time to time!

Let's take a look at bedtime last night, for example: We had gone out to eat with Chris and Erica before going our separate ways, and we got home with the kiddos around 7:15. Neither child had napped during the day, so it was bedtime. We got the pajamas on, the teeth brushed, read the Bible story, sang a song, said prayers and memory verses, and then settled them in at opposite ends of Yikealo's twin bed. They were both beaming happily as we kissed them good night and left the room.

Now, let me preface this next part by saying that Yikealo NEVER gets out of bed once he's in. Once in a great while, he might get up to go potty, but then he goes straight back to bed. Yeah, I know he's unusual, but my point is, that's what we're used to around here, okay? Having stayed overnight at Chris and Erica's house numerous times, let's just say that I know it's a different story there...got the picture? Less than three minutes after we left the room last night, I heard their bedroom door creak open and both kids came out looking up at me expectantly.

Y: "Mom, Mimi can't go to sleep."
Me: "That's ridiculous. You haven't been back there for even 5 minutes yet - that's not enough time to try properly, okay? Sometimes it takes a little longer to fall asleep. Let's go back to bed and try a little harder."

I tucked them back in, kissed them good night, handed them each their respective stuffed animals or dolls, and left the room again.

20 minutes later: CREEAKK...the door opened again...and Malia emerged.
Mimi: "Risa, I'm scared."
Me: "Why are you scared?"
Mimi: (starting to cry as she heads back to Yikealo's room) "I want my Mommy!"
Me: "Mimi, I'm sorry, but your Mom and Dad are going to be gone for a week. I know that you miss them, and that's okay, but you're going to be fine here. You're staying in a nice, safe house with an aunt and uncle and cousin who love you. We are right here if you need us, and you're going to be fine. What did your Mommy say that you were supposed to do if you got scared?"
Mimi: "Pray to Jesus."
Me: "That's right, because He can make you feel better. Now, do you want me to rock you for a little bit?"
Mimi: "Yeah." (said in a shaky, sobbing little breath.)
Yikealo: "I'm a big boy. I don't need to be rocked."
Me: "Well, Mimi is staying in a new place and she misses her family, okay? Now, lay down and go to sleep."

I carried her to the rocking chair in the living room, snuggled her up in a blanket, and she was out sound in less than 5 minutes. I carefully carried her back to Yikealo's room, put her down on the bed and tucked her back in. Yikealo immediately sat up with a hopeful look on his face:

Y: "Mom, could you please rock me too?"
Me: (big sigh) "Sure."
David: (snickering) "I'll stay in here with Mimi in case she wakes up again."
I carry Yikealo to the rocking chair.
Y: "Mom, you have to rock me as long as you rocked Mimi, okay?"
Me: "Yes, I will, but that wasn't very long at all, because she went right to sleep. Now you try to do the same."

A few minutes later, I carried a "sleeping" boy (who was snoring in a very fake manner with a little smirk on his face) back to the bedroom. I put him down on the bed, and he popped up immediately, wanting a stuffed animal. His talking woke up Malia, who blinked up blearily from the other end of the bed. I tucked them both in yet again, and kissed them yet again, and walked out keeping my fingers crossed.

25 minutes later: CREEAKK...the door opened and Malia emerged...again...
Mimi: (with extremely sleepy eyes) "Risa, it's too light for me to get to sleep."
Me: (with a smidgen less patience in my voice) "Malia, that doesn't make any sense. It's almost dark outside, and about a half hour ago you were sound asleep when it was much lighter out. You are extremely tired, and you need to go to sleep."
Mimi: (sobbing in earnest now) "I WANT MY MOMMY!!!"
Me: "Let's go blow your nose. Mimi, did you pray to Jesus like your Mommy told you to?"
Mimi: "Yeessss!" (sniffle, sob, snort)
Me: "Okay, do you believe that Jesus will keep you safe if you ask Him?"
Mimi: "Yeessss!"
Me: "Well, then you need to trust Him, alright? If you ask Him to watch over you, then He's going to. I already heard you pray for your Mommy and Daddy tonight...now I want to hear you pray for yourself too."
Mimi: "Jesus, pl..pl...please k..k...keep me s..safe and help m...m...me n...n...not to be sc...sc...scared."
Me: "Now you've got to believe that. Would it help if you slept right beside Yikealo?"
Mimi: "Yeessss!"
Me: (tucking them in again) "You two just snuggle up together and go right to sleep, okay? If you keep waking each other up, we're going to have to put you in separate beds until you're sleeping."
Mimi: "NNOOOO!!!"
Me: "Well, then go to sleep. And Mimi, I think this is really very good for you, because when you get your new little brother or sister from Ethiopia, this is how they are going to be feeling all the time, except it will be even worse. They aren't going to really know you yet, they won't understand the language that you're speaking, and they're not going to understand what happened to their family. They're going to be so scared, and now you're going to be able to understand just a tiny bit of what they're going to feel like, okay?"
Mimi: (with very wide eyes) "Okay."
Yikealo: "I'm trying to go to sleep, but she keeps waking me up."
Me: "Well, you've woken her up too. Now both of you lay very quietly and try very hard not to wake each other up again."

25 minutes later: all was finally quiet. I took a chance and peeked in...SUCCESS!! They were both sound asleep. Now, they were up at 6:10 this morning, after falling asleep around 9:00 last night, so I think that naps are definitely in our future today, but we made it through night #1. Eight more to go!

On a quick note, our April numbers were: #58 for a girl and #44 for a boy. There has only been one referral that we know of during the whole month of April, so we probably have a bit of a wait yet before we have two children for real!

Why?

I've often wondered why God created mankind. In conversation with other Christians I've discovered this to be a common question: why'd He do it?

The question stretches our understanding of God: if God is omnipotent, then surely he knew what would happen to Jesus as a result of making mankind. God can see the future, so he must have known the price... this didn't catch Him by surprise did it?

Whenever I've asked someone this question, the immediate answer was always something like: "well, God loves you and wants to spend eternity with you, and this was the only way". But this always seemed 'weak' to me. Didn't God love Jesus too? Wasn't there some other way?

I was running through these thoughts one day while mowing the yard and started praying; I asked God for insight into this question. While God is not always immediate when He answers my prayers, the answer did come immediately on this day. I won't say that I went into a trance, but a story flashed across my consciousness as if I were watching a movie:

I was a dad on a business trip to the west coast (we live in the Eastern time zone). I had several children: an older biological son and several adopted children much younger. It was late at night. My cell phone rang and my oldest son shouted in a panicked voice: "Dad, I just got home and the house in on fire! What should I do?"

What should I tell my son? I cannot rescue the other children myself. I love my oldest son. I love all my children. Equally. I do the only thing I can: "Son, you need to rescue your siblings; you're the only one who can."

So, was this a message from God or the aimless wanderings of a mind not fully occupied by mowing the yard? I believe the former. Consider the evidence: God did indeed send His oldest, only begotten son to die for his adopted children. That's really it. Can you imagine this act if God loved us less than our big Brother?

This realization led me to further considerations: Does adoption really count? I've always considered myself as Child of God second class as compared to Jesus, but this contradicts my personal experience as a father: I can say unequivocally that yes, adoption does count.

Further, consider the scripture. Biblical inheritance is passed from father to son. Could Jesus be of the lineage of David, a "son of David" as Bartimaeus calls him, if not for His adoption by Joseph? The entirety of God's promise to Abraham and the Davidic lineage falls apart if adoption doesn't count.(Note that this point was recently driven home to me by Russell Moore in his book Adopted for Life).

I can only draw one conclusion from all this: the answer to my question is, in fact, as simple as originally communicated to me: 'because God loves us'.

However, I would take this one step farther: because God loves all his children equally.

Do you believe that? That God loves you as he loves Jesus?

If you don't, then ask yourself: why does God call us his children? Why is Christ called the son of David? And, finally, why'd he create us to start with?