Fun in the Sun :: a post with too many pictures

Grandmama (my mother) gave Asher a teeny tiny pool of his very own. The day he received it, he didn't really care much for it and would much rather spend all his time traipsing around Pop's big yard of wonderment. I, too, spent much time in that yard when I was young and it is full of wonderment.

We brought the pool home (it's funny to look in your rearview and see a giant giraffe staring at you in rush hour traffic) and set it up on the back porch. Most mornings Asher wakes up, has a fresh diaper and heads to the kitchen for some oatmeal and spoon practice. This generally means a giant mess, which lead to the post-breakfast pool dip. He just play out back in his diaper, rotating from his pool to the dog's bowl. Don't worry, I clean both the pool and the dog's water bowl every day so it's fresh water. Someone (Hi Shara!) kindly pointed out that there were no recent pictures of Asher, so here you go. Enjoy him and all the cuteness he has to offer. Oh, and you're welcome. Oh, and by the way, there are like fourtyseventhousand pictures. You're very welcome. I'll try to keep my comments to a minimum.

See his hand? That's from the bar-be-que pit. 

We wave bye bye to all airplanes. So if you fly over us, know we're waving. 

This is the day he figured out he didn't need any help to go up or down this little step. 

Each up and each down was followed with either "yay!" or "ta dahhhhhhhh" from Asher.

Please tell me you can see the mischief all over this face...

We keep him swimming in those regular diapers ... the weight slows him down just a tad...

And a very very very happy birthday to Daddy today! 

Babying My Baby

It has occurred to me lately, on a nearly daily basis, that my little baby is growing up. He is by no means grown, but he is still much much more than he was only a year ago when we met. It's funny, because Justin and I were apparently both thinking about this yesterday.

Justin called, as usual, on his way home and I did not answer, also as usual. Sometimes I can't get to the phone fast enough, or last night it was still on silent from church, or I'm in the middle of changing a diaper or cleaning up from dinner or whatever the current mess situation. Last night was different though.

I'm not sure why or how, but I stopped rocking Asher before bed. It must have been when he stopped taking a night-time bottle. Ick, just reading that sentence makes me feel like a poor mother. We've always bragged on how easily he goes to bed at night. We just plop him in his bed, hand him his sleeping buddies, turn out the light and leave. So sometime in there the easy became the norm and I find myself missing all those opportunities to rock him and snuggle him and pray over him and be his mommy just a little bit longer. Last night before putting him to bed we sat in our chair and  I caressed his curls and rubbed his back. I prayed for more moments like that.

Justin can't wait for him to get bigger. He wants to "do stuff" with him and teach him things and talk with him. I want him to grow up, too. I dream of my baby growing into a strong man of faith and action. A man with his own family and ministry. But if it's alright, I'd like him to be a baby for just a little while longer.

Asher vs. Oatmeal -- Round 4

We interrupt your previously scheduled posts to bring you this super cute picture where Asher claims his victory over the oatmeal ... spoon or no spoon.

Ethiopia posts returning soon!

one year ago today - 3

I'm back! Sorry for the delay. Where were we? Oh yes. Sitting in a van on the side of the road. I hope I've made it clear just how excited Justin was by these prospects. We'd been alone at the airport and had to wait about an hour for someone to come and rescue us. We rode -- sans seatbelts -- along the dirt roads of crowded Addis, and then our vehicle quit working right past the city dump. In life, there are situations in which you can either laugh or cry. This was one of them. I chose to laugh. Actually, it's inherent in my genetic makeup. I laugh at everything from break downs in foreign countries to wedding proposals (happy anniversary, honey!) to everything else. I save the crying for movies. I can't help it.

After a short while, our driver happily returned, filled up our gas tank, and continued the drive to our hotel. When we reached our hotel, the staff quickly carried everything up to our room on the third floor. I'd like to point out that it's really the FIFTH floor. In 8000 feet elevation. I'm just saying. We spoke with Almaz on the phone who was so glad we finally made it to Addis and the hotel. She kept apologizing for everything and saying she'd make everything better when we met our son. All I wanted was a shower in our space craft futuristic shower. It had the potential to be awesome or crazy. When I saw the sign to not flush any toilet paper, I decided it was probably just going to be crazy. We did remember to plug in the water heater for that one. I showered and Justin changed clothes and we unpacked a bit and settled in. Almaz called again and said she was down stairs ready to take us to Hannah's Hope. WHAT?! I mean, I secretly hoped that's what she meant when she said earlier that she'd make everything better, but I had chalked it up to the difference in language and nobody ever gets to go early. In fact, when we talked with our case worker at AGCI about traveling early, she specifically said that even if we were there early, we would not be allowed to go to Hannah's Hope. But there was Almaz, patiently and apologetically escorting us up that rocky path.

And there it was. There we were.  I remember telling Justin that I felt like such a cheater because we were breaking all the rules! He had absolutely no problem breaking those rules and walking right through that big gate. I was so excited I could hardly contain myself. I might have hopped or skipped instead of walking, I'm not sure. Perhaps I was even floating or flying. I was in such shock and disbelief. 

I'd like to interrupt the story at this point (because I'm mean like that) to tell you where we were and what we knew about our baby. We received our referral at the end of January, which is when the lockdown started about taking pictures of kids that did not belong to you. We actually knew a family who traveled the morning after we received our referral and they were not allowed to take any pictures or see him or anything. We went months without hearing anything. He was only three weeks at referral so they kept him in the little baby room, where most people were not permitted. We knew he was getting lots of love and care, but it was killing me to have a picture of a one week old baby who I just knew was growing and getting bigger and bigger by the minute. 

One of the AGCI case workers traveled in March (6 weeks post referral) and sent us back three pictures. But he wasn't looking at the camera in any of them. I was so disappointed. Another six weeks passed before another family even saw him. She just happened to send me a picture of her son and I could see mine in the back corner of the blanket. My how he'd changed!!! Then, our dear friends The Hulls, whom we'd raced in the paperwork phase, traveled only two weeks before us and finally, I received photos and info on his little personality. This is the May baby they experienced: 

I'm not sure if I can ever tell the Hulls how much we TRULY APPRECIATED the time they spent with our son, kissing on him and taking pictures of him and whispering things of his family -- those moments they shared with him were translated back to us in word and picture and prepared us more for the moment of meeting our son than anything else. If you have the opportunity to meet and spend time with the children of other adoptive parents, please make the most of it. If you've been there you know, and if you're waiting for your turn, prepare your hearts for some big blessings. Ok, enough of that. Back to the story. We walked into Hannah's Hope, up the stairs and into a room on the far right. With pink walls and butterflies. All the Special Mothers smiled at us and one reached out her arms and placed a baby into Justin's hands while I clicked away with our camera. I wasn't even upset that he got him first. 

Almaz did finally snap me out of my daze and suggested I give the camera to someone else so I could hold him. Silly me. I'd been preparing for this moment for years and everything I'd prepared for just left me. I mean ... look at him! 

Almaz escorted us downstairs to a quiet room with a sofa. We knew we only had a few minutes before his bottle and naptime, but bygolly, we were going to make the most of it. We spent the whole time just trying to get him to smile. And kissing him. And making him smile again. And more kisses. And hugs. And the necessary finger and toe counting.  Immediately I knew we were hooked. 

I remember thinking, "I want to hold him now!" and also, "Share with Justin. That's his baby, too." It was hard. I loved seeing the love of my life holding our son and laughing and playing ... but I wanted to hold our son and laugh and play, too. It was so hard!! But I did good. Just so you know. : )

We took turns feeding him and rocking him, and eventually he drifted off to sleep. We laid him back in his crib and looked at him as if we had to fill up our eyes and our minds and our hearts with that one glance. 

And while I can't prove it, I'm pretty sure that we both just floated back to our hotel. 

more tomorrow

one year ago today - 2

Before we left for Addis, I'd cleaned out the fridge, purchased a bunch of stuff to last the week we were gone so we wouldn't have to run to the store, checked our flight info about a dozen times, packed and repacked, double checked with several families who'd just returned, and stared at my son's picture over and over again. 

We'd had some issues getting a flight. We didn't pass our first court date and then all of a sudden we were cleared and scheduled to fly. We wanted to fly Emirates because we could go direct from our local airport to Dubai, spend the night and fly a quick three hour jaunt to Addis. For some reason, we were having the hardest time confirming our travel, through both AGCI and the airline. We really thought we were going to be there several days early or that we'd hang in Dubai for a while. We actually have some friends who are there doing m.ssions work, and we figured it would be a great time to fellowship and encourage one another. Then we realized they were flying back stateside the same time we were flying to Dubai. At what felt like the last minute, we were able to fly out on Thursday (US) and arrive on Saturday (AA).  Things were working out. 

The night before we left, we ordered some takeout and settled in for our last night in our home as just the two of us. I'm sure we watched a movie. Or repacked a suitcase. Or both. As we fought over the last fortune cookie, we discovered a sweet little message meant just for us -- that would be true both literally and figuratively. : )

When it was finally time to leave, Justin's mom (who had recently moved to our 'hood) picked us up, watched us load all our bags, and drove us to the airport. I remember lots of small talk and it seemed odd to me that we were acting like it was just any other day.

We unloaded everything onto our luggage cart and posed for a quick picture. I'm not sure why all our luggage isn't in the picture. We were so blessed by the young adult group at church that it took us, and two other families to carry all the donations. We managed to pack all our stuff plus baby stuff and a few more donations into one smaller bag. I know that everyone said to spread your stuff out, but I packed up the donations weeks early because they were taking over my house and I didn't want to get to Hannah's Hope and have to sift through our undies to get to the last package of diapers. I just went on blind faith that all our luggage would arrive with us and that if it didn't, we'd manage somehow.

The flight to Dubai from Houston is about 16.5 hours ... in the air. That doesn't count the hours it was delayed that we sat in the terminal, just a few minutes from the comfort of family (and their oversized couches) or the time on the tarmac, or the hour it took for our plane to be taxied to some plane graveyard in Dubai where we deplaned. Emirates was by far the most comfortable international flight I'd ever been on. Plus they have like one million movies you can watch and even regular ol' TV. Justin had never traveled internationally before and I tried to prep him as much as I could... but there's really only so much you can do. I managed to get some sleep on the plane, and my hubband who can generally sleep anywhere, anytime, did not. We landed in Dubai sometime in the evening but by the time we walked the seventyelevenmillion miles to our hotel bus (on the opposite side of Dubai, apparently) it was around nine so we headed to our room and figured we'd just shower and hit the sack.

By this time, I'd already begun to regulate my schedule to Addis time. Justin did not. This will come back to bite him throughout the trip. We don't look too bad for eighteen + hours on a plane, huh? We both slept through the night and woke up early the next morning to meet our bus back to the airport (and trek through the airport) at 6am Dubai time.  We got on the plane, we flew, we landed in Ethiopia. Yay! We made it!!!

This is the view out the front of the Addis Ababa International Airport. Fancy. So, we arrived, and I'd taken note of everyone's suggestions so we went straight to the immigration line as fast as I could drag Justin. We were about the fifth and sixth person in line. They do everything by hand. There are computers though. They are sitting on the ground behind the little desks where the guys sit and handwrite everything. Somehow Justin and I were separated and about ten people went between us because you go to one desk and pay your money and then you get out of the way and another desk writes your receipt. Well, when they kept passing the receipts, they were stacked on top of each other and Justin's was apparently at the very bottom. When we got out of the closet where all this important paperwork takes place, we were so glad to see our luggage all waiting for us -- and that all the other silly people who got their luggage first were now standing in a super long line that we were no longer part of. And, did I mention, HALLELUJAH that all our luggage made it? Excellent.

My notes said next to just follow the crowd into the next space ... which is the front of the airport where you should be met with someone who will have a sign for you to take you to AGCI. This is where the fun really started. There was no such person. For those of you who have the awesome privilege of knowing my dear, sweet hubband, you know how much fun this really was. Let me assure the rest of you that this is Justin's deepest hope and dream: to travel to a third world country, not speak the language, have no mode of transportation, no idea where you're going, and no currency. And a ton of luggage. And a wife who thinks this is hilarious. Yep. He was thrilled. So I did what I do in these types of situations. I just walked off. Left my poor hubband standing there in the airport with all our luggage while I went and talked to random people. I met another adoptive family who was using a different agency and their driver had no idea where AGCI was. Or Hannah's Hope. Or had even heard of it. See, one of the coolest things about Addis is that there are no street names. Or real addresses. It's super fun.  A baggage handler hung around us a lot and I asked to use his phone to call Almaz, the director in Addis. No answer. Awesome. More eyerolling from hubband.

I talked to another random Ethiopian fellow and discovered that he was someone we knew. Well, knew of. Another family had traveled and mentioned that he was an excellent guide. He was picking up someone else, but said he'd take us too if we needed. I asked to borrow his phone and called Almaz again, but no answer. I am starting to think we'll just ride with the guide and eventually get where we're going. It's early in the afternoon so there's plenty of time.

But wait, here comes our luggage guy, running through the people with his phone. It's Almaz! She is really glad to hear we're alive. Well, that's slightly alarming. Apparently in all our wire crossing and international correspondence and flight rescheduling, AGCI thought we were arriving in Addis on Friday. They'd been at the airport the day before and never found us. AGCI had called us at home, with no answer and all had assumed we were lost traveling the planet. She assured us that someone would come to pick us up. We just had to sit and wait ... and "talk to no one". Ummm. Ok.

We stopped at the snack bar and had a drink and decided to wait outside because the weather was awesome. Seriously, awesome. It was a billion percent humidity in Houston when we left, we'd been to Dubai where it was like two hundred degrees everywhere, and now it was a sunny, breezy, pleasant 72. Almaz's brother came to our rescue. Danny, their regular driver, was off and so he had come with a friend. We get into the van, complete with fur- lined dashboard, hole in the floorboard, and giant picture of the virgin Mary, and head off to our hotel.

Then our van stops. "Ooops! Out of gas!" the friend yells with a smile. Apparently this happens often. This is where we stopped. The driver jumped out of the car, reached for a gas can, jumped on the back of a passing vehicle, and disappeared. I turned to my wonderful hubband and laughed. I believe my words were somewhere along the lines of, "Well, God certainly has a sense of humor, and he just wants to make sure that we are having lots of fun." So we did. The above is a picture out the van window where we stopped. There was a wreck on the "highway" so someone had placed giant bolders in the entrance lanes so you couldn't drive. There were people and traffic everywhere. And we were sitting, trying to laugh, as we waited for our driver to come back.

to be continued...

one year ago today

We just landed in Addis.

Our baggage was all there, the line was short, and we were excited.

There was nobody to pick us up.

But that's a story I'll share later tonight.

For now, I'll just tell you that we had a tumultuous afternoon, and it all ended with a special treat.

A treat so special, we weren't allowed to tell because everyone would be jealous.

We were able to meet our son.

TWO  WHOLE  DAYS  EARLY.

Go ahead and be really jealous. I'll be back later to explain.

Asher Vs. Oatmeal -- Round Three

cupcake mistake

I have these fun things called in-laws.
Maybe you have them, too.
Well, probably not mine because, well, we would have an issue as my hubband is an only child and we all know what that means.
If you so happen to have in-laws, and a child, you know that means grandparents ... and you know where I'm going with this.

Mimi and Grandpa (aka Grumpy) like to bring my boy "prizes". Once upon a time I received prizes, but no longer. I'm not important any more. (Again, if you have children and in-laws, you know where I'm coming from.) I also want to mention that I think it's so funny they are called prizes and not presents. A prize suggests winning. And if grandparents bring grandchildren prizes, does that mean they are brainwashing him to think he's won the grandparent lottery?

I mean, he has, but still.

Where was I? Oh yes. Grandparents. Prizes. On one such grandparent prizing occasion, Asher received a cupcake as a prize. Lucky kid. (I received no such cupcake.) The funny thing about prizes for grandchildren is that often, not always, but often, a prize for the grandchild ends up being a terrible punishment non-prize for me.

Here is the evidence of one such occasion.

Guess who had the "prize" of cleaning that mess? I'll give you three guesses, but you'll only need one.

Super Secret Hair Goodness

I had no idea SO many of you would be interested in my super secret beautiful amazing hair secret. Ok fine, really you want Asher's super-amazing-beautiful-soft-no-crying-when-combing-his-hair secret. Fine. Be that way.

Background: Not too long ago I ran across an article talking about natural body care. Stuff like going 'poo free. And it interested me. Not just because I think it would be funny to say 'poo free all the time. I mean, that would be fun, but that's not the point.  In my actual research I learned all sorts of things about how bad most cleaning agents are for your hair or your skin or the earth.

I also have this tiny idea that God probably gave us everything we need way back in the garden of Eden, and again, I guess, after the great flood. So I don't think we need a bunch of weird stuff we can't pronounce or spell to keep us clean or healthy or happy. (I am still enjoying the occasional Starbucks beverage or packaged and processed sweet, but I'm trying more and more to stick with natural stuff. )

Enter my adorable son. Oh wait, what? You need a picture? Ok. Here.

You see, he has adorable hair. It's soft and has the tightest curls I've ever seen. Which makes it a beast when wet and when it needs to be combed out. You know, because there's dirt or frosting or any other random assortment of yuck in it. And we spend a lot of time cuddling, so I want it to smell good. We'd been using all the Aveeno products as recommended, but his hair felt dry and crunchy sometimes. And in between washings it was nearly impossible to work with it at all. I'm talking big-giant-sad-face-tears here people. The kind you can't ignore.

So I started researching for alternatives. You can do that too, if you want, and you'll never want to shampoo or soap yourself or your children again. I can tell you some yucky things. Instead, I'll skip that and get to the good stuff. You can make your own natural stuff for your kid. And it will work better than anything else and be good for him and not cost you a fortune. Sound good? Of course it does.

Are you ready for the recipe? You are? Ok.
One cup of water and one tablespoon of lemon juice or apple cider vinegar.
Put it in a spray bottle from the dollar store. Shake it up.
You're done. 
No joke.

I use lemon juice because we were out of the APV the first time I made it, and lemon just says clean to me somehow (but I have used the APV, too and it works just as well). I also add some lavender essential oil because I love it and I have it and since we cuddle all the time, I thought it couldn't hurt. I spray this in his hair until it's damp/wetish and just comb through. It is so easy that many times my child does not even realize I am combing his hair. Did you read that? You other APs know what I'm talking about. Some of you sheared your children's heads because their hair was so much work. And they are so cute bald, but if you want to try this, it is awesome.  I also use this in between baths when his hair just needs a little "reworking" from where someone has rubbed all over it because it's so darn adorable.

My husband is hooked on it, too.  I also use it, just in a little different way.

Walk yourself into your kitchen, make some up and try it out. You will not regret it. I already convinced two other APs to try it and here's what they said:

"AMAAAAAAAZING!!!!!!  I have been looking for a hair solution for P for months now and everything on the market seems to leave his hair greasy and not really moisturized.  After one use, his hair is soft, shiny, detangled, and not greasy!

 

I too have a love affair with lavender and added a bunch of drops to the solution.  THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!  You're right, God did give us all we need in the beginning. I am thrilled.  Now we can get back to letting him grow an awesome 'fro b/c we don't have to worry about tangles."

"CONVERT!!!!!!!!!!  Tried it and loved it, who wudda thought?? I thought lemon juice was really drying, but it's really not."

So there you have it. I also made Asher some "soap" that I love way way more. And I don't have to use lotion anymore. Yeah. That's what I'm talking about. And wow, I can't believe how much this sounds like an infomercial. So please try it out, and let me know what you think. Or if you need more info, let me know. I'm a complete convert and we will never go back. : )

And here's another picture if you read all that. 

for your viewing pleasure

You are going to want some volume on this. This is going to make your day. Times two. It's like a two-scoop sundae. Or a double dip. Double goodness. That's how much we love you. Enjoy. 














(P.S. These are uploaded to YouTube so you can go back to them over and over and over again. Heck, you can even embed them yourself and send it to everyone you know. Asher can be an internet star. And did you know that with enough hits, YouTube will actually pay us? Wouldn't that be cool? Go ahead. Copy the link and send it to every. single. person. you. know. We'll let you know when the money trucks start showing up.)