Party! Party! Party! Party!

Get ready for lots of party pictures!

First, this is from Iain's actual birthday. He got two fun cards in the mail: one from Yaya (Jeremy's grandmother) and one from Nan (my grandmother). Yaya's card contained some money, and when it fell out onto the table, Iain picked it up. I asked him what it was, and he, looking at the president on the bill, said, "It's a man!" Nan's card held lots of pictures of animals wishing Iain a happy birthday. How clever! They'll be decorating the walls of his room pretty soon here.


Okay, party day. We decided to make a happy birthday banner, which was so fun I think it'll become a tradition. The boys "markered" for a long time and got completely covered. Here we are in progress.


We got distracted because Cory was certain he saw a monkey outside the window and was very frustrated that Iain and I couldn't see it. He kept yelling "Mon-tee! Mon-tee! Eeee, eeee, eee!" (That's what a monkey says.) "Outside! Biiiiiiig mon-tee!"


Here's the finished product and the squirrelly boy underneath:



We also blew up lots of balloons and made cookies, per the birthday boy's request. And we had lollipops. More on those later.
We had three families over for a total of 13 people (including us). And we had breakfast for dinner: pancakes, tater tots, eggs, and bacon. And cookies.


This is the table and chairs from Grammy and Papa. They were a hit! (Grammy, I found a different table than the one we had originally looked at; you can push the chairs in under this one, and it could potentially sit more people.)


Here's the party room. And the presents.



Here's Cael, Cory, and Iain sporting their party hats.


Whenever I asked Iain what he wanted to do for his birthday, the answer was always the same: eat lollipops.

Lollipop

(yes, he did help himself to two when I wasn't watching.)

Lollipop (Cael)



Oh lolly-lolly-lolly
Lollipop


Lollipop (Sam)



Oh lolly-lolly-lolly (Kate)



Lollipop! Lollipop!


Here's Iain and his pancake cake. He started the happy birthday song himself, so eager was he to get to blowing out the candles. And yes, he did get them all in one breath. Wish I could post the video for you!


Opening presents:




And a good time was had by all.
(Addison)


(Sam)

Iain is Three!

How is it possible that my little boy is three? Watch him grow...

(Iain, September 14, 2006 - his birthday)


(September 14, 2007 - his first birthday)


(September 14, 2008 - his second birthday)


(September 14, 2009 - his THIRD birthday!)



This morning we took Iain (and Cory, of course) out to get blueberry biscuits for breakfast - one of Iain's favorite things. We did a few other birthday-type things today as well, but the real party will be later on this week.



(He looks like he's in pain, but he's really just making a crazy face for the camera.)


As Iain was going to bed tonight, he sleepily asked me, "Is it still my birthday?"


Iain, you are a precious boy. You are curious and smart, and you think about and remember everything! You are funny, too. You make up songs and stories. Today, you sang this song:

"You are special, because I made you. But I don't like you very much. But now I do."

And this one:

"Old McDonald had a farm, and that's all he had."

And your stories have to do with fanciful birds of your own creation:
The Wella-bird: brownish.
The Vulture-wella-bird: black, with black eyes.
The B-bird: very tiny with a "b" on his head.
The Kilby-bird: I have no idea what this one looks like. You haven't told me yet.

You bring us so much laughter and joy, and I love your sparkly eyes and your dimples.

You are a good big brother, taking care of Cory, checking on him, patting his back when he's sad. You'll be a great big brother to your new sister someday, too. You already talk about her. You know she'll be from Rwanda, and that she'll be a "bee-bee" (baby). You can't wait to go get her.

You are sweet to me. You tell me, "That's okay, Mama" when I drop something or forget something. You run and jump and wrap your arms and legs around me like a monkey when you give me hugs. You and I have special jokes and stories, too. Tonight, as you were going to sleep, you sat up and peered at me and said, "Mama, I ate all your cake!" And when I smiled and said, "Yes, you did," you laid right back down and went to sleep. You were talking about how on Sunday, I went to find Cory and left you and Dad sitting at the table eating lunch. You were done, so you said, and I had already cleaned you up. But I put my piece of cake down a few seats away from you, and when I came back, you had moved yourself right over, downed my whole piece of cake, and were sitting there, covered in sticky crumbs, with a big grin on your face. The cat that ate the canary.

You and your dad have so much fun together. You love to wrestle or be chased around by him, and you love to be up on his shoulders. You want to go talk to him throughout the day, and you want to do all the "boy things" with him. You love it when he sings you to sleep, and I often catch you singing "Daddy's songs" to Cory, to your stuffed buddies, or to Jesus. You love your daddy so much, and he loves you too.

My favorite thing about you growing up, though, is hearing you talk more and more about Jesus. You ask me about heaven a lot and tell me you want to go there. You talk about God and to God. Last week, you asked God if I could have a coke, and reported that He said no, but that I could have a healthy treat instead! You are growing in your love for Jesus and I thrill to see Him working in your heart.

We love you, Iain. You are a special boy and you have our hearts. So many people love you. And we are proud of the boy you are growing up to be!

Happy birthday, Iain!

Okay, Pray-ers

Time to get praying!

Our last home study visit is Tuesday, and we are still lacking two documents. One needs to come in the mail tomorrow, and one I need to be able to pick up tomorrow.

If we don't get these by Tuesday, our home study will be delayed by at least two weeks because our social worker is going on vacation (the nerve!). We want to get it done asap because the next part of the process - sending away for our I-600 approval - could take anywhere from six weeks to three months, and I'm hoping to get it back before things get busy with the holidays.

Anyway, all that to say, will you please pray with us that
1. the FBI document will be in our mailbox tomorrow, and
2. that "ll have great favor tomorrow with the CPS office, and they'll let me pick up my document from them that day?

Thanks everyone. I'll keep you posted.

Bedside Manner

So I finally got into the clinic to get my blood drawn (see previous post). I had both of the boys with me. Iain was worried about the blood draw, a little teary, and very tired. So he sat on my lap and watched the nurse. Oh, the nurse.

First, she gave us the first negative reaction we've had about adopting. She thinks we already have two little ones, so why would we want another?

Second, she argued for a few minutes about how far away we live:
Her: So you're really an hour drive from here?
Me: About 45 minutes, actually.
Her: My brother lives in your town, and it's right over there (she points).
Me: Well, it took us 45 minutes to get here.
Her: But my brother lives there, and it's closer than that.
Me: (really? Are we really arguing about this?) Maybe he lives in a different part of town.
Her: Well, he lives closer than 45 minutes.
Me: (internally) AHHHHH!

But here's the kicker. My almost-three-year old watches as she sticks the needle in my arm. In an attempt to make him feel better, I explain the process, point out the blood collecting in the vial, etc. (Meanwhile, the nurse tries in vain to get that rubberband thing off my arm while the needle is still in. Jerking it this way and that with one hand, mashing the needle down with the other, until I tell her I'll take it off myself. Ouch!)

She finishes, and puts the band-aid on. Iain asks what it's for, and I kid you not, this is what she says to my little boy:

It's so your mama won't bleed to death.


Did you really just say that?!

They Lost It

Last week, Jeremy and I (and two squirrelly boys) went to the not-very-local doctor's office here to get adoption physicals. They were extensive and expensive, and the fact that I rhymed that amuses me, which shows you how tired I am tonight. Anyway, the office is a good 45 minutes away, but it is near our social worker's house. (It's the only one around that we've found that will do adoption physicals.) Bear with me; there is a point to this story.

So we went in on Wednesday for the physicals. An hour and a half drive, total. Went back on Friday, to get the TB tests read. Another hour and a half. We had planned on picking up the forms then, but one of my blood tests wasn't in yet. No problem; we're headed back up there next Wednesday for our last meeting with the social worker at her house (the next one's at our house). We'll pick them up before we see her, hit a kinko's to make a copy for her, and deliver them to her. Easy.

Well, I got a call today. The lab lost my blood. Yes, friends, they lost my blood. That's slightly disturbing to me. How can you lose a vial of blood? Did the doctor get interrupted by a sudden urge for a cup of coffee and leave it in the break room? Did someone accidently drop it and let it roll under the couch? Where is it??

So I have to go back in tomorrow, while Jeremy is doing his half of the meeting with the social worker, and give more blood, while my two squirrelly boys spin around on the stool or sit on the funny "couch" covered in paper. And then we have to wait longer to get the results (I could just tell them that I KNOW I don't have the particular disease they are testing for), and then we'll have to go down there AGAIN (an hour and a half drive, may I remind you), to pick the forms up so we can give them to our social worker when she comes to our house, even though she'll pass right by it on her way. Making this whole adoption physical goose-chase a four-and-a-half hour long ordeal, drive time only, not counting the three times of sitting in the waiting room!

But, said the receptionist who called me, they won't make me pay for this visit. Darn right! You lost my blood, for goodness' sake!

Iain heard me telling Jeremy about this and asked how they lost it. "It's in your body, Mama." At least someone knows where it is!

Edited to add: Jeremy said this post sounded ticked off. I'm not; just rolling-my-eyes amused at the odd predicament we've found ourselves in.

The Funnies

Cory now says, "Me does" for everything! If I get something out of the pantry that he wants: "Me does!" If I ask him to wash his hands: "Me does!" If Iain is doing something fun: "Me does!" And I've tried getting him to change it to "I do" instead, but he can't seem to remember. So he'll yell "Me does!" and I'll say, "Cory, how are you supposed to say that?" And he'll say, "Ah dew." And then two seconds later I hear, "Me does!"


(the boys, their tractor blankets, their "Nan blankets," and their books. They set this arrangement up themselves and "took a little break" as Iain put it, for a good twenty minutes!)

Yesterday, Iain was singing to Lisa (who came to visit - yay!). Here were the introductions to his songs:
"This is a song from France. It's called 'We Went to the Farm and We Had a Pig With It."
and then:
"When I went to China, I learned this song. It's called, 'We Went to China and Saw a Big Man From the Post Office."

Do you remember the song from Aristocats that goes "Everybody, everybody, everybody wants to be a cat"? I was singing that to the boys the other day (I don't know why), and they started yelling other animals everybody wants to be. Cory sings "Eh-bo-dee, eh-bo-dee, eh-bo-dee..." and then they call out the animal. We heard moose, dog, birdie, and my personal favorite: the pos-soom. Yes, Iain calls possums possooms. Please, nobody correct him; I love it.


(Iain playing with pot holders and showing off his wink)

We're big into making up stories now. Iain always asks for me to tell him stories about Iain, Cory, the dog, the bear, the wella-bird, and the vulture-wella-bird. I have no idea what a wella-bird is, but he and his vultury counterpart make it into every tale we tell!

Oh these boys are so funny.

Future Grace

John Piper, pastor of Bethlehem Baptist Church in Minneapolis, and his wife Noel adopted a little African American baby girl. He was fifty when she was born. They had already raised their sons; they thought they were done parenting. Then someone called up Noel and said, there's this baby girl here. And I think she's supposed to be yours. Noel was game, but John... he wasn't so sure. It took him lots of time praying and seeking God before he knew that Talitha Ruth was their daughter.

And he said that what finally convinced him was his faith in God's future grace.

Faith in God's future grace means knowing and believing that not only is He sufficient to sustain you today, but that He will be sufficient still tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day, and the day after that. It is trusting that whatever comes up, His grace will still be enough.

I find this thought very comforting. We have been working through the 8-hour online Hague course we're required to take, and part of it outlines everything that could go wrong, both with the adoption process, and with the child herself. As we move forward with this adoption, there are so many unknowns:

When will we get our daughter?
Will the paperwork go through quickly, or will we hit many delays?
How old will she be?
What happened in her family to bring her to an orphanage?
Will she be ill?
Will she be developmentally delayed?
Will she have trouble attaching?
Will she have trouble as she grows up a black child with white parents?
Will she long for her homeland and feel like she doesn't belong?
What will God call us to, in calling us to her?

In a sense, it really doesn't matter. We know that there is a little girl waiting for us. In our eyes, she's already our daughter. We will go get her and bring her home, and we will trust in God's future grace to carry us through whatever comes next.

As He has always done.

As He will always do.

For Grammy

This is what the boys have been up to lately. Here, Cory is pretending to take a nap and Iain is singing "At the Cross" to him. :)



Thanks for the tents!

Home Study, Part One

We had our first adoption home study meeting today, and despite my extreme case of butterflies in the stomach, it went well. We have two more meetings with our social worker, and a lot of paperwork to do in between. The biggest thing is the Personal Profile: 16 pages of questions about your personality, strengths and weaknesses, childhood, marriage, finances, parenting, etc. It's a lot. She told us it would take a few weeks; however, we are very motivated to get this stuff done! Give us a week, I say. :)

We also have to work on fingerprints, background checks, and - the most time-consuming one, potentially - background checks from Child Protective Services for all counties we've lived in since age 18. That will be two FL and two GA for me, and FOUR FL and two GA for Jeremy. So while on our end, the process is short, apparently this step is notorious for taking forever. We're praying for speed and favor!

And the to-do list goes on and on and on.

BUT. In the meantime, we daydream about our daughter and talk about names, and can't wait to meet her! I found the blog of a family adopting from Rwanda - they're about to go get their two adorable daughters (ages 2 and 15 months). Oh to be in their shoes! It's kind of like holding a newborn when you're in the middle of morning sickness: seeing those pictures reminds me that there is an end to the process and it is a new baby in our arms!

* * *

While Jeremy is working hard to pay the bills and I am painting and paper-working like there's no tomorrow, here is how the boys like to spend their time:

Cory balances bottles of "dip."


Iain hangs out in the entryway, watching me paint high above.

Video Upload

I have this really cute video of Cory I want to upload, but I haven't been able to get it to work - with Blogger or YouTube. It just loads endlessly. Any ideas? It's not that long; it shouldn't take all day.

Sacred Dreams?

I watched a short You Tube video yesterday morning, and it got me thinking. (Warning: I'm about to get on my soapbox and the air is a little thin up here!) The video, which you can see here, is about a family who moved 13 years ago to The Middle of Nowhere, New Zealand, to live in the bush. Although the clip is supposed to be telling you about their lives and their choices, it is oh so clear that the thinly-veiled agenda is to put these unusual people on exhibit for the shock value and "foolishness" of their lifestyle, and to cause the viewers to be appalled that they would force this life on their two kids.

Now, the kids like their life. They make that clear repeatedly. And they do have plans to try living "in villages." But for now, they're content. And they are still kids: ages 16 and 13. Really, should we be encouraging them to leave home and strike out for town just yet? The parents seem to have no problems with the idea that the kids will eventually leave, if they eventually leave.

I'm not going to get into the rightness or wrongness of their decision to live in the bush. What I want to harp on - ahem, write about - is one thing the journalist kept coming back to again and again: the son, age 16, used to want to be a sports player.

See, he used to want to play rugby. But he was obviously never on a team (being that he lived in the bush and all). He said it was impractical. And now he doesn't want to play rugby. He's into trout fishing and possum trapping. Move on. But the journalist can't seem to get over the fact that he can't do the thing he originally wanted to do. That WAS his dream, and dreams, after all, are sacred, right?

Lots of kids want to be sports players when they grow up. Only a few do it professionally. Does that mean that somehow the parents of the kids who don't make it stunted their growth? Didn't encourage them enough? Didn't make their dreams come true? Or could it be that maybe most of the kids are just not talented enough at playing sports to go pro?

GASP! My little Bobby isn't good enough? He can be whatever he wants to be!

Well, no. Not really.

When I was a kid, during the summer Olympics, I decided I wanted to be a gymnast. It was the year that the women's team won the gold, with the one girl landing her vault on a broken ankle. I mean really, how cool is that? But I was in gymnastics when I was little, and I pretty much stunk at it. I was too tall and uncoordinated and unwilling to hurt myself by flinging myself willy-nilly all over that very narrow balance beam. I could do a passable back handspring, and to me, that was acheivement enough.

May I postulate that telling kids that they can do anything and be anything is wrong on a few counts?
1. It wastes their precious time. Why should they believe that if they put in hours and hours of work, it will eventually pay off, when in reality it may not? Note that I am NOT talking about doing something for an alternative reason: to be active and healthy, to establish teamwork skills, for sheer enjoyment. But to do something because you believe it will make you an expert at it when in reality you have no talent for it at all? Waste of time.

2. It degrades the talents they have. By elevating talents they don't have, you're not helping them cultivate the gifts God has given them, gifts which may in fact bring them greater fulfillment because they are ways the child is meant to use his time and energy.

3. It puts too much pressure on the child to succeed.

4. It teaches that to do something simply because you enjoy it, and not to be the best, is somehow not good enough reason. If I love to play piano, I should play piano and worship the Lord through my enjoyment of music, which He made, after all. I should not feel that because I am not the best, or even an excellent piano player, I shouldn't take the time to play.

Of course, this is not to say that striving for excellence is not a worthy pursuit. But telling a child that they can be the best when they simply can't is cruel.

5. Maybe it gives kids too many options. How often do you hear from high schoolers that they just don't know what to do with their lives? Could this be because no one ever helped them discover what they are good at. It's harder to decide what you want to do if it's based purely on what you like to do. But it might be an easier decision if they have spent time in childhood and teenage-hood discovering their gifts, and seeing what they are passionate about AND good at.

Maybe the kid in the video clip would have been a top-notch rugby player. Who knows? But I guess my point is that not every dream will come true, nor should they all.

And also, just because little Bobby wants to do thing A doesn't mean he necessarily should. The dreams of an individual must at times take a backseat to something bigger. In America, we sometimes mistake the right to the pursuit of happiness with the right to happiness itself. So the right to pursue a dream? Sure. If Little Bobby is serious about wanting to play rugby, let him figure out a way to make it work. But the right to rugby lessons, just because he wants them? I don't think so.

Okay, enough nonsense. This post has been written over the span of several days, and I think I forgot what I had originally wanted to say. So don't shoot me. But do let me know what you think!

Because I don't remember what I think anymore. It's been a long week.

Gifts - Haven't Done This in a While

96. For a good time in Florida and a safe trip home.
97. For the Rock House - it's a good place to be.
98. For my extended family.
99. Tonight when we got home, Iain put on my watch, sunglasses, and a policeman hat, and sat on Mug the Chicken (his rocking-chicken) with his guitar and sang a song he made up about everybody going into the house.
100. For Cory's deep-voiced laugh.
101. For my new nephew Isaiah!
102. That my boys have a new cousin:


103. For our daughter in Rwanda. Oh how I wonder who she is!
104. For the opportunity to make friends up here.
105. That I got to meet baby Jude! And that he's my birthday-mate.
106. For Phyllis introducing me to this 1000 Gift idea - it is cathartic and refocuses my perspective. I have a lot to be thankful for!
107. For the ability to write.

Florida

We've been down in FL for the past two weeks, waiting for my nephew to be born. No baby news yet - but we've been having all kinds of adventures while we wait. For example,

Driving down - sweet brothers! Cory says, "han, han" until Iain holds his hand.


What a face!


Tractor blankets from Mrs. G - the boys love them. Especially Cory!


The day after we got here, we went to the beach for a big Schweizer family reunion. The boys had a great time, and I ended up looking like a lobster (it's much easier to make sure your kids aren't getting burned than it is to make sure you're not). Here's Cory and Grace.



One afternoon, we walked to the 7-11 for Slurpees. Slurpees = good idea. Walking in 99-degree weather = bad idea.



Another day, we all went thrift-store shopping and the kids got free cookies at Publix. Aren't we just so creative?



We got to spend some time with Lauren and Noah (by the way, Noah's baby brother will be born tomorrow - sharing my birthday! Fun!).


And we put Aunt Jenna in jail.


And tonight, we capped off our weeks of fun and frivolity by getting Slurpees again, and walking around on the Big Green Monster (a bridge that goes over the road).




Speaking of Cory, he's really talking up a storm! While we lived in the Middle House, he put his first sentence together: All done, Mama. But after that, back to a word here and there. Right before we came down here, his speaking really took off! He imitates us using words (i.e. "Say Slurpee, Cory!" "Fluur-fees!"), and routinely uses two or more words together. And he uses adjectives - how cool is that! He said, pointing at a tiny box of raisins that he wanted: "that little box." Although it came out more like "da lil bah." I got the point. And he said "Bee baahh" for "big ball."

I love, love, love this stage - watching the language skills develop, finally getting to hear what's on his mind. Love it!

Iain's been eating up all this cousin time. The Nelsons and the Bells are here, and the Alex Schweizers are close by, so there is always someone to play with. He is having a blast. I don't think he'll know what to do with himself when we go home.

He's a trip, that boy. The other day, he informed my mom that he wanted to be called Cat Boy. Um, okay. Later, I asked him why.
Iain: Cat Boy is not a regular boy name, and I wanted a different name. So I thought, well, Cat Boy is a good name.

(Right. I especially liked the "well" in the middle.)

Blessed

“In love He predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of His will, to the praise of His glorious grace, with which He has blessed us in the Beloved.”
(Ephesians 1:4-6 ESV)

I've thought of so many ways to begin this post. Been thinking about it for weeks now. And now that it's time to write it, I don't know how to do it justice.

How do you say something so big? How do you express something so life-changing?

I guess you just say it.

We are adopting a baby girl from Rwanda.


Ever since I was young, adoption has spoken to my heart. They call it the Adoption Gene. There are many reasons why I want to adopt, and I plan to delve into them in the coming weeks and months as we wait for our daughter. But it's always been there, something I knew I would do. Jeremy and I talked about adoption before we married, and decided it was something God was calling our family to. Lately, we've been discussing it more and more, wondering if now was the time.

But we'd always thought it would be from Asia. As many of you know, I have a deep love for Mongolia. I thought a child from my "heart country" just made sense. But all the doors closed. Mongolia only allows two agencies in, and it was an unstable situation. I contacted one of those, and it had shut down its Mongolia branch. Jeremy, like I, had always just assumed Asia was the place for us. So we thought about other countries in Asia, but for many reasons, doors just kept closing.

One morning, I prayed (in the shower, one of my best prayer places) about it. I asked the Lord to open my heart to whatever place He wanted, whether Asia or not. And almost immediately, I just felt a peace - a sense - that Africa was where our daughter would come from. Jeremy was praying about Africa, too. We talked, and prayed, and thought, and got more and more sure and excited that it was right.

So we researched some more, and decided on our agency.  We really like it so far (If you are interested to know which agency we're using, email me or leave me your email address in a comment.  I'd be happy to share!). It are a Christian organization, with a definite heart for the orphans of the world. And we applied for Rwanda. Why Rwanda? We don't really know, other than that we feel very drawn to that country, and we know it is the right place.



So, for the curious: Our daughter will be between 0 and 14 months, most likely closer to the 14 months. We will begin assembling our dossier in the next few days, and the home study will be done simultaneously. It takes an average of four months (we're very motivated, and hope to get it done faster!). Then it will be submitted to Rwanda. From then, it will take an average of ten months to get the referral (again, we hope for faster - but who doesn't?), which will give us the name, picture, and short bio of our daughter. From then, it takes about two months until we go to Rwanda (for about ten days) and bring her home. So total, we're looking at a little over a year from now (but Godspeed the paperwork!).

The cost is low for an international adoption, but it's still high. We plan to fund some of it ourselves, apply for grants (and possibly an adoption loan, which is interest-free), and fund-raise. We figure that there is pretty much no better way to spend our money than this.

We ask for you to pray with us and rejoice with us! We're thrilled to be walking this road which will end with a new little girl in our arms!

Cow Days and Beach Days

Friday: Cow Appreciation Day. Dress like a cow and get a free meal at Chick-fil-a. Iain was especially excited, holding his costume the whole way there. Who am I kidding? Jeremy was the one who was really thrilled. We met friends from church there and throughly enjoyed ourselves.





Saturday: Lake Day. Go to the lake and play until you're tired enough to take a good nap. We LOVED the lake! Why haven't we gone before? A nice sandy beach, not crowded at all, clear(ish) water, so fun! I think we'll be doing a lot more lake time this summer. Plus, there were open water swims going on (5K, 3K, 1K) so we got to watch the excitement of people taking off and returning down at the other end of the beach. Made me want to swim a 5K! Or an anything K, for that matter.

Look at this guy: surfer hair, cool hat, big blue eyes, dashing smile, a dimple! We're going to have to beat the girls off this handsome dude!


This one is cute too. You just can't tell here.


Loving the water:



Iain's hidey-hole.


Later, the tired boys (and the tired mama!) read books.