This. Is. Important.

Today we applied for Laila's passport.
It is suppose to arrive on Christmas day.
There is no better present I would like to give my children.
I told Laila today, "This means the world is now your playground! Where do you want to play first?"
She robustly responded, "Smart Cow!" (our local frozen yogurt shoppe.)

So maybe she doesn't quite understand the magnitude of the "whole world" yet. But I know she will.

I told David, this is such an important day for her, as important as the day she gets her drivers license, or even gets married. It is so significant. (He knows I'm fairly dramatic.)

Helping my children understand the world, and explore it all, has always been a huge goal of mine. Some of my best memories, and perhaps some of the most defining, in my life all correspond with a stamp, sticker, or punch in my passport. 

To me a passport is a really big deal.
I got a little emotional when we left the office.
To me a passport means... the world!

My parents did a wonderful job of helping my sister and I explore the world. And my grandmother has always been the source of my "gypsy blood" as my mom calls it. You see, she told my grandfather that she would not marry him unless he took her on an airplane. He was a man of his word, so they wed in July 1947 and hopped on a plane from Oklahoma City to Tulsa.

And she hasn't stopped since. She has been to all of the continents, and has taken her grandchildren with her to many of her destinations. When I was eleven she told me to pick anywhere in the world, and we would go. So we went to Spain, Portugal and Morocco. We still talk about that trip. And a few special stories.

It was on that trip, after a particular meal of pigeon and leeks in Morocco that many of our tour group mates were grumbling. When we returned to our hotel, which had open windows as the sand and winds blew in off the Moroccan coast, a woman in our group started complaining to my grandma about the sand on the floor, my grandma tells the story of me looking at the woman and saying, with all the innocence and honesty that eleven year olds produce, "If you wanted this to be like America why didn't you stay home?"

I remember being a little scared but mostly completely fascinated as we watched the easter parades in the streets of madrid (Think KKK meets bloody jesus statues, and ornate floats being carried on the backs of hundreds of old men).
I remember riding a camel into the sunset in Morocco, and being on my first nude beach.
I remember wandering the markets of europe with my grandma following closely behind me hoping I would remember the way back as I searched for the perfect gem to take home.
I remember riding the bus into the cobblestone streets, sure we would be wedged between the buildings.
I remember eating olives off the trees in Portugal and standing in the same spot that once Christopher Columbus had stood.
I remember watching snake charmers in Africa.
And tortoises in the Galapagos.
I remember my sister and I trying fruits we'd never heard of in Ecuador.
I remember her and I swimming with sharks and holding hands squealing into our masks.
I remember standing in the Colosseum and shuddering.
I remember feeling the walls of the catacombs in rome and crying.
And sitting in the ruins of a public bathe in Sardinia.
Mostly I remember the palpable feeling of history, of depth, of understanding, and purpose.
And each time, my world being put more and more into perspective.
Whether I was hiking the Great wall of China, or feeding orphans in Africa, the world was becoming smaller.
With each trip, stamp, and sticker, I saw God's plan. I saw God's people. I saw what was important and what wasn't. The cross-cultural importance of relationships, family, education, and unconditional love. Every trip helped bring me back home. To what matters.

As a teenager, I would say without a doubt, it was through my travel around the world, and my faith, that I realize how unimportant highschool really was, how important and wonderful my relationship with my parents and family was, and how much I really loved my home.

I still have my passports from growing up, my very first one that was issued at around four months of age, to the one I had to get extra pages for in my busy traveling years, to my current one. And I still look through them all! Each of those stamps, stickers, visas, and punches has a lot of power. A lot of stories a lot of meaning, a lot of depth and purpose.

I want my children to be citizens of the world. Not in a new world order kind of way. But in a, I live my life with perspective, kind of way.

The perspective that only comes from experiencing other cultures and realizing how small it all really is.

This is so important to David and I.

Do you have something that you want to instill in your children, something that is so important? How do you signify it?

Bottom Line Behavior

Another facebook message feed erupted on my (and other friends) time lines recently, it was about parenting again. Surprised?

We all take this parenting stuff pretty personally.
Unfortunately, we take it so personally we often times don't go into any discussion with an open mind.

We sense judgement, whether real, or imagined, and so we put up our dukes.

It makes this parenting dialogue so hard.
And I don't like upsetting people, and I don't like defending myself, so I backed out for a while.

But that was fear.
So I jumped back in with another "risky" facebook post that got people up in arms!

One lady even wrote, "I don't care what research or scientists have to say about...."
Okay, we're done then.
If you can't hear facts, without feeling offended, no one can have a conversation.

A pattern arose on my feed, as well as others who posted the same article, people were continually bringing up as their , "proof" that their parenting styles/decisions "worked" was their child's behavior.
"I used ______ strategy and it has worked because my children are very well behaved" (children are under 5 years of age).
"I can tell when other people haven't used _________ strategy because of their children's behaviors."

This really upset me, so I disengaged (part of my attachment past:)
I didn't know why I was so upset by these statements, I couldn't put my finger on it. So I have spent the last few weeks praying about this, and trying to figure out why these behavior statements upset me.
And I came to this question in my mind,

"Is the bottom line to your parenting strategy behavior?" 

And my answer is "Absolutely not!"

To me, aiming for "good behavior" is like the gospel being cut short, like really short, like maybe right before the New Testament starts.

Right before Jesus shows us it's about relationships, and love when it's least deserved, right before we realize that no matter what we choose, no matter what behaviors we display, God is constant.

I believe that parenting is suppose to be a worldly picture of how God loves us. In that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8). In that, perfect love casts out fear (1 John 4:18), and that we don't shame or disappoint (Romans 5:5) because we hold the hope of Christ.

This idea that we prove our parenting strategies by our children's behaviors, and ultimately, their choices, is very scary to me.

Fundamentally this terrifies me because if that's the bottom line in my parenting, I have surely proved that my Heavenly Father is a terrible father. I have surely proved that His parenting strategies are wrong. Because my choices and behaviors don't often reflect His heart or desires for me.

And ultimately, I have taught my kids that the love of our Father is based on behavior. That if my ultimate goal in parenting is their behavior (thus my severe punishment or disappointment when they misbehave), that God's ultimate goal in parenting is our behavior. And that is untrue.

If that's what my kids walk away with, when they leave my home, I have done my part in raising children who will never fully believe the Gospel. Who will never fully give or receive unconditional love.  Because they ultimately believe that their faith relies on their choices and on their behaviors, two things that they are responsible for. Not Christ's blood. Not His sacrifice.

I think this form of parenting (specifically in Christian circles), in which we equate our success with our children's behaviors and choices, comes out of an American church that has taught us the same. We don't rest, we earn. We don't show up messy, we cover it up. We can't be honest with others, or even ourselves, in fear of judgement and condemnation.
And so we parent this way. And we judge others parenting from this lens.
(Which makes the church a very unsafe place for parents who have children who are struggling behaviorally.)

Behavior should not be my ultimate goal.
My children's behavior and ultimately their choices, do not reflect on me. My love is constant and firm, despite them. (Just as Jesus loves us, despite us.)

So what is my ultimate goal in parenting?

My bottom line is relationship.

I want to see that when my children misbehave, choose incorrectly, hurt people, throw fits, or disobey, that my relationship is constant. That despite their choices/behaviors I am the same. My love has not wavered, my availability to meet their needs, comfort, rejoice, pray, celebrate, or cuddle, is always the same. Just like Jesus is for me.

Because ultimately, I don't want moral kids who believe they must earn a spot. I want messy kids who are alive in the freedoms of Christ.

Why letting your baby cry it out is not God's way.

I have written this post in my mind a hundred times. I have taught this post to many classes over and over again.But I have never put it here. Mostly because I feel like when I "teach" this to a class, or I talk to people one on one, they can hear my heart, and see my tears. And in the world of technology that is often times lost.

But a few days ago I watched a video posted on Facebook of a nursery door, and the cries of a sweet baby could be heard coming from behind the door. The caption read, "It's going to be a long night."
I had to say something. So I wrote, "Don't do it!"
You see we did it.
I know it "works".
But since then I have cried many tears as a result. I let our baby cry it out because I thought I was doing what was best. Because that's what I was taught by well meaning people. Since then I have learned the long lasting effects of letting our babies "cry it out" . It effects their brains, their hearts, and their attachment long term.
( I'm horrified at myself when I remember the Christian circles I walked in then and how we looked down upon those who chose to have their children control them, be the center of their marriage, or who just wouldn't be strict enough to teach their babies to sleep. To you, I am so so so sorry.)

All of this was racing through my mind Sunday night after I saw the Facebook post. Yet I knew I couldn't express my heart, my sorrow, and the science behind why we will never let any of our babies "cry it out" again, on a Facebook news feed. In fact the comments started rolling in.
"Baby manipulation, don't give in!"
"It's the hardest thing you'll ever do, but its worth it."
"Hard to do, but something that has to be done."
"It's harder on you than it is on her."

All friends, just trying to encourage another sleep deprived friend on this incredibly tough road we call parenthood. I know I've said all those things and more before.

But I was wrong. And I'm so sorry.

With our first baby we took "the class". We worked "the schedule". And as the time drew nearer and nearer to the six week mark I knew, we HAD to get him to sleep through the night.
I remember my entire body breaking out in a sweat. I remember my milk coming down, I remember David holding my hand, physically holding me in the bed so I wouldn't "break". Setting the timers so that I would know when I could get up and comfort him. And crying as I listened to him wail.



I often think that in America, from the very beginning of motherhood, we are taught to ignore our maternal instinct or our gut. Whether by medical "professionals" or well meaning friends, or even parents. And that's exactly what we do when we let our babies "cry it out". We ignore our gut. My body was screaming for me to go get my baby, my heart was crying to stop his cries, but I thought I had to do what I "knew" was best. When people comment "it's so hard" or "it's harder on you" that is us acknowledging that it feels so so wrong to do this.

So here is what I have learned.


Babies have needs. They weren't born manipulative, or selfish. They're not trying to mess up your marriage or your family system. They need YOU.

As you can see in my great drawing, a baby has a need, they are hungry, they express that need, they begin squirming, chewing their hands rooting, crying, you meet that need. You help them calm down. You hold them, you feed them, you rock them, you shush them, you bounce them. We do this hundreds of times each day. This cycle, that repeats itself over and over again, is the basis for trust, self-worth and efficacy.

You can also see on the outside I wrote "excitatory nt's" and "inhibitory nt's". This stands for excitatory neurotransmitters (for example norepinephrine, glutamate) and inhibitory or calming neurotransmitters (for example GABA or seratonin). These are the chemicals that are released in the body and brain during the right side of the cycle (the red side) and the left side (the blue side). On the right side, when our children are hungry for example, they begin to cry, their brains are flooded with stress hormones, these are the things that make their hearts race, their screams get louder, their faces red, their pupils dialate. These are the same neurotransmitters that flood the brain in fight, flight, or freeze mode. This is a stress situation.

But then we come.
We feed them, we rock them, we shush them. This is how we teach our children to calm down. This is how we build the foundation of mental health and self regulation, and trust, and self worth.
(Did you know that the largest, percent-wise, area of growth in a woman's body while she is pregnant is the synapsis in her brain for hearing?! We were created to HEAR OUR BABIES!)

When we do not respond to our children's cry the only thing we teach them is that their voice does not matter to us. That we will not hear them. They will stop crying. I promise. And you will have a full nights sleep around six to eight weeks. You will.
But it will be at a cost.

There are several studies I could talk about here. Ones where they put baby monkeys in a separate cage at night and didn't let their moms feed them. The monkeys became psychotic, they had less brain connections than those who were raised with their moms attending to them when they cried. Or others of gagged orphans, or babies who were not held when they cried.

But there is one I want to talk about, the research by Provence and Lupton. They found that within 30-60 days of an infants needs not being met when they cry, they will stop crying.
It doesn't mean they don't have the need.
It doesn't mean that we have "trained" them how to sleep.
It means we have taught them that their needs do not matter to us. That we will not come. (And the psychological research that has been done as a result of this message being sent to our children was done by Megan Gunnar at the University of Michigan, and it is so great, I don't want to talk about it here in fear of making most of us feel awful.)
But they stop crying. And we get to sleep.

Yet their little bodies still have the needs, those didn't go away when we stripped them of their voice. They're still hungry, or just a little scared, or cold, or hot, or wet.

Their brains are not developed in a way yet for them to possibly calm themselves. Not until three YEARS is this even physiologically possible, and truly this portion of the brain doesn't fully mature until around age 30!!

So whats happening to all of our babies that we've "trained" to sleep through the night?
Remember this.


Our babies are living on the right side of this chart. Their brains are being flooded with all those stress hormones, which act like bleach to the brain when they get too much without the calming neurotransmitters flooding over them. They are actually designed to almost paralyze the upper portions, the learning, expression, attachment, parts of our brains so that we only use our fight fight or freeze, base area.
Studies show, that although a baby who has been "trained" to sleep through the night, will not cry (and even sometimes, they won't show the physical signs of being awakened), their brains will still flood with these stress hormones. Their pulse will increase, they will begin to sweat, etc. But because they believe that their voice does not matter, they will not cry... This is still happening even thought we've taught them that we won't respond. So they live on the right side.

We don't want our children living in this place.
I know none of us want this. None of us hope that we paralyze our children's brain and incapacitate it to function properly or lack cohesiveness. None of us hope to risk our attachment and trust that we have with our babies. None of us want to negatively effect our children's self-worth. No one wants to shake the foundations of mental health and self regulation for our children. And yet by letting them "cry it out" we do.

If I could change anything, out of the millions of mistakes I've made as a mom, this would be the one.

There are lots of resources out there.
Here is a great, all around one. If you're looking for more. Let me know.


I would love to hear your comments and such. But let's keep it constructive. I know for some reason this is a dividing line for people. But I just want to remind you, I am not a scientist. I am a mom with five kids ages 6 and under. I am in the trenches! I get it! It's so so hard!

(I will follow this up with some strategies for those of us who have already made the mistake, ways to repair attachment and heal the brain, because there is hope.)



(Thank you Karen for your moral and educational support on all this. I hope I did it justice.)

D-D

Demetrius Luke
D-Luke
D-D
Demetrius
D

We call him many things.
Protector of the city and healer of the people. That is who he is.
And he is destined for that.
He protects and heals.

Last night Tre threw up. He didn't call out for me, or David. He called out for D.
"D, take me to the toilet!"
And he did. He rushes to help at any given moment. He cares for people so well.
He rubs my back, and tickles my arm.
He uses his money to buy treats for everyone else.

The other night Demetrius and Tre went to "Kid's Night Out" (It is really Parents Night Out, but they told me I have to call it Kid's Night Out because it's a night for kids to go have fun... Because apparently they don't get out and have fun that often!)
Demetrius repeatedly found Pastor SYlvia asking her to help him find Tre. They had gotten separated. Sylvia kept telling Demetrius to keep looking.
After so many times of him asking she figured she better help him find Tre. And so they began to hunt. It took a while, and they finally found him in a group of older kids playing a game, which is why Demetrius couldn't find him.
Sylvia was relieved, "Oh thank Goodness! Here he is Demetrius!"
"Thanks!" he yelled as he scampered off.
Sylvia was confused.
Why did this kid beg me and beg me to help him find his brother if he isn't even going to stay with him or even say hi? She thought.

He just needed to know that he was okay, That he was safe. That he was having fun.

He is amazing.

This year I am believing over him balance and healing.
I have written before about the healing that is taking place in him.
He is such an amazing boy. With such a powerful story.

Throughout my TBRI training this year with Doctors Karyn Purvis and David Cross I learned a lot about neurotransmitters. These are the chemicals in our brain.
The ones we hear about a lot like seratonin and adrenaline, and those sorts of things.

It's fascinating to learn about these things!
The reason I think it is so important for other parents who are parenting kids from the hard places (and parents who just feel as if they are struggling an awful lot with a particular bio kid maybe) is that looking into your kids neurotransmitters can give you a whole NEW perspective on your kiddo.

Here are Demetrius' test results:
Red means you are out of the optimal range. You are unbalanced.
All but four of his major neurotransmitters are unbalanced. Some are "dangerously high".
You know what this says to me.
He is trying SO SO SO hard to be good.
He is trying SO SO SO hard to not make a "bad choice".
He is trying SO SO SO hard to be like everybody else.
To sit still. To not run. To not get angry. To not hit. To not be crazy. He is trying SO SO SO hard to notice his environment, and to be aware of himself spatially. He is trying and trying trying and trying.

And because of all of that red, it is SO SO SO hard.
What this shows me is that he is the best kid in the world! Talk about perspective. After seeing this paper I felt a new level of compassion for him. For those parents out there needing a dose of compassion, this is one!

And so this year we are speaking over him balance. He shouldn't have to try so hard. He shouldn't have to feel so "bad".

We are working with our naturopathic doctor in helping to bring balance to Demetrius within his brain without using drugs. But there is also a balance that we want to help him develop in his spirit.

When Demetrius makes a mistake he is so hard on himself. As a mom, I feel sick to my stomach when I hear his self-talk. To hear what he says to himself when he makes a mistake; It's gut wrenching. This quote flashes in my head every time I go talk with him after an "incident":

Source: Uploaded by user via Donna on Pinterest

He didn't hear these things from us, ever. That is such a hard thing. For those of you who get to "blame yourselves" when you hear something from your kids that isn't good... Trust me, that's a better feeling than when you had no control over those things. When I hear him berate himself, and get so angry with himself, and the phrases he uses. It breaks my heart. I wish the whole world over I could have protected him from hearing those things ever said about anyone, but especially over himself. I wish the whole world over that he was just saying "Oh shit!" when he spilled his water for the third time today. I wish that's what we were dealing with. Cause that would be kind of funny.
But this is not.

This week I had to send an email to his teacher, here is just a short snip it, 

 "By you repeatedly giving us his "bad reports" from school he has become very defeated. As I have mentioned to you in the past he is a very very sensitive child who has learned to cue into the way people perceive him as a way of protecting himself and surviving as long as he did in the circumstances he was forced to navigate as a very young child. As a result, your repetitive bad reports that you share in front of him and the rest of the parents is resulting in him feeling extremely disliked and therefore his acting out behaviors are continuing to escalate. "

You see I don't care who  you are. This little boy needs encouragement, your words, your actions, your attitudes, he hears them, in his soul. And it's my job now to protect this sweet boy. Maybe I couldn't for the first three years, but I can now. 

So we're helping him this year to bring balance to his thought life. He can't struggle with this forever. He has too much amazing things to do in his life, and this will hold him back. And he won't be held back.

So we're working on getting the chemicals balanced, yes. But that is really only about 20% of the picture. We are also working with him. I'm teaching him about his brain, using this phenomenal book. It even has cartoons that you read to your kids about the brain. We are helping him focus his mindsight from a feeling or emotion to who he is. Helping him realize that emotions change and are not a definition of who we are, but merely a feeling. We are using the wheel of mindsight from the book, and we are working on filling his brain with positive affirmations and feelings.


I know this is going to be a huge year for him.
I think being a parent is hard.
But I think being an intentional parent, helping our children develop and grow into who they are destined to be is exciting. Choosing to teach our children, all of them, about their brains, their emotions, their bodies, and their spirits, is going to lead to some pretty awesome adults!  I want my kids to start from my ceiling. I want them to be challenged to integrate their bodies, souls, spirits, and minds now.

And so this year Demetrius will find balance. In his mind and spirit. I believe he will enter 2014 knowing what an amazing blessing and child he is. Knowing he is smart and kind. Knowing he has a destiny, and knowing that he will fulfill it with all of us cheering him on, no matter how many times he falls down in the process, and no matter how many glasses of water he spills!

Source: alexacall.com via Amanda on Pinterest

This Girl is on Fire

(Yes you should sing the title.)

Welcome 2013. I am glad you're here.
2012 was the quite the year for us as a tribe. We adopted two children, had a baby, bought a home, renovated, went on a month long family vacation, went to the Bahamas, moved, I got certified in TBRI, we flew to Pennsylvania, we grew our business, and through it all... we stayed married.
That's a good year.

This year is our year of settlement. Our year to settle into who we are now as a family of seven. In our new house, with our new roles, new names, new beginnings. This year we will settle.

I have decided that in 2013 I have a few things to work on.
I want to be more deliberate for what I am believing, speaking over, and teaching my children. And I want it to be individualized.
So I have been praying for God to give me specific qualities or attributes that I want to focus on for each of my children.
Laila was the first one I knew what I needed to be doing in 2013. And so it has begun. I am praying over her and speaking into her these things:
Voice.
Empowerment.
Strength.
Courage.
These are the things I want to help develop within her this year. These are the things that I want to see blossom.
She is all of these things.
But I often times find myself speaking the opposite over her. And that is wrong.

Karyn Purvis talks about giving voice to your children for a brief moment here.

But there is something so profound that she says when speaking about children who's needs were not met as infants and the studies that show that if an infants needs are not met within the first 30-60 days of life they will stop crying.
(Anyone else been in a silent orphanage? I have.)
She says this, "The legacy of a lost voice is great." (insert my tears here.)
Unfortunately I have seen this in Laila. And so this year I have purposed to give her voice, to make her feel powerful.
It is January 4th as I write this, and I am already seeing my quiet, victim-like, compliant to a fault, no fuss, no tears little girl disappear.
Here are some of the things we have instituted in the new year. I am sure you will disagree with most of them. But I'm not parenting your child, so don't worry.

Laila is allowed to hit, push, shove, etc.
If Laila needs something she needs to yell it.
She got a supero-hero cape that she can wear at all times if necessary (Thanks Aunt Diana and Uncle David).
She gets to pick her clothing everyday, no matter what.

And for me:
When Laila asks for something that she needs I must stop, look, and listen, and respond appropriately.
I cannot mumble to myself about her "victim-mentality".
I have to let her pick her clothing, no matter what.
I need to help facilitate mirror time every day.

Here are a few of my thoughts behind these crazy "New Years Resolutions"

You need a little background to the dynamics around here. Demetrius and Tre rarely hurt Laila, and if they do 95% of the time it is accidental. But Noah is an entirely different story. He hurts Laila often. On purpose. And she does nothing about it. She will let him chase her around as he tries to hit her with a toy. When she won't call out from the bathroom for help, he will go in and bite her while she is on the potty. He will throw toys at her, etc. We are working on this with him.
(He is very very gentle with Charli and treats her so well. It is how Laila has reacted to him that has created this dynamic, but he does get punished when this occurs. And that is an entirely different post.)

When we made the announcement to the boys that Laila is allowed to push and hit, I thought Demetrius was going to fall off his chair. He couldn't believe it.
But here is what we said, "Boys, Laila is allowed to hit for now. (Insert faces of utter disbelief, envy, and shock.) She cannot hit to be mean. She can hit to defend herself. If Noah is biting her, or one of you hit her, she will hit back. Right Laila?"
She nods her head with a devilish grin spreading across her sweet cheeks.
"Boys, Laila is precious. And she powerful. And she is not going to let people hurt her anymore. Will you please help her learn to defend herself?"
Then we had about ten minutes of questioning and clarification from the boys. So Laila can hit us if we hurt her on purpose, but not just to be mean? Can we hit each other now? Is punching hitting? What about karate? Does tripping count? How long will this last?

We were sitting at Del Taco during this conversation. I'm fairly certain the other patrons were flabbergasted. At one point David looked at me and said, "Maybe this was a mistake?"

But honestly it has gone so well. Yesterday they were all playing in the basement and I heard D and Tre encouraging Laila. "Laila if Noah is hurting you you need to grab his hand and stop him. He can't hit you with a toy. You are precious and powerful!"
"Oooo-kay." came a little meek voice.

When I see Noah hitting her I say, "Laila stop him." Instead of rescuing her.

There is a history here that will not repeat itself.
There is a generational curse and message that she has received that will stop in our home.
She will learn her worth, her value, her preciousness, and her power here.
She has a voice that is commanding and will be heard.

When children do not feel that they have a voice; they feel that they are not important, that they are not worthy of love and care, that their needs and desires will never be met. And so they manipulate and control in order to get their needs met. They feel that if they were to just ask, to use their voice, no one would ever hear them, meet them, love them or care for them.
Not Laila.

It's January 4th. This morning she came upstairs and said, "Why is Noah up here with you?"
I said, "He needed some loves." (We were sitting on the couch cuddling.)
She looked down at her toes, and quietly whispered, "I need some loves too."
"What?" I said, gently prompting her to lift her chin and look at me. I smiled.
"I need some loves." she said quietly.
I picked her up and loved her for as long as she'd let me, which wasn't very long. Because really she just needed to see if I would hear her.
And I will.

So far we have been jammin' to Girl on Fire every morning in front of the mirror. And I find her singing it throughout the day.
I talk to her about how much she needs and how I am here to meet those needs for her. I talk to her about how powerful she is and that she is in control of her body. She decides how much she eats, when she goes potty, what she wears, who can touch her and how. I talk to her about her voice and the power she has when she uses it.

I have been reading her books from the library like "Beautiful Warrior" and "The Princess Knight", "Nzingha" and others that I have mentioned before like, "The Skin You Live In".

This afternoon she told me, "I do not want to take a nap. I did not have enough time to play today!" It was a mini fit. I was so so proud.

And so my girl on fire she will become.
She is powerful and precious. And deserves for her voice to be heard.
So here is to 2013 and the voice of a precious lady being found... and heard.

Things I Won't Miss....

Other mothers out there parenting small children, let me hear a war cry...

Maybe you don't have a war cry, but you probably need one. I suggest "Eshet Chayil" It means woman of valor in Hebrew. It is a praise and blessing in the Jewish community. Women say it to one another and often times husbands say it to their wives (they actually sing it out of Proverbs 31, I love that). I learned about it here. It's a wonderful blog, and the woman did a 'woman of valor' series that I adored.

Needless to say I'm thinking of getting Eshet Chayil tattooed... That's my warrior cry. (And I am convincing my sister-in-love to get one with  me.)

You know how people always say to you, "Enjoy these times!"
"They go by so fast."
"You will miss it!"
Some days I want to slap those people.

Here are just a few moments from my daily life on the front lines that I dare say I will not miss.

Getting ready in the morning. That is if I get ready in the morning. Those few mornings a week I can muster the gall to leave the children unattended for a few short moments so that I may be privileged enough to wash their sh@t, vomit, mucus, and other nasty germs off of my body. Only to be interrupted at least a dozen times in the ten minutes I am naked in the shower. With whines of needing juice, complaints of siblings, injuries that need band-aids, and requests for new batteries in whichever toy they are currently thrusting at my exposed body.

This morning as I dressed I had one daughter under my dress, playing peek a boo with another daughter who was clawing her way up my tights. As my son continually asked questions about the plans for the day, and our almost two year old ran off spraying my perfume all over the house.

I dream of the day when I can get ready uninterrupted. When I can take a shower, and maybe even deep condition my hair, without the door slamming open and several children piling in as my warm air escapes.

I will not miss serving all five of my children all day long. You know those love languages we speak of. You know what's lowest on my list, acts of service. I was never that girl offering to get drinks for people. Or cleaning the house when my mom was sick. Or even getting my sister a glass of water when she lie dying on the couch of the latest flu to hit school. And now all I do all day (and night) long is make sure other people are happy. A lot of them. Do you know how many glasses of juice, milk, or water I get every day... At least 30. And every    single    time, I am having to explain why it can't be juice every time. Or why they can't have juice boxes at home. And then I'm wiping butts and bathing people. I am brushing teeth, and picking up toys. I am finding pacifiers all day long. And I am tying shoes, and buttoning pants, and zipping coats, and giving medicines, and vitamins, and applying lotions, and doing laundry. I never want to do any one else's laundry. I will not miss the laundry.

I will not miss cleaning the bathrooms twice a day due to the massive amounts of toothpaste I find EVERYWHERE, and the urine that is found in very odd crevices of the bathroom. I will not miss the bathrooms of a mom who has five small children.

I will not miss the noise level. There is always a loud crisis occurring in my home. And at some point, I BELIEVE, there will not always be two children yelling and/or crying at THE SAME TIME.

I will not miss the comments I get from strangers. And the looks when I have all five children in a store, three in the cart, two holding on, and no room for groceries. I won't. When we ever go anywhere when my kids are teenagers I plan on just going incognito. People will think I am the teacher, or the bus driver, or the older weirder girlfriend. They'll never know I'm the mom. The kids will all look the same age, and it isn't too obvious that they are from the same family, so we will be much more socially acceptable.

I will not miss the trash. Daily I am cleaning up massive amounts of trash. Today there was styrafoam ALL over the house, little balls of it. Yesterday it was small bits of crepe paper. Very small bits. I don't know where they find their supplies, but once they find it, they secretly plan how to best make a mess with whatever odd object they have stashed away. And then they go through the house spreading it.
I found a toilet paper roll torn up into thousands of pieces this afternoon... in my sons pillow case.

I promise I won't miss the diapers. Or having to bathe them all.
I won't.

I won't miss the schlep. The coats and boots, and mittens, and diapers. We recently flew commercially to Pittsburgh. And I schlepped five children's necessities through airports during the holidays. I won't miss it. The extra outfits in case of accidents, the toys, the teething rings, the medicines, the sippy-cups, different ones for each child. And don't forget the wipes, and the diaper rash creme. The strollers, and car seats, the wraps, the blankies.... And they all have different allergies of course, so the snacks, different for each child. I swear this was me walking through DIA.

I won't miss it.

I know I'll miss things.
I will miss morning snuggle time in our queen bed, all eight of us (yes the dog comes up too).
And I will miss reading them books on my lap.
And I will miss them thinking I am smart.
I will miss singing them songs.
And I will miss the way they play with me. Doing my hair, and rubbing my face, and piggy back rides, and cradling, and all those things.
And I will miss other parts.

But the first few nights that I sleep through the night without having to nurse a baby. Or help someone to the toilet. Or calm a child crying from night terrors. The first morning I wake up and realize that this season is over... I will smile. Because I think it will get so much better from here. 

Life as we know it... straining forward.

Yes, we've been home for a little over two weeks, and in that time life as we know it has changed.

- We have officially began the adoption process for Laila and Noah and should have an adoption date this week!

- We received some heavy diagnosis for Laila and Demetrius in terms of their past, and how it has effected them. Things like R.A.D. (Reactive Attachment Disorder), O.D.D. (Oppositional Defiance Disorder), and P.T.S.D. (Post Tramautic Stress Disorder, which is diagnosed massively higher in children who have been apart of the foster care system in our country than soldiers returning from war in Afghanistan and Iraq.) They are heavy heavy things, things that we will not use to define their futures, but labels that do put pictures to their pasts. Labels that mean we must remind ourselves of this calling to help heal hurt, and to not stay safe, or clean, but to dive into the mess of this life with our babies.

- We are also in the process of buying a house with foundation problems:D Which seems like no big deal to me, we are in the business of fixing foundational problems, so it seems fitting for us, prophetic, and perfect really, if you ask me. (I'm not sure the lender or my husband share my same passion for this particular foundational problem, but we shall see;)

- We have determined that there are some severe allergies with Demetrius and Noah and are undergoing several different tests for this.

-Demetrius has a severe stigmatism which explains why he is always running into everyone and everything (Not the R.A.D., thank you very much!), and is always hurting himself and others and spilling the entire kitchen:) He will be in really cute, but much more importantly, NOT BREAKABLE glasses from here on out.

So with these factors, combined with my computer that is teetering on the brink of life and death, I am afraid to download any of the photos off my camera from  our trip. Some day I will, and it will be wonderful to relive our "month of family", to look back and remember how amazing the time was and recall what God was doing in us during that time. But for now we are looking ahead at what is to come, we are believing the best for our children, their hearts, their heads, and their bodies. We are looking forward to our new home, wherever and whenever that is. And we are looking forward to completing this tribe once and for all. As we begin our new life as an official family of seven!

"... forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies in front..." (Philippians 3:13)

This is the verse for our family right now. And I just want to remind my self what straining involves from my good friend Dick- tionary:
1 [ trans. ] force (a part of one's body or oneself) to make a strenuous or unusually great effort • injure (a limb, muscle, or organ) by overexerting it or twisting it awkwardly• [ intrans. ] make a strenuous and continuous effort • make severe or excessive demands on • [ intrans. ] pull or push forcibly at something • stretch (something) tightly2 [ trans. ] pour (a mainly liquid substance) through a porous or perforated device or material in order to separate out any solid matter: strain the custard into a bowl.

(Note to husband: This is why we need massages so much, that and our accident in Nashville:)

So as we strain with our family to move forward into what God has for us we must remember that forgetting the past, letting it go and not letting it define us or our children will take an unusually great effort, we might get injured, it will be strenuous and continuous, not something we often like to hear together, not something our society often signs up for. But we have.
We will experience severe and excessive demands, pulled and pushed forcibly, and stretched tightly.
As we are daily pouring our selves out, so that all that is left is what is solid.

We are doing this so that we can make forward progress, so that we can help our children leave what is behind them and enter in to what is destined for them. And that is worth it. (Happy Father's Day baby!)

Not Yet

Well, it's happening. Tre is heading to kindergarden.

I was kind of ignoring it. Pretending it wasn't happening. So much so, that I hadn't enrolled him ANYwhere. And that is apparently not so smart! So then after several failed attempts at open enrolling him in different schools, all which failed, I was sorta happy, I guess that means he can't go to kindergarden and I will have to homeschool him.

(If you know me at all, you are laughing your a$$ off right now:)

But I am serious. I was kinda glad. Until today, when I got the phone call that he did get into the charter school that we wanted him to get into.

I cried.

Not because I was happy, at least not at first.

Mostly I cried because he is leaving. I know, he's not going to college or anything, but he is leaving my protection, and love, and span of influence for 8 hours each day!

What this really means is that my worst fears for him will come true, probably in the fall. He will get made fun of, kids will be mean to him, and he will be without me.

His birth defects are not something he can hide.

And we have been preparing him for this, praying for him, protecting him, and building him up. Since the day he was born, so that when this happened, he would know who he really is, so he would know that he is so much more than the sum of his digits, and is destined for something great. And I know he's ready.

But I am not.

Next week is preschool graduation, and then registration at his new school. And he is so excited. And I am believing that he will always be excited for school, that he will always feel accepted and loved by friends and teachers there. And that when he has bad days, that he will remember who he is. And who His God is.

And I guess, despite my extreme desire for him to never go to kindergarden, it's happening.

______________________________

On another note, this is the school he will be going to, k-8, so he might not go to another school until high school, that is CRAZY! It is a charter school that has been sponsored by Apple, each student will receive their own iPad and all lessons will be conducted on their iPads, this allows for extreme individualization for each student based on their needs. I love this, and I know he will too! It is also an Apple school equipped with smart boards in each classroom, MacBookPros, and amazing top of the line curriculum!

David is worried that Tre might have an iPad before him...

Here is a short video about his new school (for my family)

I think I might be a bad mom.

I could prove this to you if I had a camera. Here are a couple images that would explain to you my new theory. 

1. Today Tre stacked four pillar candles and then managed to balance on top in order to climb on top of our tall dresser in our room and get his confiscated spider man ball. "CLICK"

2. Tre is now a master of escapery and does not stay in his crib, EVER! I need the toddler bed. Unfortunately I work till two or three in the morning occasionally and I NEED a nap. The other day I woke up to him sitting next to a forty pound pile of dog food, all his tractors on top, "diggin' really hard!" Then I walked into the kitchen to a pool of milk and a glass very full in the middle. He had woken up, come upstairs, poured out the dog food, and got to digging. He must have been thirsty though because he then opened the fridge and poured himself a glass of milk. He woke me up only because he needed Polar Express on. You know, to complete the whole experience... milk, dog food, tractors, and polar express, what more could you want in life. "CLICK"

3. I did have my phone for this one:

This is Tre sitting in the kitchen. He found our advent calendar and destroyed it in order to get to the chocolate- unfortunately this was on day, twenty or so, so he had ALOT of chocolate! 

  4. Us sitting in a restaurant with my in-laws, having Tre throw himself out of the high chair screaming and crying for meme. "CLICK"

5. Finding him behind his crib, completely stuck, stading up, after one of his many attempts to escape. He was falling asleep standing up, but stuck, and yet still unwilling to let me hold him or put him back in his crib."CLICK"

And the list goes on. Maybe I shouldn't have more kids. And maybe I should pray more, a LOT more!

Merry Christmas.

Shrinking or Expanding (not your waist, your faith.)

"Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage."    -Anais Nin

This quote has always resonated in me. Something that I thought of as I made decisions throughout my teenage years and even now as a twenty-something. But now, being a mother, it has taken on a whole new meaning. And let me first define what I think of as courage in this sense: The outward doing of the faith you inwardly obtain. To me ultimate courage is letting go of our control and saying God it's yours. Or in this case, he's yours. As a parent that is true courage, God he's yours. 

What is my level of "courage" in regards to my son? 

I think about my parents and the things they let me experience as a teenager. At the time I thought I was the "courageous" one; venturing off to China, Panama, Australia, Mexico, Europe, attending a public high school full of drugs, sex, big bang theories, violence, and more. All of those things shaped me into the woman I am today. In extremely significant ways. I  met my husband in China, I found true trust and faith in God in Australia, I found my strength in high school, I found my heart for orphans in Panama, etc. 

Now I am a parent, and the story has changed, right? I don't have to let my kids do those things do I? I don't have to send mine to public school to get teased, or taught Darwin's theory?  And he's certainly not going on any missions trip without me before he's eighteen! And forget leaving me for six months to be a student abroad. No way. 

Maybe one of the greatest lessons my parents will ever teach me I am just now learning. That to truly trust God, to have courage, in the most obvious sense of the word, is to say, 

"Okay God I trust you with him."

Because I don't ever want to be a mom who shrinks my kids world because I am not courageous enough to trust God.