How We Are Doing

We've been home a month. More actually.
People have been asking me like crazy, "So, how are you doing?"
This post is to address that very question.
I have no one word to sum it up…so if you'll forgive me, I'll give you little answers and you can see if you can come up with something to give as a one word answer.
We are BLESSED. Esty is doing remarkably well with the incredible life change she has had. She has opened up to me sharing some very hard things from her past. She has begun to anticipate routine and eat cheese I mean nibble at cheese and hope for noodles. 
We are BUSY. Life with 7 children is all about survival. Add the compounding of two of them having special needs and you have an extreme situation. Further compound it by emotional needs of ALL children, spontaneous injuries (2 broken arms in the past weeks) and their laundry and you have a severely busy situation.
We are TIRED. If there was one thing I have said over and over in the past weeks it is, "I am only ONE mommy and there are SEVEN of you," wishing desperately I could clone myself. I literally cannot keep up with the needs of just Esty alone, so adding in the other 6, I am just never enough. I am spread thin, I have no margin and I pass out in bed each night. 5 am comes early.
We are UNDER ATTACK. Satan hates adoption. We have adopted three orphans in a rapid fire succession. I do believe we are under the enemy's attack. I think that God's hand of ABUNDANT BLESSING in all the funds being raised and being able to bring these three treasures home in an average of 10 months each was incredible. And I think it's Satan's ploy to put us through the wringer now. Stand with us by praying for our marriage. Pray for our patience. Pray for us to extend grace in lavish amounts. To ourselves as well.
We are MISUNDERSTOOD. There are so many misconceptions of our family. People love to say how they think I am Superwoman (oh the thought of it actually brings tears to my eyes) or that we have "saved these lives." We are not the Savior. Spend about 10 minutes here and you'll be convinced of that. We are also misunderstood when people send me messages on Facebook saying, "now that life has slowed down for you, could you…." I laughed at that one. Apparently because I am not fundraising anymore at least that person believes that life has slowed down for us. See? We are misunderstood.
We are BEHIND. As I said above, meeting everyone's emotional needs take time. It's a real challenge to sit and hold when the house around is cluttered from the last "concert" given by the boys, laundry awaits (I do 3-6 loads daily) and the breakfast fall-out still sits in various places children fueled up before the great 7:30 exodus. I hate having all these messes, but emotional needs MUST come first. Our house is in shambles.
We are SILLY. I am forever amazed at my children's ability to laugh. We dance, goof around, have tickle-fests and make up silly songs. Just yesterday Zeb sat in Esty's room and sung a song with great gusto playing on DQ's pink guitar how "Esty is going to walk!! She's gonna waaaaalk!"
We are SCHEDULED: "CRAZY." Esty's medical needs alone have us taking 4-6 trips into the big city each month. We are usually gone all day. So far, we have not gotten any good news regarding her health. She has a great prognosis that she will walk, but her physical health is not good. Neglect does that. It breaks my heart. Each time we go off to clinic, hospital, or the like I need childcare. I have a dear BFF who steps in faithfully for that, I would not be able to do this life without her. Love you, Kerry!
We are WELL FED. Our church family has so blessed us with groceries and meals and God has provided for our needs so beautifully. We are eating well and even Esty is making progress in her consuming of American foods. I continue to enjoy making dinner for everyone. This is one spot of true grace in my life….feeding 9 people 3x daily could get very monotonous, but I truly enjoy it.
So…there are probably other ways I could add to this list, but in effort to go solve the problem at hand with the kids, I'll end it here and let you decide the ONE WORD you'd sum up how we are doing!

Adjustment

Living with my littles is a delight.

Living with my littles is a challenge.

Living with my littles energizes me and makes me laugh.

Living with my littles drains me and makes me cry.

How can both of these extremes be true?

I don't know. I just know they are.

There are moments I am so overcome with the TASK and just keeping them out of trouble that I wonder, "What in the world am I doing with an extra child?"

There are moments that my heart is filled to the brim and overflows and I weep with joy as I kiss their peanut buttered faces.

Around comes another moment, often no more than a beat later, that tests my very sanity and pushes my patience to the extreme. Again.

Yet when it's all quiet, the sun has gone to bed and the tucking in has finished, I lie in my bed nearly passing out from exhaustion I think, "This is it! This is what my Jesus has called me to. Some days its fun! Most days it's nothing but work, but this is it!"

And a smile creeps over my face. 

I have laughed.

I have cried.

I have clapped my hands in sheer delight.

I have wrung those same hands in frustration.

This child you have added to our family, Lord...he is OURS. He is so incredibly special. He has his idiosyncrasies. They push my buttons on some days. On others I am filled with patience and compassion for those same annoyances.

And I step back from the moment and SEE.

He was once lost, alone, abandoned. Crying. Desperate. Hurting. Frightened. Dumbfounded.

Now he has a place. He belongs. He has a bed, warm clothes, shoes. He laughs, runs, asks to be tickled and sings to himself.

So often he catches his reflection in a mirror and proudly declares, "Zebby! I'm not in an orphanage anymore! I'm in a family!" (I've shared this a few times on Facebook when he says this, but he says it A LOT. It truly has made a huge impression on him! And me!)

God has done this good thing. He has rescued my child from a life of homelessness on the streets of Uganda. And brought him here--to a family. Our family. Around our table. Under our roof. Into our van.

And most importantly...

                                ...into our hearts.

He is every bit one of us now.

His adoption will be final this Friday.

I could not be MORE excited!!! A judge will sign the finalization order and I'll pick it up later that day. You might want to listen on Friday morning, because you'll probably hear the cries of joy emit from my heart!!!

Celebration!

Elation!

And...I wonder, will there be fear? Will I be able to mother this child through all his ups and downs? His short life has seen SUCH TRAGEDY. I am no mender of hearts...but God is here and He does that. But will I be able to help him be mended by our Jesus? Will my own shortcomings get in the way?

I do not permit these questions room to dwell. I do not need to be in those future moments. I am called to today, to be faithful with the now.

And right now, we are feeling like family.

We are adjusting.

Thank you, Lord!

Life as a swirl cake

I never even think to buy marble cake mix. But there is some little munchkin who did because when I got home from the store last week and unloaded groceries, there it sat on my counter.

"Hmmm. I never put that in my cart! But...

                                            I could use that for Zebby's birthday cake," I thought.

Funny how things like that happen.

So fast forward to today...see here for why life is so crazy...and I'm preparing his cake for the oven.

But as I mixed the marble cake up...I realized what a demonstration this is about adoption.

We are the pan of yellow cake mix, he is the chocolate mix being added in.

(Did I say please forgive the silliness of this analogy yet? Please do. We are more than yellow and chocolate cake flavors, I know.)

As I plopped down the chocolate on top of the yellow, I realized that this is what life still feels like...nearly 6 weeks in.

But as I took the knife and swirled it together a beautiful pattern emerged.

The cake didn't blend into one solid murky color, each maintained their individual colors and flavors.

And it was beautiful.

That is what our goal as a family is: to blend together into a beautiful, multicultural, harmonious unit. Not color blind, but celebrating each person's uniqueness and contribution to the whole.



We'll get there. 


                       Some day.

Learning Curve

I've been thinking a lot about adoption. Funny time, eh?

Well yeah.

But we are knee deep in the "rubber meets the road" phase. There is so much to adoption long before you ever see that face in a referral picture, long before you ever hear that sweet name.

And that's where I'd spent my my time.

Paperwork. Notarizations. Home study visits. Police clearances. Fundraising. Emailing with lawyers and orphanages. Trainings.

And the focus MUST be there. You simply cannot move forward in adoption without those things.

But there is more. 

A lot more. 

Things like holding and consoling and helping to quiet the fears of a child added into a busy family.

Things like attempting to understand the new foreign words coming out of your son's mouth.

Things like teaching how to sit at a table for a meal and use a fork. How to come running when called.

What private property is and personal space.

Attempting to help work through each "no" instead of crumbling into a screaming heap on the floor.

That I am Mommy and not to walk away with just any random white woman.

What it means to pray and be thankful.

How to get along with siblings...to apologize and to forgive.

There's a lot happening. His learning curve is enormous.

And he's doing well. Very well.

We've been home for two weeks today--and I'm so very proud of our son and how well he is adjusting. But there's a long road ahead.

And we're here to walk it. With him, together.