Universal Code

5 years ago, a good friend was in china adopting her daughter. My, how we were praying. They flew from her daughter's home province to Guangzhou. Some of us got a message from her....(the paraphrased version)

The flight from Nanning to Guangzhou was really, really hard for M. I think it just made the whole arrangement permanent....
She hates me.... she is telling Chinese people that we are kidnapping her.
When I got to the room in the White Swan, there was a Coke and the Dove bar in the mini bar. I told J (husband) I had to have a minute, that I was going in the bathroom.
He said he had to use the bathroom, so I took that Coke and Dove bar right into the closet. I sat on the safe, had my Dove bar, my Coke, and my good cry.
When I came out, J said, "You know that cost $7, right?"
Worth. every. penny.

Subsequently, we have adopted the " dove bar and diet coke in a closet" phrase as code for " I simply can not take another minute of my life right now- no matter the cost, I must retreat with comfort food in the dark by myself or I may go crazy and/or someone is going to get hurt. I need to cry and feel sorry for myself and then pull myself back together."

A couple of days ago, my Facebook status read: "I am heading to the closet with my Dove Bar and Diet Coke"

More than a few people understood - and the circle was wider than just the few who actually know the aforementioned incident.

Apparently, there is a universal language for moms with kids with special needs.

Other code words:

"We are keeping our world small" means - "there is no way I am taking this mess out in public where the least embarrassing thing they might do is pee in public"

"It was a good day" - means "no one got hurt, the number of meltdowns was in the single digits and I actually made one phone call uninterrupted."

"Transition time" - means - "anytime we have to stop doing one thing and start doing another, including standing up after sitting down, chewing your food after putting it in your mouth and putting your pajamas on after taking your clothes off."

What is part of your universal code?? 

We Know Her

Three years. It's not all her life. 

That's how long I have known her. She literally burst into our lives that day. That day - 3 years ago - I didn't know anything. About her. About the next three weeks, three months, three years. About a lot of things. 

I didn't know what kind of a sister  she would be. 

I didn't know what she liked to eat, when she took a nap (she didn't!) or where she was developmentally.  I didn't know about how hard the next 2 1/2 years would be. 

I also didn't know about the depth of joy and forgiveness one little, tiny heart can hold. About true, under the skin, into the deepest part of your soul transformation. 

I KNOW her now. 

I know her likes and dislikes. I know what upsets her and what soothes her. I know the sounds she makes in her sleep. I can tell the difference between her "fake" cry and true distress. I know her favorite toys, tv shows and foods. I know her heart.  

No one could have foreseen this transformation except the one who Created her - who knit her together in her mother's womb, who knows every hair on her head and calls her by name. She is fearfully and wonderfully created - perfectly designed to be exactly who she is. The world may see someone who is less than "whole" - but we see a masterpiece covered with the fingerprints of God.

We know her. We love her. 

Kindred Souls

Them: "What did you enjoy most about the holidays ?."

Me: "That they are over..."

That's what raising trauma looks like - at least for the first few years and sometime for many,many more years after that. Sometimes for always. 

When you say this to people who have " normal" families - they laugh and think you are joking and go on to talk about something wonderful about the season

You aren't kidding (at all) but there is no way to really explain it to them.

When you say this to other moms with kids from trauma backgrounds - they go " amen" or " no kidding" or some other affirmation that -praise God- the kids are back in school or back to work at homeschool and everyone survived intact. 

These women can immediately become your best friends. 

Knowing you only a few minutes, they can finish your sentences and give voice to your inner most thoughts.

They know the mean words you said to your husband the night before, the tears you have cried in the middle of the night and the anguished prayers whispered to a God you - for the moment - are sure has abandoned you. 

They are your soul mates on a journey you never expected when you answered the call to parent this child. 

They are your lifeline to reality and your window into the future that glimmers with hope. 

They are kindred souls on this journey.

They are a gift from God. WIthin the hardness of our journey, God has purposed each of us in this journey 'to lift one another up. To encourage. To relate. To love one another through the down times.

I am so grateful for these moms in my life - from the ones I have known and traveled with to the one I met by chance while in hospital with my grandma yesterday. A brief encounter with someone who looks you in the eye and says "I know". 

Divine encounters. Grace bubbles. Reminders from God He is ever present. 

The REAL thing!

The brief snowfall at Grandma's house the previous day "primed the pump" in a manner of speaking for the following day's tip to the REAL snow. We went to the most lovely little ski area - and I mean LITTLE in WIlliams. Elk Ridge - a ski and tubing park. The girls were not interested in the skiing, snowboarding or the tubing - they saw the big snow and were taken! 

It was especially nice to share it with their cousins! Cousin Karen felt about the tubing the same way the girls did - so the four little ladies did the snow fort thing! 

Meanwhile...the boys took advantage of the other activities....

The team getting ready to "tackle the hill"....

the hill.....

the first conqueror....

Uncle John with style.....

...and, well.....at a true loss for words on this one! 

weehee.....loving life! 

We had fun - pure fun. We got wet and rolled in the snow and laughed and play. The flurries were fun - but nothing beats the real thing! 

The joyful first

When you adopt - especially an older child - there are so many "firsts" you don't get - first, word, first tooth, first haircut, first day of school. On the other hand - some firsts are better because they experience them as kids - not babies! 

Snow is one of those. A little baby can like snow - a 10 year old....loves it! 

First - you need some sleds....courtesy of grandad

Then - put the proper outerwear on & go outside to wait for the white stuff....

and here it comes! 

How does it taste??? (she didn't care for it!)

Yeah....! 

This is only the beginning....wait till you see the REAL snow they saw! 

The beauty of firsts - 

Expectations - the Other side of Christmas

For most of my life. I "expected" Christmas to look and feel a certain way. As a kid, Christmas was the one day a year (or so it seemed) that we didn't do any work and just had fun. It was a day of over the top "stuff" and, best of all, my parents undivided attention. One day a year and a heap of 8 year old expectations always met. A very high standard that I expected to maintain throughout adulthood - and certainly into motherhood. 

Before, I could mostly control my reality to meet my expectations. There were times when some adult or other worked to thwart the plan, but I was controlling enough to manage them back in line. 30 boxes of decorations and three consecutive 18 hour days in the kitchen generally equalled a Courier & Ives Christmas. 

Then, they came. 

At first, the little one was manageable. She was a baby. I could nap her into submission. I was bigger than she was. 

Then, the middle one. We still outnumbered them, so I still had a fighting chance to make Christmas look like it should. We lost an ornament or two in the battle, but generally I was still ahead overall.

Then - last year. The third one. I gave away a lot last year because we came home from China on December 23rd. I still had the food thanks to my step dad. Two of the children were so grateful I was home they behaved, and the third was jet lagged into compliance. I expected we would be back to normal this year.

It became evident sometime between landing at LAX last December and the end of summer that maybe I might have to adjust some things at Christmas. I would - with the attitude of a martyr - sacrifice my Christmas "vision" for my children. 

Sort of.

I sold 1/2 the boxes of decorations. 

I served spaghetti in front of "A Charlie Brown Christmas"  for Christmas Eve dinner. 

Far fewer gifts - and limited outside activities. 

Apparently, it was not enough.

Christmas Eve Service. I should be able to take everyone to Christmas Eve service, right? It's a 4pm. It's in a place we know with people we know. It's singing songs they know.

Nope. I am not sure where or when it went sideways, all I know is that at one point Doug, I and three unhappy children were in the narthex leaving my dad all alone in service. We barely made it home in one piece, and it was not without tears from 2/3rds of the littles. 

Shouldn't we be able to go to Christmas Eve service without incident? I have given up the over the top house decorations, the plethora of Christmas presents, the six course sit down meals for two days - all I am asking is for Christmas Eve service?? 

Here's the thing - our every day parenting looks radically different, so why shouldn't our holidays? 

I talk all the time about how other people need to let go of their expectations of how we parent and what our family looks like. Turns out the person that needs to let go of expectations is me. 

I need to re-align my expectations of what Christmas "should" look like to the reality of what Christmas is for my family. When I "die" to my expectations of what I want for Christmas - willingly and without hesitation, without the presence of any "woe is me" or "aren't I a wonderful mom"  - but truly lay them aside, I am living the message of Christmas. 

That is more powerful to my children than any Christmas Eve service could be. 

It also means that our Christmas' will look different for a while - maybe forever. It means that instead of the Courier & Ives - we might have dance practice with the Rockettes after TV dinner. 

Here's the difference between living in expectation and reality  - the presence of disappointment. I can chose to live in expectation and carry the disappointment around with me. Or - I can adjust my expectations to what our reality is and embrace fully the life I have chosen through Jesus and be content - truly content.

I chose reality. I chose contentment. 

We wish you a Merry Christmas

We wish you a Merry Christmas....a few days (ok - a week) late....

We had Christmas - and it went ok! Christmas Eve we fed the reindeer and went to bed....

 The annual family "make dad look goofy in Christmas PJ's" picture! 

 "and I in my cap".....

 Dad's present from the family

 Becky was so proud of her present to momma - and I was over whelmed by her "Kindergarden 2012" ornament

 Cami's class had a Yule store and she picked out this baseball Mr. Potato Head for Pop-pop. It's been a long time since he's done a Mr. Potato Head, and I am not sure this one will actually come out of the box, but I love that she found something that related to something he loves. What a heart she has! 

 Pop-pop in turn had something special for them. We left it till last.....

 .....hmmmm...

 ...the suspense is killing someone!

 BIKES!!!!! 

But this might have been Pop-pop's very best Christmas present! He might have been all tough on the outside, but these pictures say it all! 

Over-all, it was an A+ Christmas! 

.....and a happy New Year.