tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47125347291119950342024-03-27T11:45:02.191-06:00My Camo Kidsǝɟı˥ ǝɟıM ʎɯɹ∀ u∀Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.comBlogger435125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-89973978612457138862013-03-06T13:35:00.005-07:002013-03-06T16:47:39.847-07:00One Year Since: Home.<br />
It has been a couple months full of anniversaries for this family!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mycamokids.blogspot.com/2012/01/meeting-vi.html">The Day We Met Vi.</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mycamokids.blogspot.com/2013/02/one-year-since-legally-ours.html">The Day a Ukrainian Court Declared She had a Family.</a><br />
<br />
And Now, this week our third significant adoption anniversary: <a href="http://www.mycamokids.blogspot.com/2012/03/long-way-home.html">The Day She Arrived Home.</a><br />
<br />
March 9th will be one year since that day. I will never forget it.<br />
<br />
The trip home was an experience straight from the twilight zone. The sweet girl I had come to know over the preceding weeks was replaced by a creature that resembled something like a rabid, angry, caged animal. The first flight especially was incredibly traumatic, and I spent those hours restraining Vi in her seat as she hit, bit, scratched and clawed at me. When we got off the plane my arms were red and raw, even bleeding in a few spots. I was shaking. Crying. Terrified for our second, and much longer, flight.<br />
<br />
Fortunately, just the right people were there at just the right time and that flight was pretty smooth.<br />
<br />
By the third and final flight, my poor girl was functioning on about 3 hours of sleep, every sight, sound and smell was new and scary, and she simply could not process what was happening. To say she came unglued (again) would be the understatement of a lifetime.<br />
<br />
I remember holding her like a baby, as tightly as a could, rocking us both as hard and fast as possible, counting the minutes and seconds until that flight would land. I remember the flight attendant telling me there was turbulence and I had to buckle her in to her own seat. I cried. I can't, I tried to explain, she will lose it. I was told in no uncertain terms...."Too bad." I cried, trying to comfort my panic-stricken beyond-exhausted child as I buckled her in for our bumpy landing.<br />
<br />
I remember trying to get our little Vi off that final plane. I remember her falling in to the first seat she spotted inside the airport and REFUSING to move. I remember a very kindly airline pilot taking pity on me. We must have been quite a sight by then, both of us sobbing in the airport, dirty, disheveled with one yelling in Russian and one pleading in English. He brought us a wheelchair, and walked with us until finally. Finally. My two older boys came in to sight to greet us. My husband had gone to see if we were at baggage claim or something, but quickly returned.<br />
<br />
Vi greeted them with barely a smile. She was asleep in her car seat before we left the parking lot.<br />
<br />
It was a long journey home. It was mentally, physically and spiritually exhausting. It was the beginning of many long and draining days as we tried to figure out what our "new normal" was when, in fact, there was no "normal" because we were preparing to send Daddy off for <a href="http://www.mycamokids.blogspot.com/2012/03/deployment-3-ready-set.html">Deployment #3</a>. The months that followed were full.<br />
Full of beauty. Full of pain.<br />
Full of growth. Full of understanding and misunderstanding.<br />
Full of tears. Full of hugs.<br />
Full of silly semi-Russian-semi-English words. Full of learning.<br />
Full of loss. Full of discovery.<br />
<br />
Full of moments, minutes, hours, days and weeks learning What Love and Commitment really mean when a precious, loving....but traumatized and frightened child comes in to your home.<br />
<br />
Full of Strangers becoming Family.<br />
<br />
My sister in law says adoption ought to be likened less to a birth and more to an arranged marriage.<br />
<br />
Having lived through this year, I would have to say I agree with her.<br />
<br />
It is incredibly complex. Total strangers thrown together with nothing in common except a piece of paper and a desire to become a family. Having to learn everything there is to know about this tiny person, who already has fully formed likes, dislikes, ideas, opinions and memories. So. Many. Memories. That form how they see the world, how they react to their environment, how they cope with obstacles.<br />
<br />
Oh, and they can't explain anything going on inside their heart and mind because by the way, you don't speak the same language.<br />
<br />
Yes. It is as hard as it sounds. Probably harder, actually, then you are imagining right now.<br />
<br />
But most things worth doing take effort. Most rewarding, beautiful, miraculous things do not come to us because we sit back and do nothing. My heart has been broken over the past twelve months in more ways than I can say.<br />
<br />
Now....it has been mended again, into something more wonderful than before.<br />
<br />
We have all grown this year, in ways that we could not have comprehended when we set down this path. I am amazed, and grateful, and so very blessed to be the mother of these five incredible human beings.<br />
<br />
I'd like to ask each one of you to watch this video and just....try not to cry.<br />
<br />
On second thought. Let yourselves cry.<br />
<br />
This is our year. Vi's first year at home, with her family.<br />
<br />
We have been through so much since that first terrifying plane ride. We have overcome and discovered and persevered. And it was so very worth the journey. Every step I would walk all over again, to have this incredible person in our lives. I hope (and I think) she feels the same way about us.<br />
<br />
What do you think?<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/3Wnn0e5QEkQ?list=UUxqiiztgXk0dEjqOnadzJZw" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: red;">****To my Readers:</span></b> This blog will be moving to Wordpress later this week. Unfortunately, Google Friend Connect is being phased out by Google and cannot make the move! If you are subscribed to this blog through this application, please come over and Like the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/My-Camo-Kids/598077946872593">My Camo Kids Facebook page</a> in order to keep in touch during our move and receive instruction on how to continue following this blog once the move is complete. If you read other blogger blogs and are connected via Google Friend Connect please be aware that this option will be gone soon, and be sure to subscribe to those blogs via email, RSS Feed or bookmarking their page until further notice!<br />
<br />
If you have this page bookmarked, you will always be automatically forwarded to the new site once it's up and running.<br />
<br />
Thank you for following along all our crazy adventures!<br />
<br />
<br />Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-10630056913676355042013-03-02T18:35:00.001-07:002013-03-02T18:38:55.808-07:00A Blog In TransitionHey everyone!<br />
<br />
Don't freak out if there are some glitches with my blog the next few days. Making some changes! Don't worry, All will be well!<br />
<br />
I have a super fun post in the works about what happened on my <a href="http://www.mycamokids.blogspot.com/2011/06/bit-of-this-trip-part-two-nyc.html">sort-of-annual-but-more-like-every-two-years-ish trip to NYC</a> to see one of my VERY best friends today, so check back in a couple of days mmmk?<br />
<br />
Mmmk.<br />
<br />
Obligatory photo to keep you hanging:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8522138865/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4588 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4588" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8371/8522138865_75e597d915.jpg" height="500" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-51857875624762085462013-02-28T05:00:00.000-07:002013-02-28T19:16:00.326-07:00One Year Since: Legally Ours<br />
It's been one whole year since officially, legally, Vi became our daughter.<br />
<br />
Court had been almost two weeks prior, but according to their 10 day waiting period she was not legally our child until THIS day: February 28th.<br />
<br />
One month and five days <a href="http://www.mycamokids.blogspot.com/2013/01/one-year-since-we-met.html">after we first met.</a><br />
<br />
It would still be a few more days until she could leave the orphanage, and then Ukraine.<br />
<br />
But legally, on paper, she was ours.<br />
<br />
I spent that day one year ago obtaining a birth certificate in the town where her birth mother once lived, in the town where she was actually born. It was so strange, so surreal, to become a mother because someone says so on a piece of paper. To be handed a "birth" certificate proclaiming you have had a child, who is in fact already nearly 6 years old.<br />
<br />
I am so glad <a href="http://mycamokids.blogspot.com/2012/02/great-paper-chase.html">I wrote it down</a>, because it is now such a blur.<br />
<br />
I went back to read that post.<br />
<br />
And I realized, when it comes right down to it, the whole adoption process can be summarized in one photograph, taken that day as I waited for the birth certificate to be produced in a tiny office in a tiny town in the middle of no-where Ukraine:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8511964948/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_1113 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_1113" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8239/8511964948_43aaef4cff.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
I want to say something, that I don't think I have ever really said here before: Adoption is Hard.<br />
<br />
Like with a Capital H. A. R. D.<br />
<br />
This year has been the most challenging, difficult, painful, emotional, demanding year. More than I imagined. More than I was prepared to face. It has altered who I am and how I see the world, fundamentally. It has also been more beautiful, more miraculous, more amazing that I could have imagined or been prepared for, but I think I have made that aspect of it very clear.<br />
<br />
I apologize to those of you who don't know me in real life. Who may have the impression that older child international adoption for our family is only sunshine and rainbows, smiles and cute videos. I hope that most of you know that is not the case. I mean, Parenting in general isn't all sunshine and rainbows. Everyone knows that, I think. Parenting an adopted child, however, brings a very unique set of challenges.<br />
<br />
I share what I choose to share here about Vi and her journey for many reasons. But the biggest reason I choose NOT to share certain things is for one simple fact:<br />
<br />
It is Not My Story to tell.<br />
<br />
It is Her's.<br />
<br />
There are things, that if I shared them here, would violate her privacy. There are things that, if I wrote about them, Teenage and Adult Vi...I imagine would never forgive me.<br />
<br />
And so, I haven't shared them.<br />
<br />
But it is a fact that adoption is a necessity born out of trauma. The first trauma, of course, being the dissolution of the nuclear family for whatever reason. The traumas after that are individual, depending on the child, but one truth holds steady regardless:<br />
<br />
Trauma leaves scars.<br />
<br />
This Little Girl, who became part of our family one year ago....<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>(Odessa, February 2012)</i></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8511968748/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCN9833 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN9833" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8516/8511968748_f8f98ea489.jpg" height="500" width="375" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Deserves so much More......<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8510857941/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCN9831 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN9831" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8234/8510857941_b9283f3114.jpg" height="500" width="375" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<i><b>So VERY much more</b></i> than the beginning she was given in life.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8511969006/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCN9830 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN9830" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8366/8511969006_1bb553b6ff.jpg" height="500" width="375" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
But there are things that can't be undone. There are hurts I cannot comprehend. There are hurts that can only mend with time. And there are some hurts that may never mend at all.<br />
<br />
One year ago today when that document was produced declaring that she had new parents, her entire future changed. But that didn't change her past.<br />
<br />
A Past where getting out of bed at night to use the toilet was unheard of because "the monsters would kill you and eat you", as she was told by her caregivers.<br />
<br />
A Past where having your teeth knocked <i><b>right. out. of. your. face. </b></i>by an angry nanny as she dragged you up the stairs by your hair, powerless and terrified, means to this day you flinch at sudden movements.<br />
<br />
A Past, full of so many unspoken images, fears, loneliness and hurts that make you behave in ways you can't even understand, and often cannot control. Because you are a Child. Who has been abused by those who were entrusted with your care.<br />
<br />
I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it. So is she.<br />
<br />
I am still trying to figure out how to parent her, how different her needs are from my other children, how my own strengths and weaknesses as a parent have been magnified times a thousand in the wake of her birth in to our lives.<br />
<br />
She is still trying to figure out what "family" means. What "Love" means. What having choices means.<br />
<br />
Still.<br />
<br />
She has come so far, in one short year.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>(One Year Later, February 2013)</i></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8510922965/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4543 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4543" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8086/8510922965_07eab0646f.jpg" height="500" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
She is <i><b>Becoming</b></i>. She is <i><b>Overcoming</b></i>.<br />
<br />
She has transformed before our eyes, physically, mentally and emotionally and will continue to do so.<br />
<br />
But it is an uphill battle.<br />
<br />
While the delight, wonder, beauty and grace which is fully represented in the many things I have written about the last year outweigh the struggles....those struggles which she and all children who have been orphans face are still Very Real.<br />
<br />
If you have a moment today, in honor of our girl, please take the time to <a href="http://covenantbuilders.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-list.html">click here and</a> go read <a href="http://covenantbuilders.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-list.html">this List</a>.<br />
<br />
It is <a href="http://covenantbuilders.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-list.html">The List</a>, composed by many friends and adoptive parents I have come to know and love over the last year, which sheds light on many of the challenges and struggles our children face as a result of their harsh beginnings. Through no fault of their own, the traumas they have endured leave them with maladaptive coping mechanisms. Behaviors that can be impossible to understand from our perspective but which make perfect sense to a child who was never shown love, who was never treasured and kissed and rocked to sleep....who had to fight to survive.<br />
<br />
I am not going to point out which ones apply to Vi and which ones do not.<br />
<br />
Again, I do not think her private struggles should be on public display here. That is a choice each adoptive parent has to make, what to share and what to keep private, and it is a delicate dance because you <i><b>want </b></i>people to understand but you have to acknowledge how your child may feel about these things having been divulged in the future. Some parents share more than I do, some parents share even less. Rest assured, we are all trying to do best by our children. And I do not judge parents who choose differently than I do, I just want it to be clear.<br />
<br />
Just know, as you read, that there are things <a href="http://covenantbuilders.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-list.html">on this list we have struggled with</a> and some we continue to struggle with....sometimes daily.<br />
<br />
Know that what is happening to these children is so very damaging. And it is absolutely unnecessary and preventable.<br />
<br />
Know that while Vi now has a future full of bright possibilities, we left an entire orphanage full of children who may never know the love of a family or have an opportunity to heal because what was her Past is still their Present.<br />
<br />
Let your hearts break. And be moved to act, in whatever way you can, to help a child in need.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8513810227/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4520 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4520" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8097/8513810227_71eee4176c.jpg" height="500" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>(She pushed the lenses out of some 3-D glasses, to look <a href="http://www.mycamokids.blogspot.com/2013/02/from-harry-potter-to-clark-kent.html">like her brothers</a>)</b></i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;">My Dearest Vi,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;">Your Mama loves you. I know you are still struggling to understand what that means, but years from now when you read this I hope and pray that you look back and can see it for the truth that it is:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;">You are home. You are safe. You are Loved. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;">Forever.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;">It has been a hard year, for both of us. For all of us. But I know it is going to continue to get better. We love your laugh, We love your smile. I love when you wake up in the morning and come to see me, and quietly snuggle down under the covers and whisper "I love you, Mama". I have so much faith in you, little one, because you have a spirit of great strength and incredible resilience. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: purple;">Mama has done her best, sweet girl. Sometimes it is exhausting. Some days are frustrating and long and hard. Some days I just do not understand. But I am trying. And I will keep trying. For you.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;">I hope some day you can fully understand that you did not deserve the bad things that happened to you.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;">I hope some day you can fully understand how much my heart breaks when I think that we didn't find you sooner and spare you more hurt, but in the same beat rejoices that we found you when we did...before you were forced to endure the unspeakable soul-crushing of "transfer".</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: purple;">I hope some day you can fully understand how beautiful and amazing you are.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;">The world opened up to you one year ago this day, and I cannot wait to see what you decide to make of it as we move forward in to our second year together.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;">Love for Always and then Some More,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;">Mama</span></div>
Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-85397506328598198742013-02-25T05:00:00.000-07:002013-02-25T05:00:12.326-07:00From Harry Potter to Clark KentThe boys got new glasses last week.<br />
<br />
Our two biggest boys have had glasses for a really long time. I had to go back and check to see, and it looks like they both got them in 2008 although Edo's first photos of him in glasses show up around January of '08 and Pudah's don't show up until September of '08. I have no idea how I managed that one, since you would think they had eye exams at the same time. But maybe they didn't. I honestly have barely any recollection of that year. It was our first deployment and to say I was in "survival mode" would be a serious understatement. I remember Dean leaving and Dean coming home, and somehow keeping us all alive and fed in the interim. So, we will just say it was a success and move on.<br />
<br />
Regardless, they both got glasses somehow and boy were they ever adorable:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8502214426/" title="DSCN3418 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN3418" height="375" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8371/8502214426_530a060d4e.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
Edo, January 2008<br />
<i>(At Fernbank in Atlanta. We used to take Daddy Doll everywhere and take silly photos of him to share with Daddy later so he could feel like he had been places with us. Bug put him in the underwear drawer at Victoria's Secret once and he was lost for over an hour. I'm sure he didn't mind that!)</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8501110763/" title="DSCN1544 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN1544" height="375" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8238/8501110763_0e69afe7f3.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
<i>Pudah, September 2008</i><br />
<br />
Being just the right age at the right time, Edo had a lot of people telling him he looked like Harry Potter when he first got his glasses, and this carried on for the next few years. Both boys had a similar type of wire rimmed glasses each time they chose new frames. I thought they looked really good, and they liked being called Harry Potter, and we just went with it.<br />
<br />
Recently we went to the eye doctor for an annual eye exam. Pudah's prescription had changed quite a bit, but Edo's had remained the same. However, the fact that he has grown at least 5 inches in the last year and his face has changed quite a bit meant that the "child sized" glasses he was still wearing were beginning to look a bit small for his face. <i>(This, and the fact that both boy's frames were in various stages of "broken-ness", bent ear pieces and missing nose pieces and if you'll notice they don't sit straight on their faces etc. They had outlived their natural lifespan, lets put it that way.)</i> And so we decided to it was time for new frames once again.<br />
<br />
So, here is one last photo of the boys in their old frames, a la Harry Potter Style:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8502198404/" title="IMG_4456 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4456" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8112/8502198404_8111a04fe3.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
<br />
I ended up taking all 5 kids out to lunch that afternoon, by myself, and then to the glasses store. I'm pretty sure when we walked in the store manager nearly had a heart attack at the thought of all those little people roaming about his store, but they were really good about keeping their hands off the frames (Except for Baby Man, but he was too short to really reach much anyways).<br />
<br />
Bug, however, decided it was time to put on quite a production and she begged and pleaded and cried on and off the entire time about how unfair it was that she didn't get glasses and PLEASE would I just buy her some pretty purple frames to play with so she could have glasses too. It was kind of silly. She didn't seem to understand why buying $100 purple frames as a toy was a bad idea. The lady helping us said usually the problem is reversed...kids are begging their parents NOT to make them wear glasses! She had never witnessed a scene quite like this before! Vi occasionally would join in and ask for a pair as well, but then she sat and played on my phone when she realized I wasn't giving in. Bug kept it up, even AFTER we left the store.<br />
<br />
The boys chose their new frames in about 30 minutes, and they said we could come back for them in two hours.<br />
<br />
So we did.<br />
<br />
The result was a pretty dramatic transformation. From Harry Potter to Clark Kent Jr.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8501091343/" title="IMG_4460 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4460" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8089/8501091343_b69c7bbc72.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8502200386/" title="IMG_4472 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4472" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8530/8502200386_b322da4483.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8501093711/" title="IMG_4473 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4473" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8111/8501093711_0909d753af.jpg" width="374" /></a><br />
(He really isn't a disgruntled teenager, he was thrilled with the new glasses! He just hates having his picture taken.)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8501092085/" title="IMG_4467 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4467" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8379/8501092085_bc9d8e423e.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
<br />
You know, in case I needed a literal every-day reminder that they are growing up from young boys in to young men. Far, far too quickly.<br />
<br />
Still, I think our Clark Kents are pretty dang adorable.Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-57712173696570251142013-02-21T18:26:00.001-07:002013-02-21T18:26:16.307-07:00Oh, Hey. I'm in Grad School.<br />
Life is crazy. That's not really news, is it?<br />
<br />
But I realized I haven't written about my school well....ever. So, here is my official first school update.<br />
<i>(I'm actually writing this blog post in the ten minutes I have AFTER the kids are in bed and before my class starts!)</i><br />
<br />
In case you don't know, I'm in the Family Nurse Practitioner online program through Georgetown University. It's pretty serious business. The courses are all online but there are a couple of "on campus intensives" that are mandatory for checking off various skills. I started last semester taking three classes but realized about a week in to it that even my personal level of overachiever-insaneness needed to admit this was too much, and I went to two classes, part time instead.<br />
<br />
That was definitely the smart thing to do. And I like to be smart.<br />
<br />
Last semester I took Research and Pathophysiology. It was rigorous and difficult and all those things they told us it would be....times like 10. And I cried quite a bit about what on earth I had gotten myself in to with this program. And I was pretty sure I wasn't going to survive. Or at least make a C or something, which in my brain is a lot like not surviving. Dramatic, right?<br />
<br />
I ended up with an A and an A- respectively. So, I guess that means the tears and stress were totally worth it.<br />
<br />
To celebrate, I bought myself a Georgetown hoodie and a long sleeve t-shirt for Christmas and let my husband wrap them up and give it to me for a present. Cause I'm a really cool wife like that, he didn't even have to go shopping and he was pretty happy about it. With one semester in the bag, I figured made me a "real" enough student to purchase some school gear. And I even finally felt like I could use the tumbler the school sent me as a gift when I got accepted as well, without being some kind of fraud.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8496831174/" title="IMG_4489 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4489" height="375" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8379/8496831174_d8ca4f3704.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
<i><b>(Go Hoyas!)</b></i><br />
<br />
This semester I am taking Pharmacology and Ethics.<br />
<br />
The knowledge that I am now capable of passing these courses means fewer tears, but not really any less stress. Quite frankly, I could use an extra 5 or 6 hours every day. Still, I think I am managing alright so far. Ethics is really interesting and thought-provoking. Pharmacology is a lot of facts and memorization. They use completely different parts of my brain, and sometimes I feel like my poor little brain cells are saturated to the max and might actually explode if I try and memorize one more medication with an unpronounceable-26-letter-name and its 35 different side effects.<br />
<br />
So far, that hasn't happened though. So I must be doing alright.<br />
<br />
I will be taking the summer off because, well, I have five kids who won't be in school. With any luck though I'm on track to graduate at the end of our first year at West Point.<br />
<br />
We'll have a kid who's a sophomore in high school and a kid who's a kindergartner and a few in between. I'll be working and I'm sure life will still be crazy. Just in a whole different way.<br />
<br />
But I'm already looking forward to it.Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-7925341750619130802013-02-18T06:00:00.000-07:002013-02-18T06:44:51.178-07:008 Years<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Today is our 8th Anniversary.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
8 years since we began our lives together.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8483360351/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DCP_4260 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DCP_4260" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8098/8483360351_f776fd826c.jpg" height="333" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
8 years of being a military family.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8483385503/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCN5770 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN5770" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8505/8483385503_014a69f548.jpg" height="425" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
8 years of having babies, babies and <i>(even Ukrainian)</i> babies.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8483373669/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DCP_2062 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DCP_2062" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8506/8483373669_6b55b1c86c.jpg" height="333" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8483384051/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCN4865 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN4865" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8228/8483384051_9d79512192.jpg" height="500" width="375" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8483392415/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0344 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0344" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8515/8483392415_19b48410f2.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
8 years that included three deployments.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8484471742/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="013HomeForChristmas by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="013HomeForChristmas" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8365/8484471742_897eb07097.jpg" height="333" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8483387955/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="homecomingdoyouseeDaddy by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="homecomingdoyouseeDaddy" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8528/8483387955_75f4b3a279.jpg" height="500" width="333" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8484488704/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSC_0300 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSC_0300" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8516/8484488704_2eccf4f781.jpg" height="332" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
8 years that included three reintegrations.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8484576056/" title="IMG_1692 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_1692" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8374/8484576056_3c7664cdda.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8483388923/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="homecomingfirsthug by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="homecomingfirsthug" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8519/8483388923_d4b46e99a1.jpg" height="500" width="333" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8362448015/" title="IMG_0042 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0042" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8047/8362448015_4a74e38fdb.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
8 years of PCS moves, finding ourselves living in Georgia, Colorado and Here <i>(of course 3 moves is really small potatoes in Military World, but PCS #4 is coming in just 18 short months!)</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8483380103/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCN3344 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN3344" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8531/8483380103_353ea2a525.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i></i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
8 years of laughter.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8484461066/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCN0888 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN0888" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8243/8484461066_568943e211.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8483377109/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCN1739 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN1739" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8088/8483377109_8a5553260d.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
8 years of Love.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8484453982/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Ryan Myers Wedding 3 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="Ryan Myers Wedding 3" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8234/8484453982_d2349c50b4.jpg" height="500" width="333" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
8 Really Fantastic Years.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8356597166/" title="IMG_0026 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0026" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8085/8356597166_d23d296eb2.jpg" height="500" width="375" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
This man, who I am fortunate to be able to call my Husband, is the most wonderful person I know. The man, who <a href="http://www.mycamokids.blogspot.com/2012/07/only-you.html">knows my hand in a crowded room</a>, who can calm my fears from thousands of miles away. A man who stands proudly as part of the <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/25/us/civilian-military-gap-grows-as-fewer-americans-serve.html">less than 1%</a> willing to fight for his country. A man who has been to war three times, but who jumps just as readily in to building train tracks with a classroom full of 3 year olds on our "helping parent days" or waging light saber battles with his children. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>(Or vacuuming. He even vacuums. Because I hate vacuuming.)</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
How did I get <i><b>so lucky?</b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There are many days when I really stop myself and wonder.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
These 8 years have gone by in the blink of an eye it seems. And yet it already feels as if we've been married for an eternity as well. Perhaps it is just that I can't imagine life without him.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My better half. My hero.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8484488902/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3463 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3463" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8090/8484488902_3f178f008f.jpg" height="500" width="375" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;">Happy 8 years, my Love. I am happier with you now than I ever could have imagined when we got married, and I know that as the years continue to roll on by I will always be immeasurably honored to be your wife.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;">Love for Always,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;">Lora</span></div>
Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-59832676018275911812013-02-13T05:00:00.000-07:002013-02-13T11:42:08.984-07:00The Family That Shovels Together...<br />
It snowed last weekend.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8468586619/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4383 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4383" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8509/8468586619_890a4d6504.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Snow means shoveling. Lots and lots of shoveling. And hard work builds character. Or something. So we all did it together, our big family of 7. Even Uncle Thomas came out to help, so I guess that made for eight. But Baby Man didn't shovel. So really still 7. You get the idea. It was a lot of shovels.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8469682190/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4390 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4390" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8227/8469682190_feb9131172.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>(If you look carefully, you can see Edo at the far end of the photo staring longingly at our neighbor who owns a snowblower. This cracks me up.)</i><br />
<br />
So, we happen to have lots and lots of kids. Which sort of makes shoveling go faster. And sort of makes it go slower. Depending on which kid you are talking about. The girls generally shoveled snow back and forth more so than OFF the driveway, but they were happy little workers nonetheless.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8468586771/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4388 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4388" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8374/8468586771_0e0df26d92.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>(Why yes, that IS a <a href="http://www.mycamokids.blogspot.com/2010/12/vacation-synopsis-part-one.html">Harry Potter scarf</a> Bug is wearing.)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Of course, those who were unable to contribute as much were more enthusiastic about the chore than the bigger, stronger ones. But that's the nature of Little Kids vs. Teenagers (or pre-teenagers.) Still, the Biggest Kid did a lot of work and I was really proud of him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8469682304/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4394 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4394" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8237/8469682304_1db1ebeea5.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My favorite part of the morning might have been when my 13 year old (who is now standing at 5'9" and showing no signs of slowing down in the growing department) looked over at me shoveling and said "Mama, you know....sometimes I forget that I'm not as strong as you. Because, well, I'm BIGGER than you, but I'm not stronger than you. That's kind of weird."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Yeah. Mama is tough. (You know, at least till he's like 14 or 15 and becomes both bigger and stronger.) But for now, the lingering sense of wonder and pride he had for my strength was really sweet.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8468587207/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4395 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4395" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8389/8468587207_811d7951e8.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
And the littlest of all people was merely there to direct traffic. After about 10 minutes he decided being inside with Grandma & Grandpa would actually be a lot more fun.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8469695100/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4392 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4392" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8241/8469695100_d18f6c9431.jpg" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Even the dog came out to help. And by help, I mean make yellow snow.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8468599723/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4396 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4396" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8251/8468599723_09b434690e.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
We made progress, slowly and steadily. More and more driveway appeared, and the snow drifts on either side got higher and higher.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8468587351/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4398 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4398" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8234/8468587351_46af432fc3.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8469682784/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4400 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4400" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8531/8469682784_4869144da3.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8469694596/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4401 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4401" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8516/8469694596_77ed930e04.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8468599265/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4402 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4402" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8369/8468599265_2f05fddf21.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8468587833/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4404 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4404" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8094/8468587833_6a64da2ba6.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
And eventually, when the work was nearly done, the men proved they were really just the Biggest Kids of All.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/N6FCIDYsz78" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
When the chore was done and after a brief rest, it was back outside for some well-earned play time. There may not be any good sledding hills where we live, but luckily we have something even better: A Daddy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8468599045/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4414 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4414" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8085/8468599045_cab2afbcca.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8469693692/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4417 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4417" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8092/8469693692_950cd3cefc.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
He ran down the yard, pulling them fast and letting go just in time for them to slide a ways and crash in to the snow on the other side of the sidewalk.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8468598299/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4418 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4418" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8104/8468598299_7278d9f835.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8468598055/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4419 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4419" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8104/8468598055_7bfd59cfed.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8468597851/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4420 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4420" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8518/8468597851_fafa35ed89.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8469692764/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4421 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4421" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8088/8469692764_98ea9621cb.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Up and down the front yard they went over and over, often tumbling (very intentionally) out of the sled in to the snow.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8468598801/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4415 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4415" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8390/8468598801_4dc655af69.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Still, Daddy kept them out till they were soaking wet, and freezing cold, but perfectly happy.<br />
<br />
Our lucky girls and their Crazy-fun Daddy:<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/y8lXWQTG72g" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
Weather is calling for more snow this weekend and the kids have THREE days off school. They are already asking if they will have to shovel. I say the family that shovels together, stays together! What do you think?<br />
<br />
Come on, Snow!Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-81824107631494825172013-02-08T12:00:00.000-07:002013-02-11T20:12:48.998-07:00Daddy's Boy<br />
Our youngest child is 3 years old.<br />
<br />
He has spent approximately 21 months of his 36 months of life without his father around. Deployments and training for deployments and more deployments have made this one of the more difficult facts to stomach as a military wife. Especially when the first 12 of those 21 months happened to be the majority of Baby Man's 1st year of life. Daddy left when he was 8 weeks old and returned when he was 14 months old (with a 2 week R&R at about 7 months old).<br />
<br />
I worried. I spent so many nights worrying. What would this separation do to their relationship long term? How would it impact his sense of security? How would he interact with his father once he was home again? He transitioned very easily after the 2010 deployment, and I was so relieved.<br />
<br />
This last deployment he was a bit older. But still not old enough to really understand what was going on, why Daddy was leaving, or when he would be coming back.<br />
<br />
And so, I worried all over again.<br />
<br />
What would this mean, for both of them, in the long term?<br />
<br />
Well, from observation the last two months here is what it seems to mean:<br />
<br />
It means Daddy is Baby Man's favorite person on the whole planet.<br />
<i>(And I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual.)</i><br />
<br />
It means Baby Man treasures every.single.second he gets to spend with his Daddy.<br />
<i>(Sadly, this is because he doesn't seem to know when/if Daddy is going to suddenly disappear for a Very Long Time.)</i><br />
<br />
It means the first thing upon waking each morning he says "Hey Mama, where's Papi?"<br />
<i>(We always used "Daddy", but Vi used "Papa" and it has evolved in to 99% of the time a blended version of the two, "Papi".)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
It means our littlest man has rapidly developed quite a few tricks in attempts to keep Papi in his sight At. All. Times.<br />
<i>(And not just in his sight, but often in his arms with their cheeks smushed together followed by repetitive proclamations of "Papi, I looooove you! Papi!! I LOOOOOOVE YOOOOOUU!!")</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
It means that all day, every day, every hour or two I hear "Hey Mama, when Papi coming back? He go school or he go work?"<br />
<i>(In other words, he has learned "work" is bad, but "school" means Papi comes home for dinner.)</i><br />
<br />
It means each evening when Papi does finally return home from school, the reunion is nearly as joyous as our <a href="http://www.mycamokids.blogspot.com/2012/11/a-very-thankful-thanksgiving-daddy-is.html">Thanksgiving Day</a>.<br />
<br />
It means there is no such thing as too many games of trains or Darth Vader vs. Storm Troopers or Fruit Ninja.<br />
<br />
It means only Papi is allowed to brush the baby's teeth. Or get him ready for bed. Or read him a story. Or put him to bed.<br />
<br />
It means there are never too many hugs or kisses or cuddles.<br />
<br />
It means my boy.....well.....he's a Daddy's Boy.<br />
<br />
And I'm ok with that.<br />
<br />
Every morning, our littlest boy comes in our room and climbs up in bed to start the day with cuddles. He spends the rest of his morning trying to convince Daddy that he doesn't REALLY need to go to school.<br />
<br />
Watching the two of them makes me the happiest Mama on this earth.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/VoS26iweOwc" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-48827226167195490882013-02-04T05:00:00.000-07:002013-02-04T05:08:11.078-07:00Sweet Little Scientist<br />
A few weeks ago, a paper came home in Bug's school folder.<br />
<br />
Now, if you have kids you know that approximately 10,000 papers come home from school each week. Literally, the sound I hear when I open their folders is the sound of thousands of trees dying. It's terrible. 99.9% of these papers go directly to the recycle bin. They do not pass GO, they do not collect $200. They are the bane of my existence and it seems I cannot throw them out as fast as they accumulate.<br />
<br />
And don't even get me started on the fundraisers. Seriously, they should give parents the option of donating $100 at the beginning of the school year to opt out of ALL FUNDRAISERS. I wouldn't even think twice about writing that check.<br />
<br />
So, anyways back to this paper. It was green. And said something about a Science Fair. It was half-way to the recycling when Bug shrieked "NOOOOOOOOoooooooooooo! Mama! Don't throw that away! I have to do the Science Fair!!! PLEEEEEEEEAAAAAAASSSSSSEEEEEE!"<br />
<br />
Really? You want to do the science fair?<br />
<br />
"Oh YES Mama! It's going to be SO FUN! We just HAVE TO DO IT!"<br />
<br />
Yeah. Mmmk.<br />
<br />
I put the paper aside, thinking I could toss it later when she wasn't looking. But two days later she was still asking about the Science Fair. And one week later she was STILL ASKING about the Science Fair. And TWO WEEKS LATER, when she was still asking about the Science Fair....I caved in, and registered her for the Science Fair.<br />
<br />
Bug had gone on a trip to the Natural History Museum with her Grandma and Grandpa recently for her birthday and so she knew just what she wanted to do for the Science Fair: She wanted to make fossils.<br />
<br />
And so, one week before the Science Fair, I went to the library and got some books about dinosaurs and fossils, and one book in particular even had an activity all laid out to recreate how fossils are made.<br />
<br />
Score!<br />
<br />
Grandma even had small toy dinosaur skeletons at her preschool that we could use to make the imprints.<br />
<br />
Double score!!<br />
<br />
One quick trip to the craft store and we were ready to get our science on.<br />
<br />
Clay. Dinosaurs. Plaster of Paris.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8443784504/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4329 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4329" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8370/8443784504_ae342e5b6c.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8443787042/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4330 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4330" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8077/8443787042_84fd23cbfe.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
We took photos from her trip to the museum and put them on one side labeled "What I Saw". In the middle we put the process for making our own fossils and labeled it "What I Did". And on on the other side we wrote a few facts she learned about types of fossils and how they are made and labeled that "What I Learned".<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8443786032/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4328 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4328" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8375/8443786032_a37c53e238.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8442694237/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4334 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4334" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8376/8442694237_b28dba1c40.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8443786488/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4335 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4335" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8473/8443786488_89245d5728.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8443784934/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4336 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4336" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8072/8443784934_4fc05c05b7.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
And Saturday morning she was off to the fair!<br />
<br />
I was expecting....I don't know like 25 kids maybe? I mean, it's elementary school and it wasn't MANDATORY.<br />
<br />
But I guess we live in OverAchiever-Ville, because the place. was. packed. The entire gym was packed with projects, the entire cafeteria too!!<br />
<br />
It was science-mania!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8443787968/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4339 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4339" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8043/8443787968_9f90ced47c.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Here are the girls with Bug's project. Vi didn't want to do her own, but she did help make a few fossils for the display as well and was quite pleased with herself.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8443787526/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4342 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4342" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8079/8443787526_61258cd968.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Grandma, Grandpa and Uncle Thomas came by a little later to see the fair and hear Bug's presentation formally.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8442698081/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4349 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4349" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8503/8442698081_9f5d823caa.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
We walked around and saw all kinds of neat projects and fun experiments, some simpler and some much more complicated than our own (from a potato clock to a robot that could solve a Rubik's cube!) It was a really fun morning, I have to admit.<br />
<br />
<i>(Vi' took this photo with my phone, so cute!)</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8443788928/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4356 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4356" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8358/8443788928_df7fa55ac0.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<i>(Bug with her best buddy from her class, Aspen!)</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8442698421/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4361 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4361" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8324/8442698421_9bedc94716.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
Are they the sweetest, cutest scientists ever, or what?!?<br />
<br />
Who knows, maybe I will actually look at papers in their folders from now on. Perhaps they don't all have to go straight in to the recycle bin. Perhaps other fun surprises await us this school year!<br />
<br />
<i>(But I'm STILL not doing any fundraisers.)</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8443788428/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4354 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4354" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8501/8443788428_d2785b644e.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-29318565039670099072013-01-27T08:02:00.000-07:002013-01-27T08:11:36.962-07:00A Snow Story<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Snow.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It reminds me One Simple Truth:</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8420170750/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4294 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4294" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8219/8420170750_ac27effa45.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: start;">It makes kids insane. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: start;">I remember playing outside for what seemed like hours as a little kid in the snow, and yet now as an adult....here I am taking pictures of my kids playing in the snow through the sliding glass door. From the warmth of the kitchen. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: start;">Yeah. I'm a total wimp.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8419071549/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4296 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4296" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8516/8419071549_5bbac357cc.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>(Yes, our Christmas tree is still out on the back porch. I know. I know.)</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>(P.S. Sand toys make awesome Snow Toys.)</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8420169810/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4298 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4298" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8470/8420169810_8b49bdf3fa.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8419070723/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4300 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4300" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8469/8419070723_5aab90182a.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
For Vi, a Day in the Snow is a big deal. She has told us a lot of stories about her life in Ukraine, many of them follow the same theme:<br />
She was left out. Left, to sit and watch. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Just yesterday she said<br />
<b>"Remember Mama, when you came to Ukraine, and I went to the slide and I shouted to everyone <i>"HEY YOU! LOOK AT ME! WATCH ME SLIDE!!!"</i> I liked that day! Those Nannies thought I can't slide, they think I'm not brave and strong. They say <i>"You can't do that, you walk toe foot, you just sit down, NOW!"</i> Mama says I <i>AM</i> brave, I <i>AM </i>strong. I can do so many things!"</b></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8420169274/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4301 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4301" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8191/8420169274_6397163c56.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Of course when we were in Ukraine, I didn't understand enough Russian and foolishly thought she was excitedly showing off her new Mama. It turns out, she was showing them "Look! <i><u>See Me.</u></i> <i><b>I CAN DO THIS</b></i>." Six years old....and she had never been allowed to go down the slide.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8420168712/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4303 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4303" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8365/8420168712_6dc8801892.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yesterday as I watched them play in the snow, I recalled those few mornings in Ukraine when we were allowed to go outside. I recalled all the other children, bundled up in coats and hats and scarves, being led around the snow-covered playground. Walking round and round the playground on the small sidewalks, staring longingly at the snow. Reprimanded, harshly, if they even stepped off the path a tiny bit. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A child who had slipped, yanked up by just his scarf. The tightening cloth causing his eyes to well with tears. Fingers pointed in his face, scolding.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The other kids might have been allowed to go down the slides in nice weather...but <i><b>None</b></i> of them were allowed to play in the snow.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8420168564/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4304 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4304" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8226/8420168564_c1f8fcd3ac.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
How it must have looked to them, to see this "Crazy American Mama", brushing off the snow covered slides with a gloved hand, cheering and encouraging a little girl who had never been allowed such a simple childhood joy not only to give the slide a try but to Land In The Snow.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Vi screaming at the top of her lungs <b>"WATCH ME!!! WATCH ME!!! I CAN!"</b></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8420168392/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4305 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4305" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8331/8420168392_fe3a15bc52.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8420168126/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4307 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4307" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8079/8420168126_777c1f5e2e.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8420168318/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4306 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4306" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8492/8420168318_409fe983f4.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
They must have been appalled, those nannies.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It makes me smile, to think of her pure joy in contrast.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I don't know if the excitement will ever fade for her.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I hope it doesn't.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Every kid deserves to play in the snow.</div>
Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-89084666782734912982013-01-23T05:00:00.000-07:002013-01-23T06:22:08.782-07:00One Year Since: We Met<br />
We've got some big milestones coming up here, people.<br />
<br />
And today is the first of Three Big Milestones that we plan on celebrating every year from now until....well, Forever if I have any say in the matter!<br />
<br />
Today we will have hotdogs and "spicy beans" for dinner. Per request.<br />
<br />
Today we will bake a chocolate cake. With chocolate frosting. And rainbow sprinkles. As ordered.<br />
<br />
Today we will make a Big Ol' Deal out of the fact that one year ago TODAY.....<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mycamokids.blogspot.com/2012/01/meeting-vi.html">We met.</a><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8406367595/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCN9389 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN9389" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8376/8406367595_a422251fd2.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
One year ago today, two Americans walked in to a small office in an orphanage in Odessa, Ukraine and claimed this girl as a daughter.<br />
<br />
She would become a sister, and a granddaughter and a niece.<br />
<br />
She would have a Family.<br />
<br />
She would be Loved.<br />
<br />
It was the day that she was no longer an orphan.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8407460770/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCN9444 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN9444" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8516/8407460770_ba4a73b7d6.jpg" height="500" width="375" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Well. At least in our hearts. Legally, of course, took a bit longer.<br />
<i>(That's just more reason to have cake in a few weeks!)</i><br />
<br />
But look at our girl now. Look, how far she has come!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8407461230/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4257 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4257" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8351/8407461230_db0dfe8ae7.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>(She has a self-fashioned flubber-beard on her chin. And yes, she is pretending to be a pirate. Those eye patches have to be good for more than just correcting vision, right? GRRRR! Be very afraid!)</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8406368675/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4259 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4259" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8086/8406368675_677defda68.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i></i><br />
<i>(Red velvet chocolate chip cookies?? Yes, please!)</i><br />
<br />
The transformation on the outside in 10 short months is amazing enough. She has grown and changed so much it is incredible!! But when I think about what changes have occurred inside this little girl's heart...it truly is one of the most wonderful things I have ever seen.<br />
<br />
On the wall in her room, hang some big wooden letters spelling out her name right above her bed. Just below are two photo frames that each hold 2 photos. Before she came home, I tried very hard to make sure she felt like part of the family when she arrived. As part of that effort, I put photos of her in several rooms of the house. In these frames I placed 4 photos of us together, meeting and then playing at the orphanage. <a href="http://www.mycamokids.blogspot.com/2012/02/whats-in-name.html">Edo predicted she would not be a big fan of orphanage photos</a>, but it was all I had and when she first arrived she was ecstatic to see herself in photos around the house! Not only in her room but also where each of the kids had a baby photo on the bookcase in the living room I had placed the only baby photo we have of her as well. She would often point to the pictures initially, and talk about Ukraine and the day we met.<br />
<br />
Last week she finally said "Mama, I don't like those pictures."<br />
<br />
<i>No? I like them because they remind me of the day we met you, which was a very special day. Why don't you like them?</i><br />
<br />
"I don't like them because that is Ukraine. I was alone there. I didn't like to be alone. Those pictures... they make me sad. I don't like it, to be alone."<br />
<br />
<i>Well, we don't want to make you sad! Your room should make you feel happy. If you want to change the pictures that's fine, let's pick out some new ones ok?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"Yes, Please!!!"<br />
<i><br /></i>
She picked four new photos.<br />
<br />
You know what I love the most about these four new photos?<br />
<br />
She is with her sister. In Every. Single. One.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8406368951/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4234 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4234" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8503/8406368951_453167255e.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
She is not alone. And she never has to be alone again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8406368973/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4233 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4233" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8073/8406368973_3e0c10d621.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
And that is what we are really celebrating today.<br />
<br />
She may not want the pictures on the wall of the day we met, I can appreciate that being reminded of orphanage life and her old life on a daily basis is not something she needs anymore.<br />
<br />
But I always want her to know how much we treasure and honor the day she came in to our lives. I always want her to know that <b><i>she</i></b> is worth <i><b>celebrating</b></i>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8406369853/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4160 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4160" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8223/8406369853_6928e7f620.jpg" height="500" width="375" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><i>I Love you, Sweet Girl. You changed my life and rocked my world in ways I could not have even begun to imagine 12 months ago. I am a different person, and a different mother, because you came in to our lives. You have an iron will, a spirit of steel. You have defenses built out of necessity from years of hurt....but underneath it all you really have a heart of gold. It has been a long, hard, often bumpy road for all of us, I know. But when I look at you and allow myself to fully realize how far you have come in 12 short months...I am breathless. Tearful. And Grateful to have the honor and privilege of being a part of your amazing story. You are a strong, brave, beautiful, precious, loved, loved, loved, LOVED little girl.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><i>love Always and Forever and Then Some More,</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><i>Your Mama</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><i><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8407410093/" title="photo (4) by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="photo (4)" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8334/8407410093_d7bc54d931.jpg" height="373" width="500" /></a></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><i><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8408505446/" title="photo (5) by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="photo (5)" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8378/8408505446_c672eddb67.jpg" height="373" width="500" /></a></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><i><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8407410073/" title="photo (6) by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="photo (6)" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8501/8407410073_be62bd9b35.jpg" height="373" width="500" /></a></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><i>(Sisters, wearing their "Odessa shirts" and Vi's signature pigtails this morning to celebrate!)</i></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-31331428889454059142013-01-16T11:44:00.001-07:002013-01-16T11:44:16.553-07:00Things I Learned From Deployment: So This Is What Normal Life Looks Like?<br />
I've learned a few things through three deployments.<br />
<br />
And one of those things is....I have no idea what "normal life" looks like.<br />
<br />
What to guess what happened to me this morning?<br />
<br />
I didn't feel well <i>(P. S. I still don't feel well.)</i><br />
<br />
So I went back to bed.<br />
<br />
And my husband got the kids ready for school.<br />
<br />
The alarm went off, and he said "Don't worry, babe, I got it."<br />
<br />
He woke up the kids. Helped the younger ones pick out their clothes.<br />
<br />
He even did the girls hair.<br />
<br />
And it looked great.<br />
<br />
A little bit after 8 I got up, concerned he might forget to put milk money in their snacks or something.<br />
<br />
They were all happily eating breakfast at the table.<br />
<br />
He took them to the bus.<br />
<br />
He came back. He brought me some medicine. He changed the baby's diaper.<br />
<br />
He packed himself some lunch. And he went off to school, leaving me and Baby Man tucked in a blanket watching Netflix on the iPad.<br />
<br />
Maybe this kind of scenario is normal. Maybe it's normal, when Mom is sick, for Dad to take a few extra minutes and be a bit late to work in order to help with the morning. Maybe in normal life, there are lots of opportunities for Dad and Mom to share various roles in picking up the slack when the other is down for the count. Maybe in normal life, this isn't a big deal.<br />
<br />
Maybe.<br />
<br />
But in our family, Daddy being home on a weekday morning to help out meant one of three things:<br />
<br />
1) He was on Leave before a Deployment.<br />
<br />
2) He was on R&R during a Deployment.<br />
<br />
3) He was on Leave after a Deployment.<br />
<br />
Not. Normal.<br />
<br />
In our family, and in military families every where, the greatest sacrifice perhaps is not found in the big moments. Not the birthdays, holidays or anniversaries missed.<br />
<br />
Perhaps the greatest sacrifice is found in these much smaller, often overlooked moments. A Mom who can sleep in a little when she is sick, a Dad who asks around the dinner table <i>"How was school?"</i>, a kid who says "<i>When Papi coming home?"</i> and the answer is <i>"Later today"</i> instead of <i>"Well, let's look at the calendar and count how far it is to Christmas for the 100th time this week..."</i><br />
<br />
These moments happen every day, not just once a year. You know, the little moments that allow your family to be normal.<br />
<br />
I learned from deployment to savor these moments, these seemingly insignificant things. For a husband who is around to say I don't have to be Super Mom anymore....I am so incredibly grateful. <br />
<br />
We are figuring out what normal life looks like around here. And you know what?<br />
<br />
I think I could get used to it.Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-30328009058465071552013-01-13T09:00:00.001-07:002013-01-13T09:01:58.522-07:00Our Vacation Part 3 (that is Really Part 1): Old Friends, New Beginnings!!<br />
Ok, so there is a third part to our Great Vacation Saga of 2012 that definitely merits a post entirely of its own.<br />
<br />
And really, it probably should have been Part One, since it happened at the beginning of the trip, but whatever. I'm just going to be all "George Lucas" like that and write the episodes all in the wrong order and leave people to just figure it out. Mmmmk?<br />
<br />
The story begins with this picture:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8375892597/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCN9858 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN9858" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8510/8375892597_59b789ec68.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
There is our Vi, with her signature brown pigtails.<br />
<br />
This was her last morning in the orphanage. "Gotcha" Day, as it is called in adoption circles. I had just a few more papers to sign, a little running around to do, and then I would be busting her out of there forever. I had brought her new clothes and coat, and got to spend a few minutes watching the kids receive these shoeboxes from <a href="http://www.samaritanspurse.org/index.php/OCC/">Samaritan's Purse Operation Christmas Child </a>(If you or anyone you know has every participated in this program, here is some photographic evidence that the shoeboxes do in fact arrive in to the hands of the children!)<br />
<br />
Sitting next to Vi you will see two little girls. These girls are sisters, and at the time I left the orphanage my heart was very heavy for them. The oldest sister was the same age as Vi, and close to aging out of the baby house. Their time to be adopted together, and before transfer, was drawing to a close. I shared the pictures I had of them and some video I had taken with Reece's Rainbow, and prayed that a family would come for them before it was too late. The older girl, D, was one of Vi's best friends. This is definitely the hardest part of adopting from an orphanage.....the kids that you have to leave behind who in many cases (certainly in Vi's case) are the only "family" your child has ever known. <br />
<br />
How would I explain to our daughter that all these children, including her dearest friends, were simply "lost"?<br />
<br />
Well, you can imagine my excitement and pure joy when just shortly after we got home, a family stepped forward to adopt both girls!<br />
<br />
I was able to connect with their new Mom on Facebook and talk to her some about what it had been like for us in Odessa. The girls would be joining a whole family of sisters, 3 older sisters to be exact. Waiting and watching them go through the process, hoping and praying the girls would be well and still together when they arrived, was nearly as nerve-wracking as our own adoption for me. In Ukraine, you just never know what is going to happen. I did not fully appreciate this until we were home with Vi, how many things could have gone wrong, how many twists and turns and bumps in the road there can be to completing an adoption. It's not over, as they say, till its over.<br />
<br />
And so I breathed a huge sigh of relief one morning when via Skype, Vi and her two friends D & L were able to reconnect at long last! Of course by this time Vi only spoke english, and they only spoke russian having just left the orphanage....but their smiles and giggles and pure joy at seeing one another on that computer screen transcended language! The girls were with their Mama and Papa, they were going home! Most of the conversation that day revolved around the girls pointing to their new Mama and Papa and Vi pointing to me and to Bug (since Papa was still in Afghanistan) and just smiling.<br />
<br />
Imagine the excitement then when just a short while later we realized there was going to be an opportunity for the girls to see one another! My brother was getting married, and D & L lived not too far from the airport we needed to fly in to......so we could meet up for lunch!<br />
<br />
Four months after joining their new family in America and ten months after Vi had come home, this moment happened:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8376972740/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4026 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4026" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8230/8376972740_c4a61cc586.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8375898161/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4027 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4027" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8078/8375898161_149149aa47.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Do you think they were happy to see each other?!?<br />
<br />
D and Vi were definitely like best friends after a long separation. Both girls have CP, and so they were often left out of other activities while in the orphanage, sitting on the sidelines watching the other children according to what Vi has told me. This must have given them a lot of time to spend together, and the bond between the two girls was obvious. And very, very precious.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8377050984/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4033 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4033" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8327/8377050984_4df966f475.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
L was much more reserved, a little shy. Talking about Ukraine and their old groupa brought tears to her little eyes, and she ran to her Mama to climb in her lap and snuggle in to her for comfort. She was so incredibly sweet, and Vi was very happy to spend time with her as well. Here is D & L's big sister, showing the girls something fun on her new phone.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8375977609/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0008 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0008" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8089/8375977609_08d2926a84.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
With all the kids and chaos, the parents didn't get to talk a whole lot. But what little conversation we were able to have was wonderful. This is an amazing family!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8377052562/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0009 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0009" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8048/8377052562_ac61cd351c.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
And so that is how this story ends. After about two hours it was time for us to get on our way. There were lots more hugs and kisses between the girls. And promises between Mommies to get them together again soon. I am so incredibly grateful that the girls will always have a connection to each other and to their past through their friendship. They have had experiences that most of us can barely fathom, and it will be so very important as they grow to have someone in their lives who really gets it in a way that no one else can understand.<br />
<br />
Their new story has begun, and it is my hope that their friendship will always hold a special place in their hearts.Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-50200588006832472702013-01-09T07:51:00.004-07:002013-01-09T07:56:41.866-07:00Our Vacation Part 2: Disney = Fail!<br />
Alright, here it goes for Part 2. Sorry I left some of you hanging, but I really felt like writing the WHOLE ten days out would have been too long of a post. Plus, I really wanted to separate the wedding stuff from the not-so-fun-stuff stuff.<br />
<br />
Here we go.<br />
<br />
First of all, there are two things you must know about my husband before I continue:<br />
<br />
1) He is never sick. Some allergies, yes. Sick, No.<br />
<br />
2) He's a Ranger and stuff. So, basically, he never complains. Ever. Even if he is sick.<br />
<br />
This means that by the time he says "I really don't feel well" most of us would already be curled up on the floor crying and sucking our thumbs and begging for mercy.<br />
<br />
So. When we had arrived at our first Disney hotel on the 30th and he casually mentioned "I don't feel well" I started to panic a little. This should have been the first sign that things would not go as planned.<br />
<br />
I shoved the panic aside, and determined on the 31st we should all go out to Downtown Disney and it would be fine.<br />
<br />
I thought with enough medication we could just power through and he would most certainly be better in another 24 hours. So here we are, preparing to go walk around downtown.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8362447455/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0033 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0033" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8193/8362447455_d39ed36873.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
And so we went to Downtown Disney New Year's Eve Day, and wandered around a bit. In hindsight, the kid's weren't super in to any of it, they seemed a little worn down. They really wanted to just sit in the shade and play at this fountain.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8362461867/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4129 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4129" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8084/8362461867_9f743ca641.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
That should have been my second sign that things would not go as planned.<br />
<br />
But we were at DISNEY dang-it-all-to-heck and we were GOING To find something FUN to do! So, bravely (or foolishly) we attempted lunch at the T-rex Cafe.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8362462061/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4130 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4130" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8043/8362462061_906484867f.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Vi was terrified at first, so like any good parent I took a photo:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8363512652/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0034 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0034" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8467/8363512652_2b852996b2.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
But she eventually realized the dinosaurs were not a real threat and calmed down enough to "pet" a few of them.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8363513076/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0038 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0038" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8511/8363513076_435098f9dc.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8363513006/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0037 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0037" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8368/8363513006_a507d13b68.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
We spent $50 on lunch. And no one ate. I think Vi had one mini corndog. Vi, who will eat a whole package of hotdogs if you let her, and still be asking for more....wouldn't eat.<br />
<br />
This would be the third sign that all things were not going to go as planned.<br />
<br />
The kids rode this tiny train. It would turn out to be the only ride they would experience at Disney.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8363513516/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0040 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0040" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8498/8363513516_7bff3766e7.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8362448159/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0041 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0041" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8501/8362448159_96f795da91.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8362448015/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0042 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0042" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8047/8362448015_4a74e38fdb.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
We came back to the hotel. Dean had dragged himself through Downtown Disney but now climbed in to bed, huddled under the covers, shivering with fever in spite of lots of medication. I tried taking the girls out to the pool so he and Baby Man could nap. We came back about an hour later and things were no better.<br />
<br />
So I tried taking the girls to the hotel's arcade. Initially, they were so excited! It was kind of a long walk, but they were happy to be going on a fun adventure with just Mama.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8362462209/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4133 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4133" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8508/8362462209_4d7c2b1632.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8362462369/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4131 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4131" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8358/8362462369_d9b2087bba.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
We got a game card, we filled it up with $20 worth of tokens and started taking turns selecting various games.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8362462577/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4144 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4144" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8078/8362462577_d72ea2ba93.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8362462869/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4138 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4138" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8229/8362462869_c1d8014b2b.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
We even got our picture made at about 5 pm.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8364792640/" title="IMG_4225 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4225" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8190/8364792640_233672bee3.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a><br />
<br />
Don't we look happy? Don't we look fine?? Don't we look perfectly capable of taking on Disney World the next day?!?!<br />
<br />
But out of nowhere, at about 5:30pm these weird red splotches showed up on Bug's face and she began to moan about not feeling well. Two games later and she was full on sobbing, begging to go back and lie down in bed. She was burning with fever.<br />
<br />
Still desperate to make things right, or just in plain denial I grabbed some soup at the cafe "make it all better" and headed back to the room, Bug crying as she walked along side me and Vi chirping happily "I not sick mama! See? I feel good, I no sick and crying like sister! She cries a LOT, Mama!" Which of course mad Bug wail all the more.<br />
<br />
This could not be happening. We had reservations at the brand new Art of Animation hotel (booked over 6 months ago!) starting on the 1st day of the New Year, with a meal plan for the parks, reservations for lunch at one character dining location each day including Cinderella's Castle and our tickets in hand. It had taken so much time to organize, and we had all been so looking forward to it for months now. We couldn't be THAT sick!<br />
<br />
But it was happening. I looked around the hotel room and saw two feverish children and a feverish, almost non-functional husband. I asked him "But what if you all feel better tomorrow?!?" He gave me that look, which can only be described as "How Do I Let The Crazy-Person Who is Grasping At Straws Down Gently?" before saying very quietly "Baby, we aren't going to feel better tomorrow.<br />
<br />
We had to make the decision to cancel all the reservations.<br />
<br />
I cried. Like, no joke. It was kind of a tantrum.<br />
<br />
Our flight home wasn't till the 5th, I wailed rather bitterly and childlike, what would we do until then?<br />
<br />
My husband, brilliant man that he is even in a drug-induced-haze, and still trying to find a way to make the Crazy-Straw-Grasping-Person happy suggested we try and salvage what vacation we could and at least recuperate at the beach! We could rest, wouldn't have to go far from our hotel room, but could still have a nice time. So, instead of being at the Animal Kingdom we spent New Year's Day driving to Daytona beach which was only about an hour north of Disney. We had a late afternoon lunch in the sand, played a bit in the waves, fed some seagulls and had an early bed time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8363513644/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0046 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0046" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8352/8363513644_2fc688301b.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
(The view from our hotel room balcony. Isn't it pretty?)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8363513888/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0049 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0049" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8222/8363513888_bdc17b97cf.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
All the kids enjoyed the short time on the beach, which was good because the night involved Baby Man and Bug puking. Several times. His fever was spiking very high, and would come on fast as soon as his medicine started to wear off. We were alternating tylenol and motrin to try and stay on top of things, but he was still completely miserable, shaking and feverish and barely able to sleep. Bug was only fairing marginally better, but she was about a day behind him with the illness. Both were coughing as well and seriously congested.<br />
<br />
Vi and I had not fallen ill still so on the 2nd she and I went the the beach and the pool in the morning. She definitely didn't mind the alone time with Mama! After lunch the three sick folks ventured out to the beach again for about an hour, where Baby Man enjoyed trying to build and demolish sand castles and Bug even perked up enough to play in the waves with me and Vi for a bit. In hindsight, I should have brought my phone to the beach for pictures this time, but I figured we had two more days of beach fun ahead of us and surely I would have a chance to get photos later. <br />
<br />
I had also bought the kids some playdoh, for quiet and restful fun.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8363513818/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0048 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0048" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8191/8363513818_863aa69e43.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
The reprieve was, sadly, short lived. The evening rapidly spiraled downward, and another night of high fevers and multiple bouts of puking ensued. I think the people who change the linens and towels hate us.<br />
<br />
The 3rd was probably the worst day. Bug spent most of it vomiting, and we spent most of it trying to keep her and Baby Man hydrated with gatorade as neither of them would eat anything and between the fevers and puking both were definitely at risk for getting dehydrated. I counted wet diapers and made sure I personally witnessed Bug using the bathroom every 6 hours. On top of that, I couldn't even take Vi out to the beach Because now it was rainy and cold outside.<br />
<br />
Rainy. And cold. At the beach.<br />
<br />
Cause, you know, the vacation was not ruined enough.<br />
<br />
We did go out to breakfast because we got up too late to get breakfast in the hotel, but Bug spent it moaning about how she wanted to throw up....which I'm pretty certain the other patrons didn't appreciate. Also, not one of my finer parenting decisions. I think we were delirious from lack of sleep or something, I honestly have no idea why we thought we should all leave the hotel room.<br />
<br />
Bug perked up again though around noon and against my better judgement I took the girls to the very well-heated indoor pool. She was great while we were there, and it was a really nice hour of fun for the girls.<br />
<br />
But almost as soon as we walked back in the hotel room she threw up! Again!<br />
<br />
And again.<br />
<br />
I walked to Walgreens for more gatorade, thinking we were between rain showers and I desperately needed a little fresh air and like 5 quiet minutes to myself. I was wrong, and got to walk back in the rain. Which was fun.<br />
<br />
Oh wait. No. It wasn't.<br />
<br />
On the 4th, we made the 7 hour drive back up to Atlanta. No one puked in the car, and we kept the two littles fully medicated with fever reducers and decongestants. We survived. We stayed in another hotel. The next morning, I got to see one of my best friends from high school and his wife, and meet their baby who is 18 months old. They were pretty disappointed not to get to see everyone else but, wouldn't you guess, Vi had woken up with a fever, cough, and runny nose!<br />
<br />
And so you can see why Disney = Epic. Fail.<br />
<br />
That is how 2012....one of the longest, hardest, most emotionally, mentally, physically and spiritually challenging years of my life ended and the (hopefully?) bright new year of 2013 began.<br />
<br />
We aren't fully recovered yet. This is Baby Man yesterday at around 4:30. The other kids were doing homework, I had some music playing and was beginning to prepare dinner when I turned around and saw this:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8364792378/" title="IMG_4222 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4222" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8050/8364792378_7e9e3155ab.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a><br />
<br />
Poor sweet baby boy still doesn't feel well. Isn't he the cutest thing ever though?!?!<br />
<br />
All I can say is I hope this little bout of bad luck was 2012 leftovers and that 2013 has better plans in store for us all!Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-74587519387908465402013-01-08T06:00:00.000-07:002013-01-08T06:53:24.309-07:00Our Vacation Part I: Wedding = Success! <br />
My older brother Dan got married on the 29th of December.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8356598252/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0032 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0032" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8052/8356598252_3dcd53ab7d.jpg" height="500" width="375" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
My girls were asked to be flower girls along with their cousin Sadie. I had a lot of anxiety about the whole situation. All the new people plus no regular routine plus traveling and staying in a strange place could easily spell disaster for Vi. Sometimes new people stress her out and cause her to act up, like she is literally afraid we might give her to a new family. Which breaks my heart. Sometimes when our routine gets thrown off she can get stressed out and act up, like she literally needs the routine to feel secure and without it she is unsure and grasps for control in an attempt to feel safe again. Traveling and staying in a strange place....well, the last time that happened she left everything and everyone she had ever known.<br />
<br />
So, you know. That was pretty traumatic.<br />
<br />
But the flower girl dress had been hanging in her closet for months. And she was super excited about her fancy shoes. We had talked and talked about what the wedding would be like and how she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to if she got scared. That Mommy would always be close by for a hug, that it was ok to be shy around people you don't know but that a lot of people were going to be very excited to meet her!<br />
<br />
The rehearsal went well, and it was decided that the girls would hold hands on the way down the aisle and that I would sit in front so they could sit next to me during the ceremony so they wouldn't stand the whole time. At the rehearsal dinner she danced the night away with her sister and the other kids, and excited but not in the crazy-manic way she gets excited when she's actually stressed.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8356608440/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;" title="IMG_4069 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4069" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8463/8356608440_51cd242182.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The best part of the night though was getting to chat with my Grandpa, who is one of my most favorite people of all time!<br />
<br />
(Of course, I didn't actually get a picture of he and I together....so sad! But here he is with all the kids plus my brother Ryan's kids after the wedding!)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8361574928/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0024 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0024" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8360/8361574928_63a83a2d6b.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
The day of the wedding we spent most of the day with the bridesmaids getting ready. The girls were precious! They got dressed fairly early, ate snacks, played in their Innotabs, watched people get their hair done, and reapplied lipgloss approximately ten thousand times while asking repeatedly if it was time yet.<br />
<br />
<i>(If the inventors of the Innotab are reading this, I owe you my sanity on this day! Although in this particular photo, Vi is reading up on some free church literature she found in the foyer....made all the more interesting because, you know, she can't actually read. But doesn't she look like she's in deep, religious, contemplative thought here? ;) )</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8356607344/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4103 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4103" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8185/8356607344_28fc63a096.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Bug with my sister, who was a bridesmaid:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8355544217/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4098 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4098" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8328/8355544217_6e59210dc1.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Me and my pretty girls!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8355542987/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4110 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4110" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8513/8355542987_10d949b0b1.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8355533137/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0020 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0020" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8075/8355533137_8817a04d49.jpg" height="500" width="375" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8356595446/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0014 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0014" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8363/8356595446_51fb85eb02.jpg" height="500" width="375" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
There was a minor issue with the things the girls were supposed to carry, they were kind of like giant moss balls with flowers stuck in them and must have weighed over 5lbs. There was no way Vi was going to be able to walk and carry it! Luckily the florist was able to put together two small baskets quickly and my girls carried those instead.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8356596818/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0023 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0023" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8503/8356596818_130a484385.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Through the long afternoon there were only a few moments when Vi started to get a little out of control, but nothing major and she was able to regain her composure quickly. It was truly far far far far FAAAAAAR better than I could have even imagined.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8355543131/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_4115 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4115" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8510/8355543131_147467f412.jpg" height="373" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>(For the record, it was freeeeeezing outside!! Poor Vi could barely stand up straight, her muscles get so tight when they are cold. But she still smiled and had a good attitude, I was so proud of her! And Shannon's face pretty much says it all! Ha!)</i><br />
<br />
The ceremony was beautiful and my brother's wife was truly one of the most gorgeous brides I have ever seen in person! We were in a church so, sorry, no pictures. The girls were supposed to stand until her father officially gave her away, but Vi was having a bit of trouble staying in one place so she walked towards me about four times saying "You say something Mama? What you say?" And I would say "stand over there!" And she would say "Oh, ok!" And run back to her spot for about 15 seconds before looking at me again and saying "You saying something Mama? I can't hear you!" And walking towards me. I would whisper "No, Vi, stand over there! Quietly!" And she would say "Oh, ok Mama!" And go back to her spot. Eventually it was time to sit and the ceremony was short and they were quiet. At one point as they exchanged rings she leaned over to me and said "Mama, what they doin'?" And I said "They are getting married!" And with a shocked expression she says "They <i><b>ARE!?!?!</b></i>" Yes. They are, that's kind of why we are here!<br />
<br />
By the time we got to the reception the kids were already fading fast from the late night the day before. We ate some dinner and got to hear my oldest brother give a speech. Pudah made sure to have one piece of both cakes. Edo reveled in the fact that he was nearly as tall as every adult in the room. Both big boys were beside themselves about meeting Brad, one of my brother's groomsmen who plays Halo with them online but who they hadn't seen in person since they were like in diapers. Vi unexpectedly captured the bouquet <i>(And I do mean captured. I really figured it would fly over her head, but it hit a light fixture and fell to the ground smack between her and Sadie, who is 7. They both dove for it....but the fact of the matter is Sadie never had a chance against my scrappy-former-orphan who wasn't letting go of those flowers even if her life depended on it! In hindsight, I probably should have kept her away from the whole thing knowing how competitive she gets, but she was super proud of herself.)</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8356597366/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0025 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0025" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8333/8356597366_4dfa438f85.jpg" height="500" width="375" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
When the music finally started Vi was THE FIRST PERSON on the dance floor!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8355535099/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0027 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0027" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8222/8355535099_6eac0f0ef1.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Pudah followed quickly after to give her a hand. He is such a sweetheart!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8355535381/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0028 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0028" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8474/8355535381_161c75d3c5.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
And so, the girls danced for awhile, and Daddy too. Pudah joined in for a bit as well. Edo made faces.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/9hmdj91s9jU" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
But as ten o'clock rolled around it became clear our little group was nearing the end of their collective ropes and we headed back to our rented house for some sleep. The three littles were passed out in their carseats before we left the parking lot I think. Edo remarked that weddings were very boring, which I suppose they are for 13 year old boys. But I reminded him the day was for Dan & Katie, and we were there to celebrate the beginning of their lives together, to love and support them, not to be entertained. I also said that weddings are alot more fun when you are over 21. :) He seemed to understand, but maybe didn't totally believe me. We may have a future eloper on our hands. Which is totally fine with me, as long as he's over 25 when he gets married. Do you hear me, future Edo??!!? <i><b>TWENTY FIVE OR OLDER.</b></i><br />
<br />
Ahem. Anyways.<br />
<br />
The next morning the plan was to head down to Disney, check in to our hotel and buy tickets at Shades of Green for the super awesome military discount, but this meant we couldn't USE the tickets until January 1st (due to "blackout" dates for the super discount on the tickets), and it was only December 30th. I figured we would spend some time in the pool, check out Downtown Disney etc. for the two days before we actually headed off to the parks. It's Florida, we would find SOMETHING to do, right?<br />
<br />
And here, my friends......This is where the vacation starts to go awry.<br />
<br />
Stay tuned for Vacation Part Two: Disney = Fail!Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-88633266414484220412013-01-06T04:00:00.000-07:002013-01-07T20:02:02.166-07:00No Longer A Baby, but forever THE Baby: Our Baby Man Turns 3<i>*We were on "Vacation" for about 10 days.....although, it was less of a vacation and more of a "Trip I Wish I Could Forget." More on that later though, because first we have something to celebrate!*</i><br />
<br />
It's really amazing to think that 3 years ago today this little man joined our family:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8351057313/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCN4897 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN4897" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8495/8351057313_5bce5d0c5c.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
This littlest-sweetest boy, who isn't tipping any scales but certainly has a knack for capturing the hearts of everyone he meets. At 3 years old he is officially entering "The Preschooler Zone".<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8351228401/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Henry's School Photo (1) by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="Henry's School Photo (1)" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8184/8351228401_617f8ecf2a.jpg" height="500" width="358" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>(His first school photo! Awwwwww!)</i><br />
<br />
His eyes, which were once upon a time bright blue, have continued to evolve over the course of three years in to a green-hazel color unlike anyone in our family. It was a great mystery to me, that his eyes could continue to change color after he turned one.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8352171770/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCN7317 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN7317" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8083/8352171770_ed7901c7b5.jpg" height="500" width="375" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8352179260/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="031712_0026a by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="031712_0026a" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8222/8352179260_2d55b43016.jpg" height="500" width="333" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
But they did. It turns out our Baby Man prefers to do things his own way, in his own time. Milestones and timetables are meaningless to this kid!<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>(For the record if any of you are concerned he has been evaluated by literally every specialist you can think of, from stomach doctors to geneticists, and there is no "reason" he is so small. Lest you should think we have not diligently exhausted every avenue on this matter he is in fact just, <b>perfectly</b>, HIM!)</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://mycamokids.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-home-birth-story.html">From that first morning</a>, when his siblings crawled in to our big bed to greet their littlest brother, he absolutely had every one of us wrapped around his tiny fingers.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8351258121/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCN4957 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCN4957" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8513/8351258121_b3ce7be829.jpg" height="500" width="375" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
As the early months of his life passed it became clear this kid was going to get things done eventually, but only when he was good and ready. He sat up, eventually. He crawled...eventually. He walked, although not really until just before his second birthday (and not without lots of help from our amazing physical therapist!). His speech was a bit slow to develop, but now that he's got the hang of talking he uses it mainly to convince all the bigger people around him to do his bidding. Even though, as you all know, we have <a href="http://mycamokids.blogspot.com/2010/10/nine-months.html">always done his bidding</a>.<br />
<br />
Besides all of that, the biggest thing for our Little Man this year will be getting to spend lots of quality time with his Daddy. After all, the guy has been gone a fair amount of the poor kid's life at this point. We actually sat and calculated it out a few weeks ago and I believe that out of 36 months our baby boy's life, Daddy has been gone for 21 of them.<br />
<br />
Oh, the life of a military child. A little sad, right?<br />
<br />
Don't worry, the two of them are making up for lost time at a rapid pace! First thing in the morning (every morning) you will hear <i>"Hey Mama, where's Papi?"</i> And if Papi dares to leave the room you only have to wait about ten seconds before you hear <i>"Mama, where did Papi go?</i>"And when Papi returns, oh boy, it's like a celebration every single time!<i> "HEY PAPI!!!! I LOOOOOOVE YOU!!"</i> he exclaims loudly as he squishes his entire face on to Daddy's face.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8352117062/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3490 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3490" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8088/8352117062_3942a71f3b.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Yes. It is as cute as it sounds.<br />
<br />
They are spending lots of time together walking the dog, playing angry birds and Fruit Ninja, cooking eggs for breakfast, and making up games about skeletons and spiders and "Fibs from space coming to get yoooooou, Papi!!" (It's from a Veggie Tales episode Baby Man loves). He has become my husband's Mini-me and sidekick extraordinaire. Leaving me to be a clear-and-distant second choice at all times. But you know, I'm ok with that. Like I said, they've got a little lost time to make up for anyways.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8351051161/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3687 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3687" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8190/8351051161_fde320a2e8.jpg" height="374" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I'd like to be able to say the last three years have gone by in the blink of an eye, that I just don't know where the time has gone. However, the honest truth is that two deployments in those three years <i>(three deployments total in 5 years!)</i> has made them feel like the longest three years <i>(5 years!)</i> of my life. I know exactly where the time has gone, because I spent so much of it counting minutes, hours, days, weeks and months until our family would be whole again. The first three years of Baby Man's life will always be some of the hardest years of my own.<br />
<br />
Luckily, our sweet little one probably won't remember much of those times. Luckily, he's got <a href="http://mycamokids.blogspot.com/2010/12/and-best-day-ever-goes-to.html">the next 5 years </a>to get used to having his Papi home for dinner, wrestling imaginary monsters on the weekends, seeing him off to first days of school and taking him on tons of adventures. Luckily, he should be 8 years old before we have to even think about worrying about a Deployment again. <i>*Knock on wood, and all that good luck stuff!!*</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8351187421/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3206 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3206" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8475/8351187421_f22a1aa683.jpg" height="500" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>(Never know when you might need to slay an imaginary dragon on the way to the bus stop! Don't forget your sword!)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
And so today we celebrate. 3 years ago our family grew by one, but our hearts grew immeasurably. Three years later, this precious, darling boy has brought more laughter and love in to our lives than I ever could have imagined. This little boy means more to me than I could ever find the words to say, and even if I'm only second place to him right now I'm more blessed than anyone on this earth because I get to be his Mama.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8351277733/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3415 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3415" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8505/8351277733_988a8b4cfc.jpg" height="500" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;">My Silliest-Sweetest-Littlest Boy,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;">I love you so much!! Your laughter is infectious, your smile is as bright as the sun. We know how much you like to play the "bad" guy, but we all know you'd really rather hug and cuddle any time! You are so special, so treasured and SO very loved. Your siblings all adore you, they clamor for your attention, they love to make you giggle, and they beg for your hugs and kisses.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8351317037/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0052 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0052" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8044/8351317037_56e73d6242.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;">I am so very grateful every day when I see you and your Papi together. There is no better person to teach you how to be the best a little boy can be, and no better example you could follow as you grow in to a young man than your Dad. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8351316939/" title="IMG_0050 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0050" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8370/8351316939_51fa630789.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;">Mama loves you. Even when you only want to hold one finger instead of my hand, even when you have a tantrum because your monkey pajamas are dirty, even when you only eat yogurt for days on end and it makes me crazy. Mama loves you forever and then some.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;">I can't wait to see what this big 3rd year has in store for YOU!!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;">Love Always,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;">Mama</span></div>
<br />
<br />Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-42604101255120460792012-12-25T11:29:00.000-07:002012-12-25T11:29:19.203-07:00Our Very Merry Christmas 2012<br />
Our Christmas morning was awesome!! Vi was super excited, but not like crazy-off-the-wall excited. She was thrilled with every small thing that came out of her stocking, she shrieked with delight when Santa brought her the ONLY THING SHE HAD ASKED FOR: "a pee and poop baby" (Baby Alive....Pretty sure this is the worst toy known to man....and now I have two of them in my house cause Bug wanted one too!)<br />
<br />
Baby Man was not terribly impressed with the proceedings. He didn't seem to really catch on to want to open presents until after everyone else was done. He's not a big fan of chaos, and the shrieking and excitement of the girls seemed to make him just want to run and hide. So, he was opening presents long after everyone else was done!<br />
<br />
Bug was a happy girl, every present was instantly loved and "just what she wanted". She is such a sweet, happy girl, and she was so excited to have her first Christmas ever with a sister!<br />
<br />
We missed our big boys this morning. They are at my Ex's, but we got to see them briefly online this morning. They were happy. And they are excited that they have more presents to open when they get home in a couple weeks!<br />
<br />
The best present (in my opinion!) is that we are going to Disney! My brother is getting married next week and it's in south Georgia so afterwards we will be taking a little detour down to Disney. It should be another really special first for Vi!<br />
<br />
And so, for those who are interested, because I know how much so many of you love Vi and want to share in the joy of her First Christmas, here is a as-short-as-I-can-make-it video of our Christmas Morning! (2 hours condensed down to about 10 minutes!)<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/gD0tywX1vKE" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
Merry Christmas Everyone!!Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-80508798993453481532012-12-24T08:29:00.003-07:002012-12-24T08:29:37.577-07:00Merry Christmas from Our Family to Yours!<br />
I hope you are all enjoying your Christmas Eve! Vi is absolutely BESIDE HERSELF with excitement about her very first Christmas with her family. In our family the tradition is that my Mom always gives pajamas which are opened on Christmas Eve.<br />
<br />
I made the critical error of informing Vi of this tradition at 9 am this morning.<br />
<br />
They have already opened their new pajamas. Clearly, she was not going to wait until night time!!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8303253669/" title="photo (3) by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="photo (3)" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8216/8303253669_04cec6cc93.jpg" width="373" /></a><br />
<br />
Does she look excited to you?? Yeah. Just a little bit!<br />
<br />
Besides that, here is a little bit of what Christmas-time looks like around our house. It's a little insane! Trust me, you don't want to miss Vi's Santa Claus impression!<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ORjEtEwirr0" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
I hope you all have a wonderful holiday full of laughter and love!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: red; font-size: large;">Merry Christmas!</span></div>
Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-87608601306845912902012-12-20T12:36:00.000-07:002012-12-20T12:36:08.420-07:00What is Christmas Cheer?<br />
The check is IN the mail, on it's way to Life2Orphans, preparing the way to make a very special Christmas for some very special children in Odessa!<br />
<br />
I considered posting a picture of said check, but realized it has lots of information like my home address and bank account number that probably don't belong on the internet. So....you will just have to take my word for it. I asked Life2Orphans to send me a receipt when they receive the check so maybe that will be something I can share publicly.<br />
<br />
Along with the check I sent a few photos of Valerie and a short letter to her orphanage director. I am so very much hoping that they will decide to send us some photos of the Christmas party in return.<br />
<br />
It's been a hard week for our country, and (<i>in what seems to be the norm lately)</i> instead of just love and support a lot of contention and blame are circulating instead. I don't have the answers to what needs to be done, but the only answer I have seen so far that makes any sense to me is this:<br />
<br />
<b><i>Be More Kind To Others.</i></b><br />
<br />
This little fundraiser in my little corner of cyber space wasn't earth-shattering or policy changing. But it was a real, manageable, tangible way to make our world just a tiny bit kinder, gentler, and more lovely for a few children for whom it can certainly seem to be a dark and dreary place most days.<br />
<br />
Bringing Valerie in to our family didn't shape the future of our nation, but it did shape the future of her entire life. One life. And it changed all of our lives for the better.<br />
<br />
One life. One act of kindness. One act of giving.<br />
<br />
These things matter. They do make a difference. They do change the world...Even if it is only in your small corner of it.<br />
<br />
Many people have said they don't even "feel like celebrating Christmas" after the tragedy that has unfolded.<br />
<br />
I would say in no uncertain terms that perhaps this is because our americanized-version of "celebrate Christmas" has become so disjointed and conflicts directly with what Christmas should be about.<br />
<br />
When I was young, I had a Grandpa who never sent me a single Christmas present. Not. One. And as a child I can tell you I was resentful as all get out. What did he send, you might ask? Every single year I would get a card in the mail that said <i>"You have given the gift of <a href="https://secure1.heifer.org/gift-catalog">one cow </a>that will change the life of a family in *some country I didn't even know existed because I was 5*" </i> or <i>"You have given a <a href="https://secure1.heifer.org/gift-catalog">trio of rabbits</a> to a family in *some country I didn't even know existed cause I was 7*" </i>You get the idea.<br />
<i><br /></i>
And every year I was just absolutely convinced that this was practically abuse, for my <i>own</i> Grandfather to not send me some piece of crap plastic toy I wanted and instead buy a flipping cow for someone I'd never even met! I mean, How <i><b>could he do that to me?!?</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
Do you know what though?<br />
<br />
For 18 years my Grandfather gave me the only gift that I actually remember to this day. For 18 years, <i>in my name</i>, my Grandfather made a difference in some small corner of the world.<br />
<br />
For 18 years. He celebrated the true meaning of Christmas in my name, when I was too foolish to do it myself.<br />
<br />
I would hope that, in light of what has transpired, we can all be <i><b>IN</b></i>spired to give not just in the exchange of material goods this Christmas, but in ways that can help bring that peaceful feeling to our hearts and a little more good in to our world.<br />
<br />
Whether you choose to donate to a Sandy Hook Family, like the Family of <a href="http://noahpozner.org/">Noah Pozner</a>....<br />
<br />
Whether you choose to find a child with no voice to advocate for and pray for over at <a href="http://static.reecesrainbow.org/angeltree2012/">Reece's Rainbow</a>...<br />
<br />
Whether you choose to support a family who is pursuing an <a href="http://thehutsonfamily.wordpress.com/">adoption of a special needs child</a>...<br />
<br />
Whether you find an elderly neighbor to invite to <a href="http://www.dinnerday.com/FAQ.html">Christmas Dinner (or any dinner!)</a>....<br />
<br />
Whether you decide to put together a care package <a href="http://www.give2thetroops.org/items.htm">for a deployed soldier....</a><br />
<br />
Whether you decide to send someone a <a href="https://secure1.heifer.org/gift-catalog">cow or some rabbits.....</a><br />
<br />
Or whether you already contributed to bring <a href="http://www.mycamokids.blogspot.com/2012/12/9-months-home-operation-christmas-cheer.html">Christmas to a group of Orphans</a> on the other side of the world in Odessa who most of the world doesn't know exists.....<br />
<br />
Find some small way to make the world a better place.<br />
<br />
And I promise you.....it will be a Christmas you never forget.<br />
<br />
<br />
I came across this video today, about a family who has adopted numerous special needs children from various countries. I wanted to share it because it is so inspiring, because it made me cry, and because it just radiates goodness.<br />
<br />
I hope you will take the time to watch it while you ponder over which Random Act of Kindness your family would like to participate in this year.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/55307071?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0&color=00cc99" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" width="500"></iframe> <a href="http://vimeo.com/55307071">New Film Premiere - I Like Adoption.</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user6871850">ILikeGiving.com</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-86614758233490359432012-12-18T13:58:00.002-07:002012-12-18T14:14:21.487-07:00A Lesson In Patriotism<br />
On Friday morning, I was in an elementary school.<br />
<br />
Pudah's teacher had been communicating with me via email and let me know that the class had prepared something for my husband and wanted to know if we could come in Friday morning, the 14th of December.<br />
<br />
On Friday morning, while the unthinkable was happening in Connecticut, we were welcomed in to a 4th grade classroom to the sound of small hands clapping. My husband, in his uniform, was a sight I would wager most of these children have never seen in person: A Real Live Soldier. They were a little awe-struck.<br />
<br />
A huge banner hung at the front of the classroom, a seat with red and blue star ballons had been situated in the center of the room for the guest of honor, Pudah's Dad.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8284331011/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3758 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3758" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8497/8284331011_67352187d5.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
"We have a little presentation for you, if you can just have a seat" his teacher smiling sweetly invited us to sit down. Pudah was absolutely beaming from his desk.<br />
<br />
It was their very own Welcome Home Ceremony.<br />
<br />
"If everyone with a speaking part can please stand" she instructed, and several of the children formed a line, quickly and quietly in the front of the classroom.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/92xFV7FrCM0" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
They gave him a pile of hand made cards, a gift certificate, and sang America the Beautiful in their perfect, innocent, sweet little voices. And red-white-and-blue cupcakes of course, that his teacher got up at 5 a.m. to make for us. Pudah was so, so proud. Tears spilled down my cheeks.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8284331929/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3754 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3754" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8355/8284331929_c7547bb76e.jpg" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8285395020/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3766 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3766" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8485/8285395020_03c87aacf9.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
This was so significant for Pudah. Moving and being in a new school is hard, but being in a community without other military children is even harder. No one understands what they are going through, and no one understands the particular struggles they face as military children.<br />
<br />
His teacher recognized this, and chose to do something about it. She chose to teach her class about Pudah's Dad, where he had gone and what a big deal it was that he was coming home. She made Pudah's sacrifices real and legitimate to his peers. She gave them all the opportunity to see that soldiers are really people....people who are husbands and fathers. What she taught was reflected over and over again as we read through the handmade cards, reading in the children's own handwriting what they had learned about what it means to be a soldier, or a soldier's family:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8284420205/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3830 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3830" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8485/8284420205_1b9700ac75.jpg" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8284422505/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3831 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3831" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8074/8284422505_f5c2e99f0e.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<i>(This one made us both laugh a bit....)</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8285480628/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3832 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3832" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8480/8285480628_519cef193b.jpg" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8285482118/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3833 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3833" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8342/8285482118_6d0ecf2201.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8284421707/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3834 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3834" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8349/8284421707_07b17005f6.jpg" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8284420937/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3835 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3835" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8341/8284420937_fd2ebf1588.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8285481346/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3836 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3836" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8342/8285481346_34708c4876.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
On Friday morning, every thing that is great about our country stood in front of me. My husband....a strong, brave and amazing soldier who protects us and makes us all proud. A dedicated teacher....who takes the time to encourage, support and recognize her student who is facing some unique circumstances while making it an opportunity for a wonderful lesson to the entire class. A classroom....full of beautiful, bright, inquisitive children who are the future of our nation. <br />
<br />
Which gives me a great deal of hope.<br />
<br />
Hope for a better future. Hope that we can find real and lasting solutions. Hope that the love and support extended by those around them to those in most desperate need at this time will be enough to lift and carry them through.<br />
<br />
Hope that good will triumph.<br />
<br />
My thoughts and prayers continue to be with the families of Newtown.Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-61164176810721671952012-12-14T19:08:00.002-07:002012-12-14T19:09:59.106-07:00"Look For The Helpers"<br />
I feel a smothering darkness creeping in to my heart after the tragedy that has unfolded in Connecticut. I am lost without words.<br />
<br />
I have two precious-beyond-description daughters in kindergarten. What kind of monster attacks a room full of kindergarteners?<br />
<br />
It is unfathomable.<br />
<br />
But I came across this photo and caption, and it spoke to my heart.<br />
<br />
I want to share it with you all today as we struggle to find a way forward, to not let the fear of such random violence overwhelm and suffocate us. The words of this man, who is the symbol of innocence and benevolence from my own childhood, ring true in the shadow of so many young lives cut short far too soon. I hope it can speak to all of us, religious or otherwise:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8272544349/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Mr. Rogers photo by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="Mr. Rogers photo" height="385" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8364/8272544349_5373933a8b.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><b><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: inherit;">"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my</span></i></b></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="line-height: 18px;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: inherit;">mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always </span></i></b></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="line-height: 18px;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: inherit;">find people who are helping.' To this day, especially in times of </span></i></b></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="line-height: 18px;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: inherit;">'disaster,' I remember my mother’s words, and I am always </span></i></b></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="line-height: 18px;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: inherit;">comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers - so </span></i></b></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="line-height: 18px;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: inherit;">many caring people in this world." -- Mister Rogers</span></i></b><br />
<b style="line-height: 18px;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b>
<br />
<div style="text-align: start;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
One man committed this atrocity. </div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
Hundreds of thousands have responded, from literal first responders to people all over the world, who have responded with empathy, open arms, tears, broken hearts and an outpouring of love for the community Newtown, Connecticut. </div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
When my own ten year old looked me, tears streaming down his cheeks and asked..... </div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
"How could God not protect those little children?"</div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
All I could do was hold him tightly and say "There is more Good than Bad in the world. There is......There <i style="text-decoration: underline;"><b>is.</b></i>"</div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
May our thoughts and actions in the days, weeks, and months to come prove this to be true.</div>
</div>
Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-46405375191364761312012-12-14T05:00:00.000-07:002012-12-14T09:37:14.296-07:009 Months Home: Operation Christmas Cheer<br />
Vi has been in our family for NINE months!<br />
<br />
To be honest, some days it feels like she has always been here and other days it's still like...."Whoa. There's a Ukrainian at my dinner table!"<br />
<br />
Know what I mean?<br />
<br />
Maybe if you have adopted you know what I mean.<br />
<br />
She is enjoying school, mostly. There's definitely still some power struggles between herself and her teacher. For instance, I got an email yesterday that let me know Vi is spending every morning in the bathroom for over 15 minutes and could I please let her go potty before school.<br />
<br />
Uhm. She does go potty before school. And she never. EVER. takes 15 minutes to go to the bathroom. So, yeah, she's playing you.<br />
<br />
But besides minor stuff like that she's making friends, and she gets physical therapy and occupational therapy each twice per week at school which I can tell has helped her alot.<br />
<br />
Her english is nearly perfect, although we do still have occasional conversations like this:<br />
<br />
Vi: "Mama, I have a friend a school, his name Necklace. That's a funny name!"<br />
<br />
Me: <i>Do you mean NICHOLAS?</i><br />
<br />
Vi: "Yeah, I say that....NECKLACE. Why his mama give him that funny name?"<br />
<br />
Me: <i>No, baby girl, his name is NICHOLAS. Not Necklace.</i><br />
<br />
Vi: "But you WEAR a Necklace, here on your neck. That's not a name!"<br />
<br />
Me: <i>I know it sounds the same but listen carefully.... NICK.......NECK....do you hear it's different?</i><br />
<br />
Vi *shakes her head* "That's so crazy, Mama. Necklace is NOT a NAME!"<br />
<br />
You get the idea. It took approximately ten minutes to get her to accept that his name was not Necklace, it just sounded like it. Although she may have just wanted me to stop talking and still doesn't believe me.<br />
<br />
Naturally, she is also busy getting super geared up for her FIRST REAL CHRISTMAS.<br />
<br />
EVER.<br />
<br />
It is almost impossible to believe that this time last year, she had no idea a Mama and Papa were coming for her. In fact, this time last year WE had no idea we were coming for her!<br />
<br />
(In fact, exactly 12 months ago today I was sitting at the ER with Edo and his <a href="http://www.mycamokids.blogspot.com/2011/12/when-you-forget-to-knock-on-wood-or-er.html">broken-shoulder-self</a>.)<br />
<br />
Now, this year.....she has built gingerbread houses, and picked out a Christmas tree at a tree farm, and met Santa, and made a Christmas List, and got her very own handmade (by my Mom!) stocking, and had a giant Holiday Dinner at Princeton University with her family.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8270277840/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3663 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3663" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8501/8270277840_6d84bd7569.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<i>(This might be my new favorite picture of all time, I laugh every time I see it!)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8270277896/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3673 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3673" height="375" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8200/8270277896_a04e2de212.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<i>(can she actually see?? No one knows!)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8270278382/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3676 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3676" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8059/8270278382_8b47459a9f.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<i>(Learning kindness and sharing! This NEVER would have happened 6 months ago. Or heck, even 3 months ago! She's putting chapstick on her brother, HER chapstick! YAY SHARING!)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8270279778/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3696 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3696" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8065/8270279778_23e1b85daa.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<i>(Searching for the perfect tree)</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8269214623/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3700 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3700" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8213/8269214623_315252eb84.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i></i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8269214929/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3712 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3712" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8204/8269214929_0c0a12bff3.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<i></i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8270280198/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3739 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3739" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8340/8270280198_9aa404487e.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<i>(My little "cell phone bars"! Seriously, someone needs to pick this up as an ad campaign!)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8270280288/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3731 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3731" height="332" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8496/8270280288_3cac77874e.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<i>(Santa came to our church Christmas Party!)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8269216387/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3746 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3746" height="374" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8496/8269216387_a44ee4c36c.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<i>(Vi, enjoying some soup with Grandpa at Princeton. Very fine.)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Not bad, huh?<br />
<i><br /></i>
However. As we move forward as a family and celebrate this oh-so-precious time with our newest daughter.......I can't help but feel weighted down by the reality of all the beautiful children still living in her orphanage. They are still there, waiting and waiting.<br />
<br />
A whole orphanage full of children who won't get to celebrate Christmas. <br />
<br />
<i><b>Unless we do something about it.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
Fortunately, there are still lots of people out there who want to do good in the world. And perhaps even more fortunately this adoption journey has brought me in to contact with more than my fair share of these truly awesome, inspiring, "do what you CAN" kind of people.<br />
<br />
This year another adoptive mom, <a href="http://the-scenic-route-momto6kids.blogspot.com/2012/12/update-to-operation-christmas-cheer.html">Debbie who blogs over at The Scenic Route,</a> has put together a project collaborating with an organization called <a href="http://www.life2orphans.org/cms/">Life 2 Orphans</a>. It gives us the opportunity to SPONSOR Valerie's old orphanage for a Christmas Celebration!<br />
<br />
You heard me.<br />
<br />
We can bring Christmas <i>TO THEM!!</i><br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://the-scenic-route-momto6kids.blogspot.com/">Operation Christmas Cheer</a></b><br />
<br />
This project is to raise $100 per orphanage (there are 35 looking for sponsors this year!) in order to provide small gifts and a Christmas Party to the children who live there.<br />
<br />
It's true, a Christmas celebration won't solve all their problems. Certainly what each one of these children need is a mother and a father and a family. <br />
<br />
I can't give them that.<br />
<br />
But I CAN let them know that <b><i>someone, somewhere, <u>cares</u> about them and has not forgotten them.</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
So. Here is my plan:<br />
<br />
I've got a ChipIn at the top of my blog, with a goal of $100.<br />
<br />
In Ukraine, they celebrate Christmas on the Gregorian calendar so it isn't until January 7th which gives us a bit more time.<br />
<br />
I am going to leave the ChipIn open until December 20th, which gives us one week to meet our goal <i>(or exceed it!! If we raise more than $100 it still all goes to the children of Orphanange #3 in Odessa!)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
On December 21st I will send whatever funds we have collected from my paypal to Life 2 Orphans, marked for our orphanage.<br />
<i><br /></i>
All we need is 10 people to give $10 and we've got it made. If 20 people give $10 we will double our goal and no doubt double the awesomeness of Christmas for these precious babies!<br />
<br />
For the friends Vi had to leave behind, who will spend this Christmas season wondering if their Mama and Papa will be the next ones to walk through those doors just like hers did a year ago....Let's make it one heck of a PARTY!<br />
<br />
Not everyone can adopt. But let's make this Christmas the best one yet for the children of Orphanage #3!<br />
<br />
If you still need convincing, watch this adorable video of our girl and try to imagine what her Christmas would have been if she wasn't here with us.<br />
<br />
And Thank You. For caring, and for helping us to make a small difference in the lives of these children!<br />
<br />
*****<b><i>Edited to Add: THANK YOU to everyone who donated this morning!!! In just a few short hours you donated TWICE the goal amount to the children of Orphanage #3. I have no idea why the ChipIn isn't updating but $210 has been donated for their Christmas party!!I am so awed and humbled by this gracious outpouring of love this holiday season for these children. Thank you, thank you, thank you!! I will mail a check to Life 2 Orphans TOMORROW!!*****</i></b><br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/fOgbw5mp8xI" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
<br />Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-78746719486473368732012-12-12T04:00:00.000-07:002012-12-12T04:00:00.991-07:00Outnumbered<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8263448865/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3535 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3535" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8076/8263448865_935eaa0495.jpg" height="500" width="374" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I've learned a few things through three deployments.<br />
<br />
And one of those things is that when left alone.....I am vastly outnumbered.<br />
<br />
First deployment was 3 to 1.<br />
<br />
Second deployment was 4 to 1.<br />
<br />
Third deployment was 5 to 1.<br />
<br />
You see what I see here, don't you?<br />
<br />
Yeah. Exactly. My husband doesn't need to get deployed anymore, first of all. And second of all, it seems we gain a kid every deployment. Weird. It's kind of a chicken or an egg thing, like do we have another kid because there is going to be a deployment or do we have a deployment because we had another kid?<br />
<br />
Mystery of the Universe.<br />
<br />
Now some of you might argue that even with two parents we are still vastly outnumbered. And while mathematically that may be true, emotionally and mentally it is not. Two parents is twice as many as One. Two parents is twice the Love, And Twice the Crowd Control. When there are two of us working together we can manage anything!<br />
<br />
<i>(Ok, Universe. If you are listening, that's not a challenge. We don't need another kid. Or deployment. Or Random Unpredictable Happenings like wildfires and hurricanes for a little while, mmmk?)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Here is a for instance:<br />
<br />
For instance, this afternoon the girls came back from school. They had some lunch. And Daddy took them out for ice cream <i>(which they had earned by getting ten stars via <a href="http://mycamokids.blogspot.com/2011/02/do-it-your-own-way.html">our awesome chore-chart system.</a>)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
So do you know what I did?<br />
<br />
I sat. I sat and rocked my littlest baby boy. We sat and rocked and chatted about things that little boys like to chat about. Like the rain outside, and how playing with Daddy is so much fun, and outer space, and preschool.<br />
<br />
The house was quiet, and we just sat. And I could not tell you how long it has been since I just had that kind of perfect, precious, absolutely necessary kind of heart to heart time with any of my kids.<br />
<br />
Oh wait. Except I can. About 8 months.<br />
<br />
And last weekend I took my oldest boys, completely on a whim with no planning whatsoever, out to see a movie.<br />
<br />
When you have two parents you can divide and conquer. Conquer homework time, conquer meal times, conquer bed times, conquer melt-down times, and most importantly conquer that special, always sought-after-and-fought-after individual kid time.Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-60018985843523037772012-12-09T11:52:00.003-07:002012-12-09T11:55:13.859-07:00Letters from Team 19: Why Hello there, Soldier!<br />
Yesterday I was woken up by a text message.<br />
<br />
It was 530 in the morning here.<br />
<br />
It was 330 in the morning there.<br />
<br />
It was a moment that, although I had experienced personally a couple weeks earlier with my own soldier, I didn't want to miss.<br />
<br />
The moment that all of Team 19 became whole again.<br />
<br />
The moment when the wives who, for the last 9 months, have been my<i><b> </b></i>team were reunited with <i><b>their </b></i>love and <i><b>their</b></i> hero.<br />
<br />
If you've never been to a military homecoming I can tell you this: There is nothing like it on this earth.<br />
<br />
After the months of waiting, the months of sleepless nights, the months of praying and hoping and dreaming.....the excitement and anticipation in the air is palpable.<br />
<br />
After months of wondering if you will ever see the person you love most in the world again, suddenly.....they march in to the room and you can literally not believe your eyes. Your heart is bursting out of your chest as you search that sea of camo for his face.<br />
<br />
After months and months...they finally call "DISMISSED!" and the crowd of families rushes towards the crowd of soldiers, crashing together in to hugs and kisses and tears of sheer joy and pure relief.<br />
<br />
Dean's situation was pretty complicated with school and having to miss an entire semester due to this unexpected deployment, and so he was sent home a bit earlier with a small group of men who also had various situations that required them to come back a bit ahead of everyone else. Of course, we were beyond thrilled to have him home at long last, and we were beyond blessed to have him home in time for Thanksgiving and his birthday.<br />
<br />
If you remember, that homecoming was very small (5 soldiers total) and looked like this:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8183109092/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" title="DSC_0300 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="DSC_0300" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8344/8183109092_aee87a4cd2.jpg" height="131" width="200" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8257663847/" title="photo (2) by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="photo (2)" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8342/8257663847_574b4ec142.jpg" height="200" width="170" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
However, that sense of complete relief was missing. I was not at ease. And neither was he. How could we be? My friends were still without their husbands, his men were still in Afghanistan. The deployment was not truly over, until every single one of them was home safe and sound. We were so happy to be together, but it was not time to celebrate really.<br />
<br />
Not yet.<br />
<br />
We were waiting.<br />
<br />
For this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8258728434/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Kathy and Lynn by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="Kathy and Lynn" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8478/8258728434_e96c72dae1.jpg" height="500" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8258728374/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Amy and Kyle by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="Amy and Kyle" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8062/8258728374_6468497d3f.jpg" height="500" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8257660713/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Valen andDerek by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="Valen andDerek" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8344/8257660713_3b27e1603c.jpg" height="500" width="450" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<i>(More pictures to be added soon, just waiting for the ladies permission to post them all!! But you know they are probably....ahem....busy!)</i><br />
<br />
Thank you, to everyone who followed our team, who read our letters, who grew to love these families. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers. I hope that this series of letters has given some of you more insight in to the struggles military wives face. And I hope you are as impressed as I am at the strength, resilience, and fortitude of this whole team of women who not only survived this deployment but did so with grace and honor.<br />
<br />
To my Fellow Team 19 Ladies: I love you. You are an inspiration to me, and to everyone who knows you. Thank you for travelling through this journey with me, for being my friends. From that first get together at Nichole's, through so many ups and downs, cook outs and crazy conversations, ultrasounds and spa days, through wild-fires and ER visits, to middle of the night text-fests when our worst fears would creep up on us.....to this Moment. When finally, <i><b>finally</b></i> every Team 19 soldier is home safe and whole.<br />
<br />
We have all grown so much and come so far and I am so incredibly proud to know each and every one of you.<br />
<br />
I hope you each know how amazing you are and I hope that, even though we all know how much deployment <u style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">sucks</u> that you can also carry away with you this silver lining:<br />
<br />
The knowledge that we truly are a beautiful, strong, courageous, team <i>(slightly)</i> crazy and (<i>most definitely) </i>"<a href="http://www.mycamokids.blogspot.com/2012/04/team-19-takes-spur-ride.html">bad-assery</a>"group of women.<br />
<br />
Welcome Home, Team 19!Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4712534729111995034.post-20007272693501519102012-12-05T13:23:00.005-07:002012-12-05T13:38:08.063-07:00Under Pressure<br />
I've learned a few things through three deployments.<br />
<br />
And one of those things is that being the spouse of a deployed soldier creates an enormous amount of pressure.<br />
<br />
Every day things become more difficult to deal with when, in the back of your mind <i>(and often in the front of your mind)</i> you are wondering "What if someone is trying to kill my husband....like Right. Now?!?"<br />
<br />
When you are standing in line at the grocery store and the person in front of you has 5000 coupons, or you are holding your child who is having a tantrum for the 5th time that day, or your mountain of laundry has failed to fold itself yet again, or your 13 year old breaks their arm, you know....<a href="http://mycamokids.blogspot.com/2012/10/well-thats-one-way-to-get-out-of-art.html">Again</a>.......These things that really aren't huge-life-altering things can take on a huge-life-altering feeling when you view them through the lens of the pressure created by Deployment.<br />
<br />
The thing is, you don't even realize how much pressure you are truly under when you are in the thick of it. You don't realize that your reactions to mostly harmless things may be blown way out of proportion, you don't recognize how your every day events have been colored by the pressure which has only built steadily up over the course of months and months. You are coping, of course, the best that you can. But this isn't a normal way to live, this cycle of single-parenting and unimaginable worry. The life where doorbells make your heart stop beating and nightmares you are afraid to speak of keep you awake well in to the night along with knowing that no matter what you do for your kids that during a deployment it is never "enough". Because no matter what you say or do your 5 year old will still look at you as you lay her down to sleep and ask in a desperate, shaking voice "Daddy IS going to come home....right, Mama?<br />
<br />
You can't fully comprehend what it has been like. Until it's over.<br />
<br />
Until the burden is lifted.<br />
<br />
Until one afternoon when your husband has been home for about a week and your 13 year old looks at you somewhat quizzically and remarks <i>"Mom....you look so.....happy?? What's up with that?"</i><br />
<br />
In that moment that you might finally recognize just how heavy the burden was. But only because you aren't carrying it anymore.<br />
<br />
Sorry about that, kiddos. I promise....I did my best.<br />
<br />
We should be seeing a lot more of Happy-Fun Mom in the near future.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50552459@N03/8248302088/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_3463 by RangerPrincess, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3463" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8209/8248302088_7caa0903b0.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />Lorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12514992909586849215noreply@blogger.com7