You'll most likely notice a few less posts popping up here in the next little bit. Sadly, the p17 shot that has held off my normal early dilation has ceased to perform it's magic, and I found myself in Labor & Delivery triage yesterday morning. Seven is 28 weeks baked, which is a very good place to be--far, far better than the 19 weeks gestation we were at when Logan started trying to make his way into the world. At any rate, it's time for me to spend the majority of my days lying on my left side, drinking oodles and oodles of water, thanking God for the chance to do this all again, and generally doing nothing but baking a baby to the point where he or she will be as healthy as possible when it's showtime.
We're nowhere near a critical juncture at this point (praise God!) and 4 more weeks is all it will take to deliver a baby with excellent chances for full health and a minimal NICU stay. Still, your prayers for Seven are more than appreciated. If you feel led, prayers also for our older children--who have thus far shouldered more responsibilities without a grumble--and for Mr. Blandings--who is being both Momma and Daddy right now--are coveted. Thus far, the Lord has been in full control of this miraculous journey, and we have faith that He continues to walk ahead of us.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
Oliver
placed February 29, 2008, adopted June 25, 2010Psalm 68:4-6
Sing to God, sing praise to his name,
extol him who rides on the clouds —
his name is the LORD—
and rejoice before him.
A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows,
is God in his holy dwelling.
God sets the lonely in families,
he leads forth the prisoners with singing;
but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land.
After 28 months of waiting, we stood in a cramped courtroom, a whole line of us. Oliver rode my hip, his little legs fumbling to find purchase either over or under my growing belly. Mr. Blandings stood at my right side with Manolin comfortably perched in the crook of his left elbow. Down the line, the other children stood, solemn in their Sunday best, a little nervous, not sure what was expected of them.
"Raise your right hand," said the clerk.
Five hands raised. This had been a family affair from the start; the older children had just as much a part to play in this moment as anyone.
The judge smiled. This was her lunch hour, after all. She had given up her break to sign four adoptions on this day--a lavish gift of the court system that slashed weeks from our wait time. She eyed Jo, Atticus, and Logan carefully, then beamed again.
"Is this your brother?" she asked.
"Yes, your honor," they all answered.
Someday, I will tear up at the weddings of my children. But on this day, the tears were for a different kind of union. "Is this your brother?" "Yes, your honor." Are there any sweeter words? He is my brother, not by blood or bone, but by everything that is important in this world.
God sets the lonely in families. He does not just give them parents, he does not simply offer them a roof over their heads. Instead, He hand picks a home in which to take root, a place where we are surrounded and known, where we are loved and cherished.
God sets the lonely in families. Today, Oli got his.
"Raise your right hand," said the clerk.
Five hands raised. This had been a family affair from the start; the older children had just as much a part to play in this moment as anyone.
The judge smiled. This was her lunch hour, after all. She had given up her break to sign four adoptions on this day--a lavish gift of the court system that slashed weeks from our wait time. She eyed Jo, Atticus, and Logan carefully, then beamed again.
"Is this your brother?" she asked.
"Yes, your honor," they all answered.
Someday, I will tear up at the weddings of my children. But on this day, the tears were for a different kind of union. "Is this your brother?" "Yes, your honor." Are there any sweeter words? He is my brother, not by blood or bone, but by everything that is important in this world.
God sets the lonely in families. He does not just give them parents, he does not simply offer them a roof over their heads. Instead, He hand picks a home in which to take root, a place where we are surrounded and known, where we are loved and cherished.
God sets the lonely in families. Today, Oli got his.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Worth the Wait
Tomorrow is going to come, just like the 114 other Fridays that have dawned since Oliver first came into our lives.We will wake up, go downstairs, eat breakfast, do chores.
It could be any other Friday that has passed since February of 2008.
But this Friday--tomorrow--is Oli's Adoption Day.
Tonight is the very last time I will tuck in "someone else's son." Because as of tomorrow, he is ours. Fully, legally, wholeheartedly ours.
I couldn't be happier.
A few weeks back, I began making preparations for this big day. I scanned adoption blogs and etsy shops and whatnot, looking for ideas to commemorate everything that is burbling in my heart as we prepare to finally claim Oli as our own. As I looked, one phrase stood out among the crowd: "Worth the Wait." Yes, that sums up our entire experience. All of the visits, the social workers, the court hearings, the CASAs, the paperwork, the physicals, the evaluations, the training. The whole package ... it was all one big wait. But Oli? Worth it. Worth every minute.
So I contacted a talented friend and asked if she would take a custom order for an item or two that shouted our thoughts to the world. She agreed, and you can see the results above, or on her blog, the Blissful Stitcher. They turned out so well that I think she's offering them as a general sale item now. The blue is for Oli, the brown is for Mani. I know that, traditionally, adoption proceedings are fancy-get-up affairs but, well ... we're not a fancy get-up family. What we are is a forever family. And that, my friends, has been worth the wait.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Be the parent
This is a hard post to write. I'm pretty sure that it will ruffle some feathers, appear judgemental, or maybe even result in some nasty comments. But maybe, maybe it will encourage someone on the fence. Maybe it will be used by the Holy Spirit to convict someone who's been feeling a tug they can't name. Maybe it will shore up someone's sagging confidence in what she feels called to do. If any of those things happen, well ... I'll be grateful to God for nudging me to write what I feel uncomfortable putting out there.
Why, why, why do so many parents--and yes, I'm talking about homeschoolers here-- feel like the moment their child passes through some magical, invisible line, they cease to have the power to actually parent said child?
Really. What is that?
Why is it that it's o.k. to tell a 9 year-old that you don't allow certain words to be said in your house, but that's denying a 14 year-old his right to expression?
Why do you actually take the time to meet the friends that your 10 year-old likes to spend time with, but not even know who your 16 year-old is texting?
Why is having standards of modesty for a 6 year-old acceptable, but the 12 year-old can wear whatever she brings home from the mall?
Why do you take the time to teach the 3 year-old that temper tantrums are not o.k., but let your 13 year-old slam their bedroom door in your face?
Please don't think that I'm living in la-la land. I know that parenting a teen is a whole different ballgame from parenting a preschooler. I am not unaware of the fact that the parent/child relationship grows and (hopefully) matures. I am not expecting a high schooler to blindly obey or to bow to every whim of their parents.
No, that's not what I'm saying at all. What I am saying is that so, so many people I know seem to just throw their hands up in the air the minute their child hits an age that even remotely resembles independence.
Every event, activity, etc., becomes a drop-off affair. The mom who led the Brownie troop never even darkens the door of the youth group. Standards become incredibly lax. The dad who required his son to open the door for girls and ladies suddenly doesn't mind the same child talking to his mother through a closed bedroom door. Fitting in with peers becomes more important than following family rules. The family used to forgo rated-R movies, but all the other kids have seen it, so why not? The youth pastor suddenly takes over the spiritual education of the child. Those family Bible times are a thing of the past. And, worst of all, parenting becomes non-existent. "I wish she wouldn't do X, Y, or Z, but it's not like I can stop her..."
I have been so disheartened over these past few weeks listening to fellow homeschooling parents with children on the cusp of their teen years. The vast majority of them seem to have already assumed a defeatist, hands-off type of approach. I've heard, on more than one occasion a parent lamenting the peers their child has fallen in with, the poor instruction in the youth group, the behavior of their new teen. You know what every. single. parent. followed their complaints up with?
"All I can do is pray I guess."
Excuse me? All you can do is pray? Obviously, all parents need to be praying for their kids, no matter what their ages. And I don't just mean those generic, "help her to be a good person, Lord," kind of prayers. Specific, directed, goal-oriented prayers that help the Lord hone your vision for His vision--those are the most effective parenting prayers, imo.
But beyond that, do you have any control? Of course you do. Be the parent. If your family has rules, enforce them. If you feel led to have specific expectations, keep them. Respect your child's newfound independence and sense of self, yes. But still require him or her to be a loving, working, functional part of your family.
Please don't get me wrong. I do not ascribe to the theory that has all children bowing to their parents in all things up until the day of their wedding. I firmly believe the axiom "Rules without relationship equals rebellion." I don't expect the kind of mindless obedience that some Christians impose in their homes. Growth, freedom, and maturing are good things. They are part of God's design. I'm not talking about stifling any of that.
What I am talking about is staying involved. Asking questions. Not assuming that your teen (or pre-teen) is ready to handle anything and everything simply because he or she has graduated to youth group or has a double-digit age. Be the parent.
How? Volunteer for whatever activities your child is involved in. Not every week, but on a regular enough basis that you know the leaders, the routine, and the other kids attending. Keep a family devotional time going. Now is not the time to let that slide! If anything, this is the most important part of the discipling process--moving from general knowledge to real application! Maintain a sense of respect for your child, and also insisting that he or she respect you (and your rules). Insist that family stay more important than peers by nurturing sibling relationships. Read a book together that inspires you to walk forward into the teen years with a shared vision. (I recommend "Do Hard Things," but there are many others). And remember: Rules without relationship equal rebellion. Having your child's heart makes all the difference!
Doing these things is no assurance that you won't find yourself on your knees praying for a prodigal. God gave all of us free will, and that includes your kids. You can do all of the "right" things and still find yourself doing the heavy lifting of parenting a child who is simply lost, who abuses drugs, who makes you a grandma before you're 40.
But if you've been the parent, at least you can say you did your part. Your heart will still be broken, and your faith will be stretched ... but in the end, you will hear, "Well done, good and faithful servant."
Remember, God will hold you accountable for the job you did stewarding the blessing he entrusted to you. Not your child's peers. Not the church's youth pastor. Not Hollywood. Not the author of the latest book fad. Not society at large. YOU are the one given the job of raising your child to adulthood--and it doesn't stop until that child really and truly is an adult. If you wouldn't want your 14 year-old getting married, then he or she isn't an adult. If you can't say the same thing for your 20 year-old, the same thing applies.
Be the parent. All the way.
Why, why, why do so many parents--and yes, I'm talking about homeschoolers here-- feel like the moment their child passes through some magical, invisible line, they cease to have the power to actually parent said child?
Really. What is that?
Why is it that it's o.k. to tell a 9 year-old that you don't allow certain words to be said in your house, but that's denying a 14 year-old his right to expression?
Why do you actually take the time to meet the friends that your 10 year-old likes to spend time with, but not even know who your 16 year-old is texting?
Why is having standards of modesty for a 6 year-old acceptable, but the 12 year-old can wear whatever she brings home from the mall?
Why do you take the time to teach the 3 year-old that temper tantrums are not o.k., but let your 13 year-old slam their bedroom door in your face?
Please don't think that I'm living in la-la land. I know that parenting a teen is a whole different ballgame from parenting a preschooler. I am not unaware of the fact that the parent/child relationship grows and (hopefully) matures. I am not expecting a high schooler to blindly obey or to bow to every whim of their parents.
No, that's not what I'm saying at all. What I am saying is that so, so many people I know seem to just throw their hands up in the air the minute their child hits an age that even remotely resembles independence.
Every event, activity, etc., becomes a drop-off affair. The mom who led the Brownie troop never even darkens the door of the youth group. Standards become incredibly lax. The dad who required his son to open the door for girls and ladies suddenly doesn't mind the same child talking to his mother through a closed bedroom door. Fitting in with peers becomes more important than following family rules. The family used to forgo rated-R movies, but all the other kids have seen it, so why not? The youth pastor suddenly takes over the spiritual education of the child. Those family Bible times are a thing of the past. And, worst of all, parenting becomes non-existent. "I wish she wouldn't do X, Y, or Z, but it's not like I can stop her..."
I have been so disheartened over these past few weeks listening to fellow homeschooling parents with children on the cusp of their teen years. The vast majority of them seem to have already assumed a defeatist, hands-off type of approach. I've heard, on more than one occasion a parent lamenting the peers their child has fallen in with, the poor instruction in the youth group, the behavior of their new teen. You know what every. single. parent. followed their complaints up with?
"All I can do is pray I guess."
Excuse me? All you can do is pray? Obviously, all parents need to be praying for their kids, no matter what their ages. And I don't just mean those generic, "help her to be a good person, Lord," kind of prayers. Specific, directed, goal-oriented prayers that help the Lord hone your vision for His vision--those are the most effective parenting prayers, imo.
But beyond that, do you have any control? Of course you do. Be the parent. If your family has rules, enforce them. If you feel led to have specific expectations, keep them. Respect your child's newfound independence and sense of self, yes. But still require him or her to be a loving, working, functional part of your family.
Please don't get me wrong. I do not ascribe to the theory that has all children bowing to their parents in all things up until the day of their wedding. I firmly believe the axiom "Rules without relationship equals rebellion." I don't expect the kind of mindless obedience that some Christians impose in their homes. Growth, freedom, and maturing are good things. They are part of God's design. I'm not talking about stifling any of that.
What I am talking about is staying involved. Asking questions. Not assuming that your teen (or pre-teen) is ready to handle anything and everything simply because he or she has graduated to youth group or has a double-digit age. Be the parent.
How? Volunteer for whatever activities your child is involved in. Not every week, but on a regular enough basis that you know the leaders, the routine, and the other kids attending. Keep a family devotional time going. Now is not the time to let that slide! If anything, this is the most important part of the discipling process--moving from general knowledge to real application! Maintain a sense of respect for your child, and also insisting that he or she respect you (and your rules). Insist that family stay more important than peers by nurturing sibling relationships. Read a book together that inspires you to walk forward into the teen years with a shared vision. (I recommend "Do Hard Things," but there are many others). And remember: Rules without relationship equal rebellion. Having your child's heart makes all the difference!
Doing these things is no assurance that you won't find yourself on your knees praying for a prodigal. God gave all of us free will, and that includes your kids. You can do all of the "right" things and still find yourself doing the heavy lifting of parenting a child who is simply lost, who abuses drugs, who makes you a grandma before you're 40.
But if you've been the parent, at least you can say you did your part. Your heart will still be broken, and your faith will be stretched ... but in the end, you will hear, "Well done, good and faithful servant."
Remember, God will hold you accountable for the job you did stewarding the blessing he entrusted to you. Not your child's peers. Not the church's youth pastor. Not Hollywood. Not the author of the latest book fad. Not society at large. YOU are the one given the job of raising your child to adulthood--and it doesn't stop until that child really and truly is an adult. If you wouldn't want your 14 year-old getting married, then he or she isn't an adult. If you can't say the same thing for your 20 year-old, the same thing applies.
Be the parent. All the way.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
I get questions ...
After getting duplicates of several questions via email, I thought I'd post the answers here in case anyone was pondering the same things. Also, if you have a question you think I might possibly have an answer to (keeping in mind that I never said I was an expert on anything), then post it here ... you never know ... I might just answer!
Are you planning on adopting more kids?
Ah, good question. One that I know my mother-in-law would like answered definitively, that's for sure! The present answer is that there's nothing in the works at this time. With a court date for Oliver and one being set for Manolin, we'll be turning our attention to getting Bee's visa. From there, who knows? We are at capacity for foster care with 6 kids in our home 13 or under. We could get a special dispensation for a sibling placement, but since no sibs are currently forthcoming, that's not something we're thinking about. We have opted to keep our foster license, however.
If you had to go back and start all over (meaning: with your first placement) would you still adopt from foster care?
You haven't seen pictures of my little boys yet, so I can forgive you for asking this one! :-) The answer is YES. Two and a half years is a small price to pay for the life and love of a child.
Are you rich?
Depends on who you're asking. The truth is that if my older kids were in school, we'd qualify for reduced price lunches. However--we have found God to always be amazingly faithful in providing for our needs. On Mr. Blandings' salary, we are able to feed and clothe our entire family, keep a roof over our heads that is "small" by US standards but enormous by the standards of the rest of the world, and support work that expands God's Kingdom. Oh, and we have fun, too. I think that qualifies us as rich, don't you?
Are you one of those up at 5 a.m. moms?
Hardly. The truth is, I love to sleep. I do it well. I do it often. And I do it for longer stretches than the average momma! I am generally in bed by 9:30 p.m., listening to the sweet sound of my husband doing our nightly Bible reading. I conk out pretty quickly though, so my morning Bible reading is actually a repeat of what Mr. Blandings read the night before! And when does that morning reading take place? No earlier than 6:30 a.m., guaranteed.
Is your husband really on board with having all of those kids? My husband won't budge on having more than 2/3/4.
My husband wasn't always thrilled at the prospect of a large family; truth be told, it wasn't my idea of a good time, either. Like most things in the Christian walk, God slowly worked on both of our hearts to get us to the point where the idea of "one more" wasn't anywhere near as scary as it was on the day we said "I do." Nowadays, I can fully say that Mr. Blandings would have two dozen children if God asked him too. It'd probably be me with the slack jaw and the disbelief at the prospect!
Do you really use everything that you review?
Yes, I do. I couldn't in good conscience recommend a product that I hadn't personally tried. This is one of the reasons why I find giving verbal recommendations so hard--people will ask about things I haven't used, and I have to issue so many qualifiers about "what I've heard"!
Are you planning on adopting more kids?
Ah, good question. One that I know my mother-in-law would like answered definitively, that's for sure! The present answer is that there's nothing in the works at this time. With a court date for Oliver and one being set for Manolin, we'll be turning our attention to getting Bee's visa. From there, who knows? We are at capacity for foster care with 6 kids in our home 13 or under. We could get a special dispensation for a sibling placement, but since no sibs are currently forthcoming, that's not something we're thinking about. We have opted to keep our foster license, however.
If you had to go back and start all over (meaning: with your first placement) would you still adopt from foster care?
You haven't seen pictures of my little boys yet, so I can forgive you for asking this one! :-) The answer is YES. Two and a half years is a small price to pay for the life and love of a child.
Are you rich?
Depends on who you're asking. The truth is that if my older kids were in school, we'd qualify for reduced price lunches. However--we have found God to always be amazingly faithful in providing for our needs. On Mr. Blandings' salary, we are able to feed and clothe our entire family, keep a roof over our heads that is "small" by US standards but enormous by the standards of the rest of the world, and support work that expands God's Kingdom. Oh, and we have fun, too. I think that qualifies us as rich, don't you?
Are you one of those up at 5 a.m. moms?
Hardly. The truth is, I love to sleep. I do it well. I do it often. And I do it for longer stretches than the average momma! I am generally in bed by 9:30 p.m., listening to the sweet sound of my husband doing our nightly Bible reading. I conk out pretty quickly though, so my morning Bible reading is actually a repeat of what Mr. Blandings read the night before! And when does that morning reading take place? No earlier than 6:30 a.m., guaranteed.
Is your husband really on board with having all of those kids? My husband won't budge on having more than 2/3/4.
My husband wasn't always thrilled at the prospect of a large family; truth be told, it wasn't my idea of a good time, either. Like most things in the Christian walk, God slowly worked on both of our hearts to get us to the point where the idea of "one more" wasn't anywhere near as scary as it was on the day we said "I do." Nowadays, I can fully say that Mr. Blandings would have two dozen children if God asked him too. It'd probably be me with the slack jaw and the disbelief at the prospect!
Do you really use everything that you review?
Yes, I do. I couldn't in good conscience recommend a product that I hadn't personally tried. This is one of the reasons why I find giving verbal recommendations so hard--people will ask about things I haven't used, and I have to issue so many qualifiers about "what I've heard"!
Monday, June 14, 2010
Signs of summer
Jo enjoying an amazing PNW sunsetThe garden is fully planted and growing, and all of my kids have feet stained with grass and dirt from days spent running barefoot in the back.
I guess it's summer. I never quite know when it hits, since the thermometer rarely dips above 80 until well into July here in our little corner of the world. Instead of gauging by temperature, I have to look for other signs that the seasons has shifted.
What are your signs of summer?
Saturday, June 12, 2010
My backyard
You know the one thing that really, really worried me when we moved from Georgia to Washington? Every. single. person. I encountered was Caucasian. And I don't mean "Italian-American" or some other ethnic background that you could kind of peg as being part of the melting pot experience. No--everyone was homogeneous, white, and essentially lacking in any cultural identity outside of the good old Red, White, and Blue. This was startling, having moved from an area where we were decidedly in the minority, where the bulk of children in Jo's preschool class were African-American or the Spanish-speaking children of migrant workers.
I realize that not all of WA is the same. There are large concentrations of Japanese-Americans in Seattle, and a reasonable representation of Mexican-Americans moving out toward my neck of the woods. The rest of the state, I can't speak for. All I know is what I see in my library, grocery store, and church. And what I see is mostly white, sprinkled with a less-than-generous handful of the darker browns of African-Americans.
Seeing this and wondering how it would affect our children in the long run, Mr. Blandings and I set about purposefully creating as many multicultural friendships as possible for our kids. Some have been a success, and some have been marked failures. There were times when we wondered if we were crazy. "No one else worries about this," we thought, "Why are we making such a big deal out of it?"
But today, I saw some of the fruit as I watched my three very pale Irish and German descended biological children play in our back yard. Participating joyfully in the elaborate village-building pretend game was a Nepali girl, two Latino children, and a girl recently adopted from Ethiopia.
It almost brought tears to my eyes. This is what the Sunday School song meant when it talked about "all God's children." Beautiful shades ranging from alabaster to brown. Children whose first languages range from English to Amharic, from Spanish to Nepali. Playing. Enjoying one another. Getting along. Seeing no differences--only friends to share an adventure with.
I am not a huge fan of the "it takes a village" mentality. I don't believe that the government--or my neighbors--are responsible for raising my children. But I do believe that we ARE a village. God created a gorgeous array of cultures and peoples and languages. Raising our children to be comfortable with the many different flavors of life that He created does nothing but add another layer to His glory, I believe. Taking the time to weave ourselves fully into His colorful fabric has to bring Him even more joy than I feel watching my 8 year-old call out soccer plays in Spanish while learning how Ethiopian children kick balls barefoot.
Life is beautiful.
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