Year 2. Let's Do This!

Here we are.  year 2 of our stay here in london.  year 2 of our time in st. nicholas preparatory school.  year 2 of a fun family adventure together.  to think how quickly the first year went by makes me scratch my head in wonder.  where did the time go?  how could it go so quickly?  and at this rate, if every year goes by so quickly, i need to hang on for dear life, because all those older mothers who said, "cherish each moment, it goes by in a blink..."  well, maybe they are right...

today was the first day of school for my big three.  reese and maddox started year 2 and zane started reception.  i can hardly type through my tears.  they seemed so big, so determined, so ready, so proud and so strong.  each one, in their own way, was ready to tackle this day full on.  maddox, with his words of wisdom as he helped his little brother put on his proper school clothes.  zane no longer in his gym kit uniform from last year, but rather his school uniform, "just like maddox's".  he could not wait to get it on.  and he was so ready to hear maddox teach him how to put each piece on.  reese, my sweet girl, more quiet and timid than the boys, steadied herself as she carefully put each piece of clothing on, just right.  she took great pride in telling me how she wanted her hair this morning.  she expressed her joy over having a teacher that she was excited to meet and get to know.  

Daddy and the gang.

Outside of our flat.

Zane wanted a funny picture.

So did Maddox.

Reese wanted a "good picture".
She didn't have any interest in
the boys' shenanigans today.

when we asked the kids who their teachers were, reese knew right away, maddox had to think for a bit, but remembered quickly and zane's simple reply was, "i have no idea".  (and clearly didn't care!)

Maddox, our courageous child,  was the first to volunteer to go to his class.
Here he is with his teacher, Ms. Edge.

Reese was the next to go.  She was excited to have a "tiny teacher".  
Ms. Garland is really small and Reese thinks it's so cute.  I'll have to
remind her that dynamite comes in small packages...

Zane was taken lastly to Ms. Jacqueline.  I've heard she is a
strong teacher and keeps the kids in line...is there any wonder
why Zane was placed in her room?

now that they are all in their classrooms and i've had time to go to the gym, give echo her lunch and put her down for a nap....it all seems so quiet.  if i thought i was about to lose my cool on the bus ride after dropping them off at school, i'm certainly losing it now.  i have to have time to breathe, to cry, to look at their pictures and to hear the stillness of this house.

i've had time.

i'll have more time.

much more time while they are away this year.  i'll have time to ride around the city, go see some museums, try new foods, read some books, see new sights, visit more landmarks, see more plays, cook better dinners....(okay, let's not get too far ahead of ourselves).  i've realized that this is year 2!  we said we'd be here for about 2 years and we are IN IT!  this is it.  i want to make the most of it.  i want to enjoy it.

here we go.

year 2.

let's do this.

First Day of school 2011.  Looking a little unsure.

First Day of School 2012.  Wow, what a
difference a year can make!

Guess who starts St. Nicholas in January 2013!?  Get ready!!!

Silence Has A Sound

i'd never really thought about whether or not silence made a sound.  i mean, seriously...it's a difficult thing to try to wrap your brain around.  silence making a sound?  that's just weird.

it was the first morning after we'd landed.  i'd woken up early and decided to go ahead and get up before everyone and have my first cup of coffee.  this is not normal for me at ALL!  i love my sleep and unless i'm getting up to go enjoy boot camp at 5:30 am, you better bet that i'm going to be in bed.  not to mention that my all-time favorite part of the day is when the kids come into my room and get into bed with me and we snuggle for the first part of our day.  one by one they trickle into my bed and we snuggle until i have all three.  then i get up and get echo and breakfast begins. and all the craziness begins as well.

but on this morning, i got up and got that coffee.  i quickly realized how QUIET the house was at that moment.  actually, heath and i had gotten in the bed the night before and been a little freaked out by the eerie silence.  where were the fire trucks?  where were the cars?  where were the porters talking on the phone at the front of our flat?  where were the dogs barking or babies crying on their way to the park?  where was the city noise?

the silence was deafening.

reverse culture shock.  we were right in the middle of it.

so, to wake up to more silence was a bit freaky.  i walked around rooms of the house, looking at things that i'd missed, pictures i'd not seen in quite a while, furniture i'd not sat in, walls i'd not touched.  it's silly, but i was a tad emotional.  how could i miss london and all of it's chaos and yet adore the beauty and luxury of living in a quiet, suburban town?  how could i miss all that noise?  how could i miss hearing the rubbish being picked up at 7 a.m. on a saturday morning....okay, i didn't miss THAT!

you know, i kinda felt like the bachelorette, being in love with two men at one time.  haha!  one is comfortable and safe, warm and kind.  the other is exciting and action packed, fun and wild.  how could i love such opposite things?  how could i love both?  (strange analogy, i know.)

i sat at my back window for quite a long time.  just thinking.  just listening to the silence.  and the silence seemed to have a sound.  a familiar, sweet sound.  one that i'd not heard in awhile.  it was calming.  soothing.  refreshing.  it was beautiful.  memories came flooding back of things that have already happened in this house.  we had not lived here long until we packed up and moved away.  i thought of all that we have to be thankful for here and there.  what we have to be thankful for in our silence as well as our noise.

i'd remembered buying this house only a couple of years ago for many reasons but one big reason was this window.  the view was spectacular and i wanted to wake up every morning to such happiness....

i'm not sure how long i'd been sitting there in the window, when i heard my early bird coming down the stairs.  the pitter patter of maddox's little feet was the break of my silence and i turned to him with a grin from ear to ear.  he quietly came over and sat by my side and began to look out the window with me.  we sat for a bit and then he asked, "what are you doing here, mommy".  i replied, "sitting here listening to the silence and waiting for you."

not long after that, reese came down.  normally she is a late sleeper but the jet lag forces us awake sooner than we'd like in the first few mornings back.  she came and sat down with us too.  and asked, "mommy, what are you doing?"  and i replied, "sitting here with maddox, just looking outside and waiting for you."

we started to talk about memories of this window, nothing as sentimental as what i'd been originally thinking.  no, they were asking, "do you remember when that bird hit the window and blood was on the window?"  "mommy, do you remember when that tiny bird (a humming bird) flew into the screen and daddy had to hammer it's beak out with that book."

yep, sentimental just flew out that window.....oh well.

by the time zane had come down to join us, we were all doubled over laughing about the funny memories that had happened right where we were sitting.  and here we were....making another memory!  this will be added to our list.  maybe not as memorable as the bloody bird or tiny beak but it will still be somewhere in our memory bank.

i've looked out that window each morning since we've been here.  it's a window that makes me so happy.  it's big and bright and beautiful in the mornings.  the window makes my coffee taste better.

i've not relished another silent morning since that morning.  i've not sat in the silence and listened to the stillness.  it's been the usual hustle and bustle from that day forward but i still look out my window and know that silence makes a really lovely sound.  a captivating and riveting sound that i can't quite put my finger on.

i love living in london.  i love the crazy, constant movement.  i love that the city is alive at every moment of every day.  i love it.

and i love my sweet, soft marietta.  i love the stillness.  i love the silence.  i love that families hunker down together in the evenings and sleep in silence.  i love that the town seems to be "on hold" for a few hours each night.  i love that it feels as though time stops.  i love it.

is it possible to be in love with both?  i believe so.  i'm in love with both.  do i know where my heart truly belongs and will eventually end up?  absolutely.  so when we return to the hustle and bustle of that big city and take in the sights and sounds all over again, i think i will appreciate it even more.

because i know that my silence waits here for me.  i know the sound of silence.  and i will relish it again in my return.

Find rest (wait in silence), O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him.  psalm 62:5

It Takes a Village

you know the phrase, "it takes a village to raise a child"?  well, i'm starting to understand it a little better.  i'm starting to embrace it a little more.  here is the thing, i have a tendency to be controlling.  yep, control is good for me.  it makes me feel large and in charge.  i like to know where everything is in my home, i like to know what everyone is doing in my family.  i just have a need to be ever so slightly....in charge.  and most moms would agree that we truly feel that no one can raise our children like we can.  no one can run our household as well as we can.  no one can clean or put things away as well as we can.  not even close.  we, as moms, are the best.  right?

so, even though i know the common phrase, "it takes a villiage", deep down, i never truly believed it.  until recently.  

our lives have been turned over and over, left and right, upside down, backwards and forwards in the past year.  with three, already young children, we took on little echo and then moved out of the country.  and i, deep down, thought that we could do it on our own.  okay, i knew we would have the help of God.  that goes without saying.  but, other than that, i felt like we could manage it.  

but slowly i started to see my control leaving me.  we decided that it might be a good idea to hire a nanny while in london.  and we did.  back in the states, we had already asked some amazing people to live in our home and care for it while we are abroad.  and as picky as we are...these people are even picker!  they are neat-freaks at its finest!  but i soon realized that, not only was i no longer in control of it all, i wasn't in control of much of anything.  i actually felt very out of control.  

*insert freaked out mother here*

we came home to the states a few weeks ago, our family of 6, nanny with us, and "house guards" all under the same roof.  it's such a funny sight and sound to be in our home these days.  four young children tearing through the house, our australian nanny with her beautiful accent and our awesome columbian family speaking in spanish to one another.  i'm here to tell you, it's amazing to say the least.  and i have learned that THIS is our family right now.  this is what we do, this is how we live, this is what works for us right now.  

are things done exactly the way that i want?  no.  not always.  but then, sometimes they are done even better.

can i walk around in my underwear these days or leave a bathroom door open while nature calls?  nope.  but it's where we are in life right now.   

my children spent time with my parents last weekend while heath and i attended a fun event with friends in tennessee.  when i came to pick them up, they had a million stories to share about what they had done.  playing in a creek, reading bedtime stories and learning the game of chess with granddaddy.  stories about how grandma had dropped a ball, it rolled down the hill and into the road where a car ran over it.  the kids told me that it was okay though, "grandma said she didn't like that ball anymore, anyway."  they told me about my sister, cherish, coming over and bringing her boys so that they could spend the night all together at my parents' house.  oh my, i'm sure that house was full...and FUN!  the stories that they told me were hysterical.  they had the best time!  do i believe that things were handled the way that i would handle them?  nope.  even though i gave my mother strict, well-written directions on what to do with echo, do i believe that she followed them perfectly?  nope.  and i'm glad.  my children experienced something special with their grandparents and it's partly due to the fact that they were out of their routine.  they were experiencing something new and different.  

after picking the children up, we went straight to the beach to meet up with heath's parents for a week of fun.  usually when we go, it is constant madness, from the moment we wake up, get the kids fed, sunblock on, suits on, beach bags packed, kissed a few boos boos, put a couple (or all four in time-out) and kids out the door and to the beach or pool.  and it was still constant chaos.  but this time, this time...i had time to sit!  time to watch them play, time to talk to other adults, time to relax and breathe.  all i could think about as i watched the kids being thrown around by their pappy and hearing their grandmother laugh was, "wow, it takes a villiage to raise these kiddos.  look at how happy everyone is!"  not only did we have heath's parents but we'd taken along our nanny!  we actually had more adults than children for once!!!  it was a beautiful thing.  

did i have complete control?  nope.   

now ask me if i minded one tiny bit...  no way!

last year we took the kids to the beach and we barely brought back any pictures.  i think we managed to take 6 pictures and they were in our condo.  no beach pictures.  it was our tiny family of 6 and we had no time (or energy) for pictures.  i clearly remember last year trying to go to dinner with this "new" family (keep in mind, we'd only had echo for a month)  we tried to take them to the pool.  we tried to take them to the beach.  we tried but i remember once we finally got down to the beach or pool, someone had to go to the bathroom, one of them had fallen and skinned their knee, somebody needed a nap and had pooped their diaper, someone was whining and at least three wanted to be carried.  and let's not forget all the beach/pool paraphernalia that one must take when toting children.  chairs, balls, floats, towels, food, diapers, sippy cups...the list goes on.  multiplied by four.  i'm not sure how much fun heath and i had and i'm not even sure we were very successful.  we'd brought them all home alive so we felt like this was an achievement. 

i do remember telling my mom that i was exhausted from the so called vacation.  i needed a vacation to recover from the vacation.

this year, we took pictures.  we played at the beach AND pool for at least four hours each day, echo got her naps, we went to dinner and we ENJOYED.  it will certainly be a trip to remember.

you know, our family has been blessed in so many ways.  big and small.  we've had a chance of a lifetime to go and live in another country and see parts of the world that i'd only read about.  yes, we've been blessed.  but we've been blessed far beyond the travel, far beyond the trips, far beyond the fantastic adventure of it all.  we've been blessed with amazing people in our lives.  we have a family that loves us and is, not only there when we need them, but who genuinely want to be with us.  they truly love us.  and we've been blessed to have special people placed in our lives to help get us through this crazy time.  people who are willing to care for our children, care for our home and ultimately...care for us.

during our prayer last night, maddox wanted to "pray for our family".  he named our family members one by one and without missing a beat, included the names of our nanny as well as the names of the people living in our US home...

so, the fact that i open a drawer in my home and can't find a certain cutting knife or sippy cup is not such a big deal.  the realization that i may not be the one to kiss a boo boo or that i can't be there for every funny story is okay.  the moment when heath is caught in his boxers by one of the females living in our home...it's okay.  it's all good.  this is our life.  our crazy, adventurous life.  i can't do it all.  i was never intended to do it all.  i'm not in control and i'm still learning that maybe i don't want to be totally in control.  divide and conquer, right?  

it takes a village.

Beach Babe

These three loved the ocean this year!

Have Mercy!

i am home with the children for the week.  heath is traveling.  so, this weekend, i've been full on.  tonight at dinner, i was running around, meeting the needs of the children.  reaching left and right to hand them the things they needed to begin their meal.  keep in mind, our london kitchen is tiny.  it's the size of our kitchen island back in the states!  the 3 older children sit up in bar stools while echo sits at a little table in a little chair.  i stand and eat.  but, it's probably better that way because every time i try to sit, someone needs something anyway.

as we were finishing eating, maddox spilled a huge cup of milk and immediately starts to say how sorry he is.  maddox has the most sensitive heart of any child i know.  he felt terrible.  as i saw the mess of the milk go all over him, all over the table, the chairs, the cabinets, the walls...even a bit went on zane!  i'm telling you, this cup must have bounced fifty times before it finally landed on the floor.  i stood there speechless, defeated, worn to a tither from the day's events of playing, disciplining, birthday partying (yes, i'd taken them to an outdoor birthday party in the park, heaven help me), cooking, cleaning....cleaning, cooking.  so i stood there.  speechless.  i took one look at maddox and told him he needed to get into the shower.  i marched him back to the bathroom, put him in the shower and told him to wash his whole body and i would come back for him.

as i was leaving, i could here him say, "even my hair!  ahhh, man!"

in the back of my mind i knew this was a complete accident.  he was sorry immediately.  i knew this, and yet, i still could not speak.  i was oddly calm which i think freaked maddox out even more.  all i could think about was how i was going to clean up all that milk!  i had gotten to the kitchen when i heard maddox yell out that he was done.  i knew there was NO way he had washed his body, even if it is a tiny body!  i ran back and asked him if he washed his entire body.  "yes" was his timid reply.  i asked if he'd washed his hair.  "yes" was, yet again, a very weak reply.

he was fibbing.  i turned into a cyclone at that moment.  i think my head, torso and legs went in three directions as i told him, yelled rather, that there was no way he'd washed and i knew that he was not telling the truth!  he started crying and then told the truth.  he had only gotten his body wet.

shocking.

i marched, stomped, back up to the kitchen and began to clean the mess as he remained in the shower to clean up his own "mess".  after he was finished, i told him to come up and watch me clean the rest of the kitchen.  cruel and unusual?  maybe?  did it make an impression?  yep, i think so.

i'm thinking he'll probably hold that cup a little tighter and make sure he tells the truth next time.  it's just a hunch.  being a cyclone mom has it's advantages.

after the clean up, we hugged and talked about the situation.  i told him that i was only annoyed by the spilled milk but the lie made me angry.  very angry.  "i don't accept you telling me things that are not true.  i'm your mother.  please be honest with me."


he cried a little more, maybe just for dramatics, i'm not sure, gave me a huge hug...and asked if he could go play his DS...ugh.

later that night as i was praying with the children, i gave thanks to God for his kindness, love and mercy...after i was finished praying maddox asked "mommy, what is mercy?"  after stuttering over my words and floundering for a bit, i told him that it's being forgiven and getting mercy from God, that even when we do things wrong and make mistakes, God loves us and has mercy.  he forgives us and we don't have to suffer the consequences of the mistake.  he forgives us and washes it clean.  maddox's reply was, "well, mommy, can you have mercy on us next time we make mistakes?"

really?

did he just say that to me?

i had to stifle my laugh.  don't kids say the darnedest things?  just when we think we can't take anymore they come out with something fantastic like that.

maddox and i had a really good conversation further about forgiveness and mercy.  we talked about unconditional love and what that meant.  i'm not sure that he absorbed it all but i think a lot of it went in pretty clearly.

later i googled mercy and this is something that i found:

"Mercy is like a judge finding you guilty, but then withholding any punishment. Grace is getting something you could never have imagined. An inexplicable gift. It's like the same judge awarding you $10,000,000.00, after finding you guilty!"

wow, i'd been thankful for the mercy...but i forgot about the grace that he gives also.  not only do we not pay for our mistakes if we know Christ, but we get His grace as well....

it's a pretty good deal.  i can see why maddox asked for it.  he's a smart kid.

now i sit here thinking, after all that happened tonight.  all that we talked about, all that we cried about, all that was learned.  will he spill the milk again one day?  absolutely.  he'll spill milk a million more times...not always milk, but you get what i'm saying.  he will always do something wrong.  and there will be more times (cringe) that he will lie to me.  will it make me angry?  yep.  will i be upset?  of course.  will i still love him?  without a doubt.  there is nothing that can separate my love for him.  he's my child.

i believe that God feels the same for me.  i constantly make mistakes.  after my mistakes, unlike maddox, there have been times that i'm not quite sorry.  i knew it was wrong but i did it anyway.  and there are times, that not only do i not say i'm  sorry but i lie about it.  i don't go to Him with my mistake.  i try to cover it up from Him.  and He knows the truth.  He knows.  and after i come to Him and tell Him the truth, what does He do?

He has mercy.  He cleans up all that spilled milk. but on top of that, He gives me grace.  no matter how big the mess is.

he cleans the mess, hands me another cup of milk and, on top of that, an oreo cookie to dip into the milk.

why?

because i'm His child.  and nothing can separate His love for me.

thank God.  because my mistakes have been a lot bigger than a little bit of spilled milk.  i've hurt others much more than a few splashes of milk flying across their shirt.  and yet, God forgives, forgets, and moves on.

i am so glad that we, as humans, have the capacity to love, to forgive and to move on.  God made us in His image and i believe that is why we have the ability to do the things that we do, to feel the way that we feel.  because we have some of our Father in us.

now, the kids are all asleep.  i'm beat.  i think i'm going to go have a nice cold cup of milk.

"But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."  Romans 5:8

Disappearing Act

you can disappear pretty easily in this city.  it's not difficult.  i do it almost every day.  i walk out my front door, say "hello" the porters outside of my flat,  i pass the starbucks baristas who wave to me and sometimes i pass a couple of familiar faces on their way to the gym.  if it's raining or a lucky day, i may pass my homeless friend, david.  but once i hit kensington high street and into that multicultural sea of faces, i'm just another speck on the street.  and i kinda like it.  actually, there are many days that i love it.  don't get me wrong, i certainly miss running into any number of friends and family at target back home in the states, or seeing a friend drive by in their SUV with their windows rolled down taking their children to one of many places around marietta.  i love all of that too.  but sometimes it's nice to disappear.  it's nice to be in the background. to be anonymous.

last week, i had a really good friend over with her children for a play date.  i don't do a lot of play dates because my children live their lives in a constant play date.  that's all they do, the four of them together.  they play all day with one another.  i cater to their needs of bathroom breaks/diaper changes, snack times, lunches, juices, organized playing and unorganized playing.  yes, it's a constant play date around here.  so when i do decide that we are going to actually have some friends over or go to their place, it's a big deal.  i know it will change as they get older and more independent but right now, it's a family event, i go over with them, i stay while they play, then we all go home together.  and sometimes, especially here, our play dates are a package deal...you invite one over and i might just have to bring all four!  so little play dates can easily turn into big parties!

i was excited about this play date for good reason.  not only do my children really enjoy the children coming over to play, but i adore the mother bringing them.  it was a time for us to hang out and chat as well.  i love a good chat with a good friend.  and best of all, we laugh.  i really love a good laugh so i was thrilled to have her over as well.

we've grown to be friends in the last year and i love the fact that i have a friend in this city.  she, too, is from the states and living here for a couple of years so we have that in common.  we have several things in common and we have several differences as well.  as much as i adore my friends who i have everything in common with, i can also appreciate a good friend who i don't have everything in common with.  one that can challenge me.  and can be challenged by me.  it helps me see myself more clearly and i really like that.

we've known of our differences for quite some time.  little things, the obvious, she's taller with fantastic long legs and i'm....less tall.  she's from the north, i'm from the south.  and then there are the less obvious, i believe in Christ, she does not.  we've had a couple of discussions over this and i'm always interested to hear her view of things.  on the afternoon that she brought her girls over to play, i tried to do more listening than talking.  goodness knows, i have a big mouth so i'm not sure how it all turned out from her view point but i wanted to hear her side of things.  i wanted to know her thoughts, her heart.  i wanted to know why someone who had grown up catholic all her life could turn from a Father who loves her more than she could ever know.  had there been an occurrence?  was it that she slowly left God or did she up and decide in one brief moment?

as it turns out, we have some different views on our faith.  different views on the bible, different views all the way around when it comes to spirituality.  this is a challenge for me because i'm not the most eloquent speaker.  i don't have verses from memory that i can quote.  and i'm not a history buff who can explain how the bible falls into our historic knowledge.  how the two, history and the bible actually DO coincide with one another.  and the idea of how science explains things vs. the bible.  oh, don't even get me started...even though i've learned how they also coincide with one another...i still can't interpret it back.  and i know several of my friends who can do any of these things, if not all of them.  how i wish i had that gift but i end up fumbling over my words, wracking my brain for the right verse to share or staring blankly when history or science is brought up.  it can be frustrating at times to know there are answers...and to not be able to give them.

these conversations have led me to do more thinking, more questioning of myself, my belief, my spirituality, my faith.  and all of this has helped to draw me even closer to God lately.  for that, i'm thankful to this dear friend.

one night last week, i was in the middle of my prayer and it hit me.  the feeling that i just wanted to disappear from all of this.  there is so much that i want to say.  i haven't explained myself well to her, i haven't explained God well enough to her, i haven't done this...i haven't done that...i haven't.....it's all too difficult.  it was in that moment i prayed to just disappear from the situation.  and then i realized that, yes, i need to disappear so that God can be be more clear.  i need to do less worrying and more trusting.  i need to be still.  be quiet.  so i can hear.  He will eventually answer in His own way.  and i truly believe that when God answers our calls...He answers big.  He answers mightily.

sometimes i get so caught up in what i'm doing, what i'm saying, how i'm doing it, when, where, why....that i don't trust that God is doing it all.  yet again i realize that i can't lead.  so why don't i just sit back and follow?  wouldn't that be easier, wouldn't that be more fun actually?  just follow God and stop taking control?  to keep my eyes set on Him?

this city is a big beautiful sea of faces.  i see them everywhere i go.  there are moments when i feel bigger than life, having a blast, enjoying each moment, experiencing each new and exciting event.  and there are moments when i feel so small, this world, this life is bigger than me.  so much bigger.  and i feel it especially here in london.  i feel small.  and then...there are moments when i feel as though i've done a disappearing act.  i've completely vanished from it all.  i'm not only one in a million, but i'm one in a zillion, one in a million-zillion...i'm too small to be noticed, too tiny to be seen.  it's reassuring to know that i may be super tiny in this great big world, but i am amazingly, inconceivably, outrageously important and big in my Father's eyes.  i am loved beyond measure.  i'm heard and i'm seen at all times by a loving Father who wants desperately for me to see Him.

there are a lot of reasons why i love to disappear in this city.  but i think my favorite is when i disappear and God appears.  it's in my smallest, tiniest, weakest moments that He can be huge.  so i think i'll stay tiny for a bit longer.  i'll continue to listen and follow.  i'll continue to love as unconditionally as my human heart can.  and i'll give it over daily so that God to be huge.


"When you were in trouble, you called, and I saved you.  I answered you with thunder".  
Psalm 8:17

The Wheels On The Bus

the london bus.  i have a love/hate relationship with the bus.  and the drivers.  i love the bus for the ease and excitement.  i hate it for the fear and distrust.  when i travel alone or with heath, i love the bus.  when i travel with the children, it completely freaks me out.  we've been here for almost a year and i still can't quite get over the my bus issues.  and with good reason!  i've had my run-ins with the buses and drivers.  if you live here and you ride a bus regularly, you've had run-ins as well.  it just goes with the territory.

first of all, pedestrians do not have the right away over here.  if you see one of those big, red buses coming your way, you better move!  because it's not going to stop.  i'm actually okay with this to a certain extent.  i mean, think about it, the bus driver is responsible for all of his passengers.  if he slams on his brakes for one person, then he puts all of his passengers at risk for injury as well.  however, when you are the one about to see red paint across your face and tire mark across your tail, you think twice about what it right and wrong for that bus driver.

i've made jokes about playing "frogger" in the streets.  i'm pretty good at it.  i don't play the game when i have my children with me.  we make sure and go when the "green man" appears on the light.  we DON'T cross unless that green man appears.  as a matter of fact, when the kids are with me, i've been known to walk an extra 10 or more minutes to find a proper light that has the green and red man.  i will not cross without those men.  there are too many little hands and feet around me to try and cross a road without having certain "permission".  and i want to make sure that i'm the legal one, that i have the right of passage.  because, if, in case, there is any sort of accident, i'm going to go buck wild on someone's head and i need to make sure that my behavior holds up in court after i've gone crazy.

there are few moments that make me laugh, like yesterday when we were getting off the bus to go to school and i noticed that zane had dirt and black stuff around his mouth.  what could that be from?  he was totally clean when we left the house?  we haven't had time to get dirty?  we've only been on the bus......NOOOOOOOO!  zane had put his mouth all over the bottom of the window while riding on the bus.  agh!  this makes me want to projectile vomit just thinking about it.  so, i just wiped him clean once we got to school, laughed about it and went on my merry way.

there was also the time that my iphone was stolen out of my back pocket while i was distracted by the accomplice.  this was not so funny...

there have been a few incidents lately that have shaken me to my core.  i'm usually a pretty relaxed individual.  happy, a bit carefree....okay, maybe i am on the outside.  i'm wound up pretty tight on the inside when it comes to my children.  i try to relax but they just mean too much to me to relax.  and did i mention all the little hands and feet?  some days i feel like it's twice as many as what they actually have!  they just make continuous circles around me.  and when we are entering and exiting a bus, it can be exhausting.

a couple of weeks ago, we were on our way to school in the pouring rain.  we saw our bus was stopped and already loading people so i told the kids to pick it up a bit.  i don't want them to run to the bus, but we need to step it up.  i was strolling echo and had reese by my side.  the boys rushed up to the bus to go ahead and hop on.  the driver, as little zane was getting on, closed his doors on zane!  zane and maddox were so close to the bus and i yelled for them to back away.  as i yelled, the tasmanian devil came out of me.  i put my arm out to the children and told them,  "stand behind echo's stroller".  (look out, here comes big mama) remember when i said i would go buck wild on someone's head?  well, this day, it was on the bus driver.  i began to slam my fists into his door, literally kicking and screaming at him for closing the doors on my children in the rain.  he simply turned his cheek to me and drove off as i kicked his doors.  now, i'm not proud of this.  and i can't believe that i let myself get so crazy, but it happened.  it happened.

when i returned to the children standing in complete shock they began to ask questions like, "mommy, did you just kick the bus?"  "mommy, are you angry at that bus driver?"  "mommy, were you screaming at the bus driver?"  "mommy did you almost break his door down?"  and as i heard their questions, i saw another mother who looked at me with such understanding.  she even told me that bus drivers do things like that all the time.  well, i bet, but how many times does he have a mama chase his bus down while kicking and screaming?


the most recent incident (and i'm so happy to say that it did not result in an accident) was a couple of weeks ago.  and the reason i write about it now and didn't write about it then is because i couldn't get a grip on how to type it out.  i didn't even know where to start, how to get it out.  i can't really make a joke about it, like a usually do with situations.  because it was a moment in time that i desperately wish didn't happen or that i could take back.  i've lost sleep for many nights.  maddox didn't sleep for 3 nights afterwards.

i shake as i type.

a couple of weeks ago, we were getting off the bus, like we do every day after school.  usually, it's a non-event to get on and off the bus.  i make sure that the children get off the bus first and i count them as they jump down, sometimes i even count out loud.  yep, i'm a freak.  so once the boys had jumped down, reese realized that she'd forgotten her thermos at the back of the bus and ran back to go get it.  i had echo in her stroller and told reese to grab it.  this only took seconds.  it only takes seconds....suddenly, the bus doors closed and the driver started to go.  i stood in complete horror as my mouth dropped open and i saw my boys on the outside of the bus, me and the girls on the inside driving away....i saw maddox's eyes.  wide open.  those eyes.  the shock.  the fear.  oh, the fear.  and i saw my little zane running for the bus.  running to the bus!  he wanted back in.

i could hardly think but in my mind, i knew that zane running to the bus plus those big wheels did not equal anything good.  i think the blood drained from my face to my toes.  it certainly felt that way.

my heart was racing, panic stricken, i could not form words, i could not use my voice.  i could hear and see reese screaming and banging on the glass doors screaming, "no, my brothers!  no, maddox!  no, zane! my brothers!"  (you have to know reese is very protective of them both, when we are getting on a lift or an escalator, she makes SURE they are on! this was one of her biggest fears, to leave her brothers behind).

and in my weakness, all i could do was think, "no, oh my God, my dear Father, please no...."

and truly, by the grace of God, zane did not make it to the doors, or the wheels of the bus for that matter, before three men jumped up from their seats and ran to the driver yelling at him, "stop, there is a mother on here and her children are not on the bus"  others were screaming, "stop the bus!!".  thank God those men had a voice.  saw the situation.  and reacted.

and so, this panic stricken mother was able to get off the bus.  i've never been more solemn or more shaken.  i don't even know if i muttered a "thank you" to those men.  i dizzily ran back to my boys, knelt down and just squeezed.  squeezed.  and i still had no voice.  no words.  i'm not sure i was even breathing.  i may have taken that first breath to inhale the scents of their heads, their hair, their "boy" smell that i so love.

i cry as i type this.

i still have not gotten over it.

i'm not sure when i will.

the burning eyes of maddox, the complete panic of zane, the screams of reese for her brothers.  my stomach goes into knots when i think about it.  the helplessness that i felt makes me queasy.  

i write this blog today because i need to get it out.  i need to write it down.  i need to purge.  this is what keeps me up at night.  this is what wakes me from my sleep.  it grips me, it suffocates me, it swallows me up at times.

i pray for God to take the fear from me.  and i know He will once i finally let Him.  once i give it up and let it go.  and i will, but my stubbornness  clings so tightly to hold onto it.  the memory.  the fear.  the panic.  it's all so fresh, so real, so raw.

you know, there is a verse in the bible that talks about how when we don't know what or how to pray, the Holy Spirit prays for us?  i love the verse.  it's mind boggling to me.  i can't wrap my brain around it.  it's crazy to think about but it's also reassuring to me.  i've had times in my life that i don't know how to pray, what to pray for, where to begin.  but knowing this verse, it gives me comfort knowing that the Holy Spirit has it all under control.  He says the words that i can't come up with.

i'm forever grateful for those men who stood up and yelled,  who knew what to say when i could not, they had words, voices, LOUD and CLEAR voices when i did not.  i've never seen or heard people react like that while i've been on the buses.  i'm so grateful.  and it makes me think, that in my weakness, when i can't speak, when i can't form words because i'm too afraid, too vulnerable, too weak, the Holy Spirit can be just as clear, as loud and as direct as those men where that day.

this gives me great comfort.

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.  Romans 8:26

The Luckiest One

one year ago we held echo for the very first time.  two chinese nannies brought her through a curtain "door" and dropped her into my arms and walked away.  one year ago.  i remember it as if it were the birth of a child.  it was our day.  our moment.  our time.  only ours.  no one knows what we felt, except for the two of us.

every year when i awake to the birthday of one of my children, i have a bitter-sweet feeling.  that breath that i take that says, "ahh, we made it another year".  this year, on echo's second birthday, april 2, i tried to have that feeling.  i wanted it.  but it was different.  not any less special, not any less worthy than my other three.  but it was different.  and i could not put my finger on it.

this morning, our Gotcha Day, i woke up at 4 am and had the feeling.  that "ahh, we made it.  our first year".  today was the day that echo and i shared together.  our day.  the birth of "us", "we".  today was that day.  and i truly felt that bitter sweet feeling.  but with it came another feeling or thought.  i couldn't help but send up a prayer, a question.

"how did You pull all this together, Lord?  when did You begin to tie us together?  was it only last year?  was it the 15 months before when we started the adoption process?  was it during our years of infertility?  was it college, when i was completely interested and thrown for a loop with the whole "nature vs. nurture" concept?  when was it?  and why?  why her?  why us?  why me?"

i've gotten several comments over the last couple of years saying that echo is so lucky.  and she is.  she has 3 amazing siblings, a home, a family, a warm, soft bed at night, food to eat.  oh, she is very lucky.  but the thing that is so amazing is how lucky we are to have her.  she is bright, she is healthy, she is beautiful, she is sweet, she is funny, she is loving....she completed our family.  she was our missing link.

for several years before we brought echo home, i would see asian girls out and about.  some young, some adolescent, some older, some were even very old.  and i could not help but wonder, "where is my little girl?  does she look like you?  doe she act like you?  will i stare at her the way that i desperately want to stare at you right now?"

now that i have echo, i know what she looks like.  i know how she acts.  oh MY, do i know how she acts!  i know so many things about her.  i've caught myself several times in the city walking by an asian girl and smiling to myself.  i no longer have to wonder.  i no longer have to think.  i no longer have to ask the questions.  because i have her.  my girl.  my daughter.  she is home.  she is mine.  i get to watch her grow.  and with God's grace, i will get to watch her grow into that old woman.

lucky.  it's so difficult to hear sometimes.  she came from such an unlucky place with such an unlucky story.  but the day we met up a year ago, it turned around for the both of us.  for our whole family.  we became the luckiest of them all.  we found one another.

if you've ever considered adoption.  looked into the face of another and thought you could possibly love outside of your comfort zone, outside of your "own".  i encourage you to dig deep into your soul.  pray.  allow yourself to be guided.

echo is certainly one lucky girl.  reese, maddox and zane are lucky as well.  they all have one another, they have love in their family.  but i have to think that i am the luckiest.  the most blessed.  really, luck has nothing to do with it.  it is not by chance that we were put together.  it's all one big fat blessing.  and i have the biggest blessing of all.  an indescribable, incomparable, unimaginable kind of blessing.  a random little asian girl, and a random crazy caucasian family were knit together by The Big Guy, himself.  we came together and we are a family.  the luckiest and most blessed of all.

and now i'm off to bed.  because tomorrow is a new day, no longer our Gotcha Day.  just a regular old, crazy mad, insignificant, temper tantrum, food throwing, time-out sentencing, running around, ear piercing, tiring old day.  yep, it will be day one of our journey to reach our Gotcha Day anniversary number 2.  nothing so lucky about that....or is it?