Surprise Pictures!

It's been a crazy Saturday, and I was totally not intending to blog tonight...

...BUT WE GOT NEW PICTURES!!!

I opened my email today to a surprise mini-update on our Li'l Man.  A sweet woman who visited his orphanage last month was able to meet him and give him a treat and some cuddles.  Here's what she wrote about him.

"Really cute little one.  Solidly built.  Came over to me took the cookies.  Cried and then went away.  Brought them back for me to open.  Sweet and cute as a little bear.  Very fast walker.  Cried when I picked up but the second I set down stopped.  Playful and engaged."  

She also sent three pictures, but they're pretty similar.  Here's the best one.

The first thing I thought when I opened these was, "He's growing so much!"  He really does look more grown up in these pictures, and he's getting chubby little cheeks.  His wardrobe still needs some work, but we're working on that.

Can't wait to hold this little man! 

 

Best Friends

You know that saying?  The one about dogs being man's best friend?

Well, when it comes to Li'l Miss and Li'l Pup, it's totally true.

They are best buds, no question about it.

They love to share hugs.

And...uuummmm...yougurt.

(Don't fall for that face; she's sooooo not innocent.)

I think, sometimes, one of these crazy girls forgets she's a human dog.

Yup, the saying is definitely true at our house: Li'l Miss + Li'l Pup = BFF.

Check-Up Time

Li'l Miss had her four-year check-up this morning.  It's been on our calendar for a while, and this mama has been watching its impending arrival with great trepidation.  

Nope, I wasn't dreading the shots (only because there usually aren't any at a four-year appointment).

No, I wasn't freaked out about the 57 questions regarding Li'l Miss's development.

And, no, I'm not weirded out by doctors' offices.

I was worried because Li'l Miss's three-year check-up went something like this...

DOCTOR: Hello, Li'l Miss, it's nice to see you today.

LI'L MISS (falls on the ground convulsing and screaming): WWWWAAAAAHHHHH!

Seriously.  It was so. not. fun.

I thought it was bad when the doctor gagged her while attempting to catch a tiny glimpse of the back of her throat.  When he turned to me and asked if she often throws fits at home, I pretty much wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

So...I was not too excited about Round 2 this year.  

I spent the last couple of days bribing convincing Li'l Miss that her doctor is actually a really sweet guy who wants to help her be healthy and strong.  I told her all about the ice cream cone she'd get if she managed to avoid total meltdown his two kids and how he's taken care of her since she was a teeny, tiny baby.

And, it actually worked.  She did A.MAZ.ING.

(Of course, it might not have been my clever bribery arguments that did the trick.  It could just be that my baby girl is growing up - way. too. fast.)

Here's a picture of my big four-year-old - who, in case you happen to be interested in such random facts, is 40-3/4 inches tall (75th percentile) and weighs 36 pounds (50th percentile).

 (If you can't tell, she was not really into my impromptu photo shoot.)

Here she is deciding she's totally done with getting her picture taken.

The only part of her appointment that was not-so-great was finding out that her pink eye is making a reappearance and that she also has an ear infection I had no idea about.  (Yup, just call me Supermom.) 

There were no tears until the very end...when she had to get a shot after all.  And that, actually, was the very best part of her check-up.  Because the shot she got is for typhoid, which you don't get if you're just going to be hanging around in the good ol' USofA.  You only get a typhoid shot if you're going to be traveling.  You know, traveling to someplace far away.

Like China. :)

VACATION!!!

We actually arrived home from vacation two weeks ago today.  Since then, a small person with pink eye, a big person with a fever, and the general we're-home-from-vacation-the-fridge-is-empty-and-no-one-has-clean-socks craziness have pretty much filled my time.  (Oh yeah, there was that holiday and that birthday party squeezed in there too.)

So, while life has been just a touch c-r-a-z-y, we did have a wonderful vacation and I wanted to share a few of my favorite pics.  (I know I promised birthday pictures, and I will post those soon.  Truly!)

We spent six days in northern Michigan with Jeremy's family.  I had never been there before, and I loved it.  (Not so sure I would love it six months from now, but it was absolutely beautiful in June!)  

What's not to love about someplace where you can do this every day?

Li'l Miss was absolutely ecstatic to have her cousins living right upstairs.  They entertained themselves for hours catching bugs in the yard of our rental house.  I don't have any pictures of their adventures in the yard, but here are a few cute shots of the three "big" cousins.

 

 

We got our fill of time in the water, which was awesome because Water + Kiddos = BLISS.  We spent a day exploring the dunes and splashing in Lake Michigan, as well as time in the pool, at an indoor waterpark, and just hanging out at the lake near our rental house.

Some of our other favorite moments included fishing...

...riding a ski lift - you can actually take your mountain bike up and ride back down, but we decided we weren't up for that much adventure...

...and hanging out with Grandma and Grandpa (of course!).

It was an amazing week, and we are so thankful to Jeremy's parents for dreaming it up and inviting us to go along.

Now Li'l Miss just has to learn to survive without her buddies living under the same roof.

 

My Four-Year-Old Birthday Girl

Today my sweet, funny, inquisitive, crazy princess turned four.  She pretty much burst out of her bedroom this morning telling the world how excited she was to be four. years. old.  (She followed that up with a major crash into the corner of the coffee table that left her with a bloody eyelid one hour before her party.  Ack!  It turns out that playing Cinderella and trying to walk with one plastic heel on our hardwood floors is not a happy plan.) 

Li'l Miss, I am so blessed to be your mama.  I wouldn't trade that gift for anything: an easier life, simple answers, a road with less bumps - anything.  I love your questions, your kisses, your tan little arms wrapped around my neck.  You are forever my baby girl, no matter how big you grow.

Last year on Li'l Miss's birthday, I shared her birth story.  Her daddy and I gave her a hardcover photobook that tells this story for her first Christmas.  I know many of you may not have had a chance to read it (or might just be up for reading it again *ahem* mom *ahem*).  So here it is....

(For all of you who want to see the slightly bloody princess, I promise to post pictures on Monday.  My crazy life is finally slowing down, and I will have time to blog.  Really.)

 

Daddy, Mommy, tell me again about when I was born.  Tell me again how you had waited and waited and waited for a baby, and how you could barely sleep after you heard that I was coming on July 7.  Tell me about how your friends and family were so excited to meet me that they bought all kinds of presents and some of them even helped get a special room ready for me.

Tell me again how Grandma and Grandpa came over and helped load up the car with two gigantic suitcases; a bunch of snacks; a green tent; six bottles of Mountain Dew for Daddy; lots of teeny-tiny baby clothes; almost a million diapers; and my stuffed teddy, Owen.

Tell me again how you crossed a big river, drove over tall mountains, and stopped to spend the night in our green tent at a campground in Georgia.

Tell me again how you wanted to jump up and down when you finally got to Florida because you knew that was where you would meet me.  Tell about how it seemed to take forever and ever to get to the city where you would stay while I was born.

Tell me again how I didn't grow inside of your tummy, Mommy.  Tell me about how I was growing inside of my birth mommy's tummy.  Tell me about how she really loved me and took good care of me while I was growing inside of her, but she wasn't old enough to be my mommy so she chose you and Daddy to be my parents.

Tell me again how Daddy wanted to stop for Taco Bell on the way to the hospital, but it was closed.  And how Mommy was being grumpy because she was worried about being late.

Tell me again how you weren't late at all.  Tell me about how you sat in the waiting room with your tummies all tied up in knots and about how my birth grandma came to tell you that it was almost time.  Tell about how you were talking with ***** when I was born.  Tell me how I came at exactly 1:37 p.m. and weighted 6 lbs, 15 oz. and was 19 1/4 inches long.

Tell me again how you walked to the nursery window to see me.  Tell me about how you thought I was beautiful and perfect and amazing.  Tell me how you cried because I was yours.

Tell me again about my nurse, Gina.  Tell me about how she gave me my very first bath and my very first diaper change and about how I didn't like either of them very much at all.

Tell me again how Mommy got to hold me in the nursery when I was still brand new and how Daddy was jealous because he had to wait until the next day to hold his baby girl.

Tell me again about all the people who came to visit me while I was in the hospital: *****'s brother and sister, my birth grandma, and even *****'s grandma and step-grandpa!  Tell me about how excited they were to meet me and how excited they were to meet you since you were going to be my mommy and daddy.

Tell me again how you got to take me home from the hospital when I was three days old.  Tell me how my birth mommy dressed me in the special dress you had picked out for me and how it was white with heart buttons down the back.

Tell me again how carefully you put me in my car seat.  Tell me how Owen sat next to me and how he was bigger than I was.  Tell me about how you kept looking over your shoulder all the way home to make sure I was safe.

Tell me again how you took me home to our special friends.  Tell me about how they let us stay at their house in Florida and helped take care of me.  Tell me about my buddies - C and P - and how much fun I had with them!

Tell me again how you loved me already, even though I was still fresh from Jesus.  Tell me how you cuddled with me and played with me and woke up in the middle of the night to give me my bottle.  Tell me about how your cell phone bill was so expensive because you had to call practically everyone to say that I was going to be your baby forever and ever.

Tell me again how we went the the airport to pick up Grandpa.  Tell me how he gave me my bottle and how he thought I was so tiny and how we became great buddies right away.

Tell me again how we stayed in Florida for almost forever and how I got to do all kinds of things that most babies don't - like going out to eat every day and taking walks on the beach.

Tell me again how we finally got to come home.  Tell me how we drove all night because you were so excited to bring me home forever.  Tell me again how I was so excited to be home that I stayed awake almost all night long.

Daddy, Mommy, tell me again about the way we became a family.  Tell me again about when I was born.

Our Little Money Tree

I've been wanting to write this post for a while.  I keep starting it in my mind and then hesitating before actually typing anything.  You see, I want to talk about money.  And money is such a sticky, personal, might-totally-step-on-someone's-sensitive-toes topic.  (If you know me, I'm not really a step-on-someone's-toes kind of person.  I'm more like a run-if-someone-gets-their-toes-near-me kind of person.)

But the same thoughts keep coming to my mind.  The same words keep swirling around in my head.  And they need to be said.  So, if you have sensitive toes, please step reading right now.  (If you decide to keep reading, you can't say I didn't warn you.)

I have to tell you about our little money tree.  It's hidden away in a shadowed corner of our backyard.  It doesn't need water or sunshine, and - instead of flowers - its blossoms are hundred dollar bills.  In the late summer, there are thousands of them: green, crisp, and ripe for the taking.

Our money tree is why we decided to adopt, you know.  We saw the cost, looked out our back window, and figured we easily had it covered.  There are thousands of dollars just hanging out there, after all.

Agency fees?  Check.

Airplane tickets?  No problem.

Fifty-seven sets of wildly-expensive fingerprints? On it.

Or maybe not so much.

In real life, the only tree in our back yard is a maple.  Sadly, it doesn't grow fruit...or blossoms...or hundred dollar bills.  In real life, I'm a stay-at-home mom, and my husband is a pastor.  In real life, when we learned how much our adoption was going to cost we had no idea where the heck we were going to come up with that much money.  (Because, you know, it was enough to buy like half our house.)

Here's my biggest confession yet: in our real October 2009 life, we didn't have the $600 we needed to pay our agency's application fee.  Seriously.

But we had prayed about adoption.  We knew there were thousands upon thousands of children waiting...and waiting...and waiting.  To be loved.  To be held.  To be kissed goodnight and told they are special.  We had room for more little ones in our home and in our hearts.  We felt God calling us to start on a journey, and we knew the God calling us was a big God.  Bigger than $10,000.  Bigger than $100,000.  Bigger than anything we'd need to go where he was taking us.

So, on October 5, 2009, we scraped up $600 and started this crazy adventure.  And, wow, it hasn't been easy.  It's been rough and full of unexpected bumps and, at times, take-your-breath-away painful.  But God has shown himself to be big...really, really big.

When all is said and done, our adoption is going to cost about $41,000.  (Yes, there are three zeroes in that number.)  Since that day in October - thirty-two very long months ago - God has slowly, steadily, extraordinarily, and very ordinarily provided the finances for each step of this journey.

Two weeks ago, I sat with another adoptive mama (and amazing friend) and marveled at the fact that we were more than halfway done with the financial part of our adoption.  God had provided $22,500.  I told her that if we had to take out a loan for a chunk of the remaining amount, that was 100% okay with me because it would be 1000% worth it. (After all, people take out $10,000 car loans every day, right?)

That was two Sundays ago.

Last Thursday we found out we'd received a grant for $13,500. 

I know I've said this once or twice, but our God is big.

Thirty-two months into this journey, we are almost there.  The amount we have left to save has gone from a seemingly insurmountable cliff to a speed bump.  I'm dismally failing in my attempt to come up with the right adjective to describe how we're feeling right now. 

Why am I sharing this potentially-toe-damaging information?  Because there's something incredibly important that I want you to hear when you read it.  Here's what I'm trying to communicate.  We don't make tons of money.  We're haven't won the lottery or received a gigantic inheritance.  We don't have a little money tree.  We're just a family who wanted more children.  A family who felt God calling us to care for the orphans.  A family who imperfectly and with lots of stumbling is trying to follow God's plan.  

I want you to hear this because maybe one of you reading this has considered adoption.  Maybe you've felt a little tug on your heart when you've heard about orphans or watched a family welcome a new child into their home or read an adoption blog.  And maybe you've said, "We can't adopt.  We don't have $XXXX.  There's no way on earth we could come up with $XXXX."

I want you to hear that you're wrong.  That the God we serve is our Provider.  That he's not short on money, and that he does unbelievable things when we step out in faith to follow his leading.  I want you to hear "God is big" when you hear our story.

I want you to know that - little money tree or not - you could do this crazy thing too.

Life's BIG Questions

Today I wrestled with one of those deep, thought-provoking mom questions 

that just has no easy answer:

Do I let her wear that in public?