Christmas Thoughts from Li'l Dude

Hey there!  Not up there...down here.  It's me, Li'l Dude.

(I know.  Totally not my best picture ever.  My mom thinks anytime is a good time for a photo shoot.  She seriously snatched me out of bed, plopped me on the toilet seat, and started snapping pictures.  So not cool.)

My mom asked me to blog for her today.  (Don't tell her I said so, but I think this whole going-from-one-kid-to-three thing is stressing her out a tiny bit.)  She said today's post would be best coming from me because I've only been home for 36 days.  Even though it feels like I've been part of this family forever, just 37 days ago I woke up in an orphanage.

Thirty-seven days ago my world was a completely different place.  There were a lot less hugs.  A lot less stories.  A lot less bedtime kisses.  A lot less of this crazy-delicious stuff my mom calls pizza.

Thirty-seven days ago I was alone.  Sure, there were forty-nine other kids and some nannies in my orphanage, but none of them were mine.  I'm talking mine like these two are mine.

Yes, they're both seriously bossy, but they're 100% mine.  Like beat-up-the-kid-who-called-me-names mine.  Forever and always mine.

Thirty-seven days ago I woke up in a place without a lot of hope.  A place where I'd spent so much time laying in my crib that the back of my head got flat and a whole strip of my hair got rubbed off.  A place where I'd learned to soothe myself to sleep by banging my head against my crib mattress.  A place where my caretakers weren't 24/7 mommies and daddies, but people who clocked out at the end of each day and went home to their real lives.

Thirty-seven days ago I was an orphan: one of 15,000,000 children living without parents.

If you're honest with yourself, thirty-seven days ago it wasn't difficult to imagine that I was just a picture. A statistic.  A little person far, far, far removed from the comfortable life many of you are living in this amazing land full of resources.

It was easy to reduce me to a tiny prick to your conscience or a $45/month donation.  Easy to confine my story to a hidden corner of your heart...or to not let it in at all.  Easy to allow Christmas shopping or swimming lessons or dinner plans erase me from your mind altogether.

My mom has been there.  She tells me that a few short years ago, she did these things.  She wants to believe she was ignorant, but perhaps she just chose to ignore the reality that all 15,000,000 of these children are just as real as I am.

All of them have personalities.

And potential.

(I know you might not have met me yet, but I'm very real.  My dimples, my teeny-tiny voice, and my mischievous streak are real.)

How can 15,000,000 very real children waiting for families not rip your heart to shreds?  How can tiny boys like me spending Christmas alone in their cribs not bring tears to your eyes?  How can knowing that I celebrated Christmas with my family this year not make you want that for one more child next year?

I hope I get to meet you someday.  And when you hug me, I hope the illusion that you can keep our world's orphan crisis tucked away in a neat corner of your consciousness is totally shattered.  Gone forever.

This Christmas, imagine the gift that you could give to one of these children.  Imagine one of them knowing that they will never be alone again.  Imagine one of them opening presents under your tree next year. 

Before I say good night, I want you to meet one very special little girl.  Her "name" is Eve Noelle.

Three years ago, on Christmas Day, she was found abandoned in Ch*na.  She's spent four Christmases alone.  I want this one to be the last.  Next year, I want this sweet girl to have what I've had today: love, joy, family.

You can chat with my mom (whatitmeans2beheld @ gmail . com) about Eve Noelle or about adoption in general.  (Look out, she gets a little passionate and might talk your ear off.)

This morning my daddy read me a story about a little baby named Jesus who was born long ago in a manger.  That baby grew up to be a man who called people to follow him, not to an easy life but to sacrifice and servanthood.  He grew up to be a man who cared about those the world considered worthless - those who were the least worthy, the least fortunate, the least valuable in the eyes of humanity.  

These children are some of the least.

What are you going to do about it?

A Definite Bargain!

A roll of toilet paper: 46 cents

(How cute is Li'l Man's Mom-we-so-did-not-do-this face?)

A quiet relaxing warm shower for Mommy: Priceless

I <3 you, Ch*rmin.

Big Sis

Becoming a big sister hasn't been an easy thing for Li'l Miss.  She was an only child for the first 52 months of her life; so when her toys and her space and her mommy and daddy suddenly became ours, she struggled.  In all honesty, Li'l Miss's adjustment has probably been the biggest unexpected challenge we've faced since bringing the boys into our family.  It wasn't that we didn't anticipate that it would be difficult, we just had no way of knowing how much this big sister thing would rock her world.  Call us naive...or way too optimistic.

On a positive note, Li'l Miss has come a long way in the two weeks we've been home.  I couldn't resist sharing a few of the things she's been learning about being a big sister.

She's learning to find all her brothers' super-duper ticklish spots.

...learning to share her toys, even her oh-so-special Loving F*amily Dollhouse.

She shares even though her brothers are prone to using the talking silver minivan as a luge and drinking out of the teeny-tiny toilets.

...learning that it's kinda' fun to have buddies when she plays dress up.

(Why is it that they all decide to smile and look in the general direction of the camera only when the boys are dressed as Minnie M*use and R*setta?)

...learning that sharing traditions multiplies the fun instead of dividing it.

 

 ...learning that princesses have way more fun dancing when there's a prince involved.

The other day, Li'l Miss started a sentence with, "When we go back to China to adopt a little girl..."

I guess this big sister thing might be growing on her after all.

First Snow

We woke up to our first dusting of snow today.  It was the perfect morning for me to torture my kids with endless attempts at getting a Christmas-card-worthy picture the kids to play outside and experience our Midwest winter weather.  Li'l Man has probably never played in the snow.  (It does occasionally snow in Shanghai, but I'm guessing they wouldn't let him near the door if it was anywhere close to 32 degrees.  Considering the fact that they gave him to us in three layers of clothing when it was 60 degrees out, he'd probably have to be shrink wrapped in insulation to go outside in the snow.)  Li'l Dude, our Southern Ch*na kiddo, has definitely never seen snow.

Here's a little peek at mommy's photo shoot our adventures.

This one is pretty cute.  If you look closely, you can tell that Big Sister is keeping Little Brother in line by holding the back of his hood.

I think Li'l Miss was about done at this point.  I love that she literally jumps out of the next picture.

And here's my attempt at getting cute way too late in the game.  I was even bribing with Cheerios at this point, but they were so over the camera thing.

Since it's December 11 and I have yet to order Christmas cards, it's probably one of my OCD delusions to think that I'm actually sending any this year.  I promise to post lots of cute Christmas-y pictures of my kiddos instead.

Yay for snow and Merry Christmas!

Two Little Monkeys

...jumping in their beds.

After eight days, the boys figured out that they sleep in the same room.

We could be in trouble.

Waiting Child Wednesday: Dodi

I know it's not Wednesday.  Don't judge the sleepy mommy.

I had every intention of writing this post after the kids went to bed last night (while it was still actually Wednesday).  Getting the boys to sleep means one of us has to lay on their floor until they're both out.  The boys (especially Li'l Man) like to know that they're not alone in their cribs, and I can't say that I blame them.  Last night laying horizontal pretending to be asleep resulted in me actually falling asleep...until almost midnight.  Oops.

I couldn't not write this post, though.  Because the sweetie I want to introduce only has a day or two left on my agency's list.  Once she's removed from their list of designated children, her file could be very difficult to find.  (Plus I'm just selfish and want to know she has a family coming for her.) 

Meet "Dodi" (not her real name).  She's seven years old and waiting in Ch*na for her family.

This beautiful pixie has been waiting for way too long.  Want to see what I mean?  Here's a baby picture from her file.

This girl stole my heart the minute she appeared on our agency's list three months ago.  It was so discouraging to hear that her time with them is almost up, and her family hasn't found her yet.  This girl needs a mommy to brush her hair and a daddy to chase her on the playground.  She's already celebrated too many birthdays alone.

Dodi's special need is a deformity of her tongue that affects her speech.  She also previously experienced weakness in her right leg, but her file states that she can now jump and run down stairs.  My guess is that the biggest factor keeping Dodi from finding a family is her age.  She's not a baby anymore.  She's 7.  

Please don't hear me say that there aren't challenges inherent with adopting an older child, but stop and think about a seven-year-old you know.  They're not very big.  They lose teeth and have imaginary friends.  They're in first or second grade and think their teachers are the coolest people on the planet.  Seven-year-olds still have so much growing up to do, and that should happen in an family - not an orphanage.

Please take a moment to pray that Dodi's family finds her soon.  If you are interested in more information about her, let me know ASAP.  (You can email me at whatitmeans2beheld@gmail.com.)  As I mentioned above, I have access to Dodi's file for another day or two; after that I'm not sure where it will end up.  Dodi is considered a Special Focus child.  That means that anyone can inquire about adopting her.  You don't have to have considered adoption or started any adoption paperwork.  Single moms are also eligible to adopt Dodi.

Please share this sweet girl's information and pictures with anyone you think might be interested in adopting her.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

The Weekend We Stole our Christmas Tree

For the past four years, we've had an artificial tree.  I hate actually writing that for the world to see because I always swore I would be a real-tree mom.  We had a real tree every year growing up, and I love them: their imperfections, their bare spots that have to be hidden in back by the wall, their yummy smells.  Love. Them.

Four years ago we had a huge ice storm right before Christmas.  We'd waited until the last minute to tree hunt so that we could get our tree with family from out-of-town.  It was Li'l Miss's first Christmas, and I had grand aspirations of making memories picking the perfect tree with our extended family.

Here's my sweet girl all loaded up and ready to Christmas tree shop.  (How is it possible that she was ever so tiny?)

 
Unfortunately, after the storm there was ice on everything.  Not kidding.  Everything.

We went to our local hardware store to pick out a tree, and they were all covered in ice.  A very sweet and overachieving employee offered to find a blow dryer to melt a tree for us.  We politely told him that we needed our tree - fully melted - before Christmas 2015 and left to check out our other options. 

There weren't many.  It was a few days before Christmas, and every tree that had been outside during the storm looked like an ice sculpture.

Our church had offered us an artificial tree that wasn't being used.  We gave in and took it.  (We were desperate, people.  We couldn't go tree-less for daughter's first Christmas.)  Every Christmas since then we've decided to stick with the artificial tree.  It was cheap.  It was easy.  It was right down the stairs in our basement.

But this year we were determined to ditch the fake tree and cut our own.  So, Sunday afternoon, we braved a trip to the tree farm with our three very jet-lagged children.  (Everyone goes Christmas tree hunting three days after bringing two children home from Ch*na, right?)  We bundled everyone up, bribed the boys into their car seats with oodles of Cheerios, and made the twenty-minute trek.

The farm was adorable.  It's run by a sweet old couple (Think: Mr. and Mrs. Claus) who make hot chocolate while your family tree hunts.  Totally perfect.

We found our tree in record time.  (Notice Li'l Man still has his Cheerios; that boy likes his food.)

The tree farm employees shook off all the needles and wrapped the tree for us.  Li'l Miss snagged some hot chocolate, and Jeremy loaded the tree on top of our fam van.  A few Cheerios later, we were loaded back up and headed home.

It wasn't until we'd gotten all the kids into the house and out of their various layers, unwrapped the tree, and started setting it into the stand that we noticed a little tag on one of the branches.  It said this.

Ummmmm...our last name is not Langmaid.  Oops.

I have to confess that we did not reload the tree and drive back to the farm.  Cheerios were quickly losing their hypnotic power and the jet lag was definitely taking over at this point.  So, Langmaid Family, whoever you are, we are the Grinches who stole your Christmas...tree, that is.  Please know that it is getting lots of love from our three kiddos.  We wish you loads of luck in finding an even better tree.  (This one kind of has a bare spot at the top anyway.)

Tonight we pulled out all the indestructible ornaments and decorated our pilfered tree.  It was crazy but really fun.  When we plugged the lights in, Li'l Dude's face lit up and he said, "Yay!"

Li'l Miss helped corral her brothers and hang ornaments.

Li'l Dude ran around begging to be flipped upside-down and getting into everything.  (He is so not the kid we met two weeks ago.)

And Li'l Man, well, that jet lag thing is hitting him hard.

As completely insane chaotic as our life might be right now, we are so thrilled to be sharing the Christmas season with all three of our children at home.

(Yes, it was pretty much impossible to catch everyone looking at the camera at the same time.  But this one is close.  Not exactly Christmas-card worthy, but still close.)

It's amazing to think that our boys are not only experiencing their first family Christmas traditions this year (first tree, first presents, first cookie decorating), but they are also probably hearing the true story of Christmas for the very first time.  How awesome that we get to introduce them to their Savior who came to earth as a tiny baby 2,000 years ago.

We are so blessed.