The Journey of a Thousand Miles...

...begins with a single step . . . and then a crash into Daddy's iphone.

Siblings

These two cannot get enough of each other.  I have 3 older stepbrothers, but they didn't join our family until I was around 10 years old.  So I don't really know what it is like to have an older brother-younger sister relationship. 

From watching these two, I think it must be pretty special.

Sienna's first word (before even "Mama" or "Dada") was "Brae."   The first word that comes out of her mouth when she wakes up each morning is "Brae," as she's looking around the house for him. 

When she spots him, her face lights up like a Christmas tree.  And his does, too.  Then they race (or in her case, crawl) toward each other, laughing and embracing. 

It absolutely melts my heart. 

They hold hands in the car.  When he leaves the room, she cries.  When she's taking a bath, he has to take one too, even if he's already taken one.  He feeds her.  He sings to her before bed.  She carries the clothes he's worn that day around with her. 

Quite frankly, it's a sibling love affair. 

And they don't share a single gene between them.  Because, well, it just doesn't matter to them. 

***

A couple cute Brae stories:

1) Brae has been in a Spanish immersion daycare/school since he was 13 weeks old.  He's now over 3.5 years old.  The boy speaks Spanish.  My skin-is-whiter-than-snow boy speaks Spanish.  We went to the park this weekend, and he saw a younger boy playing by himself.  He overheard him speaking Spanish to his mother.  Brae approached him near the teeter totter and said, "Esta caliente, no?," pointing to the teeter totter seat (It's hot, isn't it?).  The boy nodded, and then looked to his mother, her mouth gaped open.  I was so proud.

2) Brae is obsessed with basketball.  Yup, still.  He's not content with our 8-foot basketball hoop in the driveway.  He wants to go to the regulation-level basketball hoop down the street.  He'll be there, pj's and barefoot, until the sun sets or until Dad drags him back into the house, kicking and screaming.  This weekend, I took him to his basketball camp (normally Tygh takes him).  As I sat on the bleachers, another mom came up to me and sat next to me.  "You may not know this," she says, "but your son is quite advanced with basketball."  No kidding. 

Brae-isms and Sobering Mother's Day Statistics

Brae: "Mommy, what's your name?
Me: "Britney."
Brae: (stunned that I have a name) (long pause) "Daddy, what's your name?"
Tygh: "Tygh."
Brae: (stunned and puzzled) (another long pause)  "What's Sienna's name?"

***
A conversation you never think you need to have with another human:

Me: "Brae, we don't actually urinate in other people's yards." 

***
And yet, another one:

Me: (noticing that Brae is digging mightily with his hand into his pants, into his underwear, and into his bum) "Brae, what are you doing?"
Brae: (wide-eyed) "Mommy, I have birds in there!"


***

And now, some sobering statistics in honor of Mother's Day that makes you grateful for the people in your life who are your mothers or you treat like your mothers, and for the kids in your life that are your children, or that you just baby like your children (and P.S., I come from a divorced family):

1. 98% of mothers and 90% of fathers hugged their children ages 0 to 2 years of age daily, compared to only 74% of mothers and 50% of fathers who hugged their children ages 10 to 12 years of age daily


2. In 2008, 67% of children ages 0–17 lived with two married parents, down from 77% in 1980


3. Parents in two-parent families spend an average of 2 hours a day interacting with their children compared to only 50 minutes for single-parent families.


4. Moms are getting older and more educated.  In 2008, 14% of new moms were 35 or older, and 10% were in their teens.  Those numbers were the exact opposite in 1990:  There were more moms in their teens back then.

5.Almost 20% of children are cared for by stay-at-home dads.

6. Seventy-two percent of moms with kids over one year old work, which is about the same rate as childless women. In 1976, that rate was only 39%, indicating that working mothers are on the rise. In addition to working, women average 2.2 hours a day on chores each day, and 2.7 hours each day on primary childcare. Working outside the home typically means less depression for mothers, but research indicates that it’s only if moms let go of the idea of being "supermom." Experts suggest that having it all is too much to shoot for. Instead moms should be satisfied with knowing that you can almost have it all.

7.  The 2000 Census indicates that 5.7 million grandparents live with their grandchildren. These grandparents invariably play a role in raising their grandchildren, in whole or in part with the child’s parent(s). Of the grandparents living with grandchildren in 2000, 42% were responsible for them as a primary caregiver.  Newer research indicates that as many as one in 10 children in the US lives with a grandparent, a figure that has risen sharply since the recession began in 2007.

8.  Research indicates that children from divorced homes have more psychological problems than those who come from homes disrupted by death. This bothersome fact is made worse when you consider that half of all American children will witness their parents’ divorce, and of those children from divorced families, almost half of them will see a parent’s second marriage end in divorce as well. Children in divorced families are 50% more likely to develop health problems than two parent families, and are at greater risk of injury, asthma, headaches, and speech defects.

9. Percent of married women ages 15-44 that are infertile or have difficulty carrying to term : 11.8%.

10. 19% of parents in the United States have lost a child, any age, any cause.

Now go hug someone you love.

Content with Discontent

There is always going to be something you are not content with in life.

You wish you made more money.

You wish your boss made less.  

You wish your house were bigger.

You wish your dog were smaller.

You wish your hair were longer.

You wish your nose were shorter.

You wish that your neighbor would not mow his lawn at 6:27 on Saturday mornings, in his tightie whitie tank top, and bright orange track shorts.  Or, at least you wish he looked better doing it.

You've heard the saying, "the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence."  I say if the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, you need to take better care of your own lawn.

In my brief 32 years, I'm coming to realize that there is just going to be discontentment, always, in our life.  And the sooner we realize and accept that fact, the better off we will be.

For me,  my biggest source of discontentment right now is that I can't seem to accept the fact that my family may be complete.  I long for a third child.  I feel selfish in that want.  I don't know if it will ever come to pass, or if the desire will ever pass.

I'm coming to realize that even if we did have a third child, there would simply be another source of discontentment that will replace it.

This is just the way life goes, and we are all the better off the sooner we accept it.

This is not our home.  We are not supposed to be comfortable here. 

E-coli

There has been an E-coli breakout in our area with now 15 reported cases, and 5 people in the hospital. Three of those 5 now have kidney failure.  The public health department has traced the source back to raw milk at a local farm.

One of those 5 people in the hospital is a precious little girl (18 months) in Brae and Sienna's school.  In Sienna's class, in fact.  She has been in the hospital for over a week.

The health department was at the school several days last week and determined that the contamination did not come from any food served at the school.

But the health department wanted to talk specifically to me.  Why?  Because just a few days before the breakout, and this child's hospitalization, Sienna was sick.  We had to pull her out of school for 2 days with low-grade fever, vomiting, and diarrhea.  I just thought it was a stomach bug and she'd get better.  And she did.  But, because of the time and location proximity to the breakout and this child's hospitalization, the health department came to my house twice to collect stool samples from Sienna.

We heard this morning that the first test came back "equivocal." 

We just heard that the second test came back as negative.

What this likely means is that the first test was either a false positive or there was cross-contamination during the testing. 

It is likely just a fluke that Sienna was sick around the same time as this breakout, and happens to be in the same class as this little girl that is fighting for her life in the hospital.

Thanking God for healing my daughter, and sparing her a more severe illness, and praying for the children that remain hospitalized in quarantine. 

October Babies

This last Easter weekend, I went to see the movie "October Baby."  For those of you who have not seen it or heard of it, I highly recommend it.  It is a very moving film about a young girl who, at age 19, discovers she is adopted.  Not only is she adopted, but she is the survivor of a failed abortion that is shrouded with secrecy and mystery.  The film is a coming of age for this young girl as she seeks to find her birth mom.  But perhaps one of the neatest points in this film doesn't even happen during the film.  There is a trailer to the movie where one of the main actresses reveals she, in real life, had an abortion at a young age.  With tears streaming down her face, she explains that by being in this movie, she found tremendous healing and forgiveness from God. 

The irony didn't escape me that I have my own October baby.  Brae was born on October 31, 2008. 

And now turning to my October baby, here are some coveted Brae-isms:

1) Brae is very into chapstick.  The other day, Tygh came downstairs to find Brae smearing chapstick all over his face.  Tygh thought, "Hmm.. That is an awfully large chapstick container... Brae, come here.  What? What is that you have in your hand? ... Oh no, Brae, this is not chapstick.  This is a gluestick."

2) Brae loves to play hide-n-seek.  But he hasn't quite grasped the concept.  The other day, he told me to go count to 10, and then to come find him.  He then proceeded to "hide."  After I counted to 10, I wandered around the house looking for him, opening closet doors, looking under furniture. Finally, I made my way upstairs to find him standing, lights on, right in the middle of our bedroom.  "You found me, mama!" he proclaimed.  "Now, mama, come here," as he took my hand.  "I want you to hide right here," he said, pointing to behind the bedroom door.  "You stay here, and then I'll come find you."

3) Me: "Brae, tomorrow is Easter.  We celebrate Easter because it is the day Jesus died and then woke up again.  And only Jesus can do that."
 (Long pause).
Brae: "No, Mommy.  Only big boys can do that."

4) Brae: "Mommy, shut up!"
Me: "Brae, that's not a nice word.  We don't tell people to shut up."
(Long pause).
Brae: "Mommy, shut down!"

5) Brae: "Daddy, what sound does a shoe horn make?"

And some pictures from our Easter weekend... 

Seven Nights

As we drove the fuschia pink Nissan Cube up the freeway, I thought, "I can't go through with this."

We passsed miles and miles of nothingness, getting even farther and farther from our destination.  I was more convinced than ever that we had made a mistake.  There was no way I could possibly survive seven nights of this. 

If you are a parent who has ever gone on vacation - sans kids - you know what I'm talking about.

Friday Night:

-- Grandparents pick up kids.  Ruminate about decision for hours.  Try to fall asleep.  Not successful.

Saturday Morning:

-- 5 am: Barely slept.  Miss kids.  A lot.  Wander around house aimlessly.  Husband puts me in car.

-- 7 am: Airport busy.  Spring break.  Planes down.  Airport clerk informs hundreds of passengers they are stuck for 4 days.  Re-book new flight.  Rent a car.  Not a cute car.  Drive 3.5 hours to Seattle to catch red eye flight.

-- 9 pm: Really miss kids. 

-- Midnight: Catch flight.  Wonder if I'm a good mom.

Sunday:

-- Midday: Have not slept.  Miss kids.  Call grandparents repeatedly.  Listen to sound of Sienna breathing.  Laugh at Brae's sweet voice.

-- Late midday: Arrive in Cabo.  See good friends.  Good weather.  Amazing resort.  Awesome company.

-- Midnight: Toss and turn.  Miss kids.  Dream of kids.

Seven nights of "rinse and repeat" the above schedule. 

Kids probably not scarred.  Mama may be.

So this is what it means to be a mother: To agree that I will forever allow my heart to live outside my body.

Really, really hard to function when my heart is hundreds of miles away.

Not sure I'll be doing this again anytime soon. 

Brae-isms (Part ?)

1. He is all boy.  The other day, after swim class, we went into the locker room to get him in the shower and dressed.  As I was by the lockers gathering his stuff together, I see him pause in front of the shower.  He still had his swim shorts on.  He looked down at his feet.  Then I see this trickle coming down his leg, and pooling onto the concrete floor.  Urine.  Then I see him, without hesitation, scoop down with his right hand and gather up some urine.  Then he proceeds to place his hand directly in his mouth and (gasp) drink his urine. Now if you think that I was standing idly by watching all of this, you are sorely mistaken.  As soon as I saw the urine start to pool, I was running (seemingly in slow motion) to halt the inevitable. 

2. Brae: "Mommy, you are a princess.  Sienna is a princess.  Brae is a BIG boy.  And Daddy is muy grande."

3. Brae: "Mommy, the sun is up really high.  I can't reach it.  I need a ladder." 

4.  Brae and Sienna hold hands in their car seats.  It melts my heart.  I'll look in my rear view mirror and see Brae reaching his hand out to Sienna, and she's reaching her hand out to him.  And then they connect and just clasp on for dear life, and smile. 

Sienna's 9 month stats

Sienna had her 9 month checkup today.  The highlights: 

• We have a lovely, larger than life daughter.  She is 20 lbs, 8 oz.  That is the 85th percentile. [When Brae was 9 months, he weighed 19.5 lbs, which was the 40th percentile for boys]. 
• She is 29 inches.  That is the 95th percentile.  [When Brae was 9 months, he was 28.5 inches, which was the 60th percentile for boys]. 
• She has 8 teeth, with two more on the way.  [When Brae was 9 months, he still only had 2]
• She is extremely strong.  The doctor noticed that even on her first day of life when he remarked that she had very good muscle tone.  She can pull a tall TV tray (with food on it) across the floor.  This is particularly troublesome when the food on the tray belonged to Brae and he was trying to eat it. 
• She has been crawling since 8 months, and has been pulling herself up for the last several weeks.  She is just starting to do some cruising.  I think she'll be walking by age 1.  
• She loves her pureed food, but solids not so much.  When I try to give her something small, even Cheerios, she will often gag.  The doctor said she has a very strong gag reflex.  If she's still not readily manipulating solid foods in her mouth and swallowing by age 1, we may need to see a specialist. 
• She's a great sleeper and napper.  12 hours at night, and 2 naps during the day of 45 minutes - 3 hours.  
• What I can gauge about her personality so far: she's extremely physically active and curious; she loves her brother; she's a friendly child, but is not effusive or gregarious like Brae; she loves baths; she loves being outdoors; she really does not like it when Brae takes away her toys. 

Love this girl.

 

If you have ever adopted, or ever thought about adoption...

This may bring you to tears:

I tiptoed into your room one night.

I watched you sleeping there.

Your tiny body looked so snug

Wrapped in peaceful slumber's care.

I thought of how you came to be

The child we'd longed to know.

I wondered at the sight of you:

"How could she let you go?"

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I

Felt the pain she must have known.

For I will have to let you go

Some day when you are grown.

A mother I might never meet

Had given me her son.

Yet, surely as you've filled my heart,

A piece of hers you'd won.

"How could she let you go?"

The question kept returning.

And in the depths of my own heart.

A question kept on burning.

"How can I ever let you go

When years have come and gone?"

I stood there by your crib until

The nighttime turned to dawn.

And as the sun peeked through the shades,

The voice of God broke through.

"I trusted her to give him life

And now I'm trusting to you.

"To show him what is right and wrong,

to love him and to be

The one who teaches him the way

To come back home to me.

"He wasn't hers to give, you know.

And he's not yours to own.

I've placed him in your life to love

But he is mine … on loan."

-Valerie Kay Gwin   

What you may not know about them

What you may not know about these three kiddos: 

1. Two of them are siblings, those two siblings are first cousins to the other; not one is genetically related.

2. Together, they have Hispanic, Peruvian, Native American, and German blood pulsating through their veins. 

     3. Two of their birthmoms are now friends.   

             4.  One of them was conceived 10 years before birth.

        
  5.  Each one was and is a long-awaited answer to prayer, and proof that God's timing is perfect. 

Top 5 Things About Being Gluten Free

I've been gluten free (for the second time around) for over 5 months now.  The first time was for about 7 months; four months prior to Sienna's conception, and through the first trimester.  This time around is much easier.  That may be because I now have confirmation of a subclinical presentation of Celiac; perhaps because there are simply more options available than even 18 months ago; perhaps because I really feel like I'm doing it by my choice this time. 

You may know all the research that is coming out about how gluten affects fertility (if you want the research my endocrinologist gave me, you can email me at bacolton@hotmail.com).  But, although I can't say I can personally attest to that particular benefit, there are many other side benefits to being gluten free. 

Here are my top 5:

1. Overall, I feel much better.  I never had any symptoms of a gluten sensitivity, but now being gluten free, I feel so much lighter, cleaner, healthier.  I never ever feel bloated.

2. It's a much "purer" way to eat.  Gluten is found in a lot of processed foods.  So, simply by eating more organically, you are naturally eating less gluten.  Getting back to the way Adam and Eve ate, ya know?

3.  Being gluten free is so much easier these days.  Perhaps because it is en vogue, or is simply becoming more common, restaurants -- even Italian restaurants -- are offering gluten free options.  I have never been able to not find a substitute.  (I have yet to find a pizza crust that I truly enjoy as much as a wheat crust, but that is pretty much the only exception).

4.  If you have ever seen "Cupcake Wars" on the Food Network, the winner last year was this little bakery just down the road from us! And she won with a gluten free cupcake!  I have tried them, and I must admit, not half bad! (I'm still partial to ice cream, which thankfully, does generally not contain gluten). 

5.  I used to have awful cycle cramps.  The kind where you double over in pain, have to leave work/school early.  Yeah, that kind.  Well, no longer.  I still notice the familiar twinges and low back ache and can recognize when it is coming, but it is not at all debilitating like it used to be.

Gluten sensitivities are much more common than they used to be.  If you at all suspect you have a gluten sensitivity, it is a simple blood test.  Celiac itself is generally not officially diagnosed outside of having an intestinal probe, but you can have subclinical presentations, like myself. 

It is not easy being gluten free, but it is absolutely a lifestyle choice that has mounds of benefits that, in my opinion, make it extremely worthwhile. 

Five little known facts

In the interest of levity... Five Little Known Facts about Me: 

1.  I wear slippers or fuzzy socks to bed every night.  However, invariably, I slip them off after about 5 minutes.  Into the covers.  So, at any given time, there are at least six pairs of socks or slippers under the covers, at the foot of my bed.  It causes my husband endless frustration.

2.  I was a prep in high school.  I went to a hippie college.  I had a lot of trouble reconciling the two.  I resolved it by wearing Grateful Dead shirts, ripped up jeans, and penny loafers.  I rocked it.

3.  I hate to cook.  You would hate to eat what I cook.  In high school, my parents made me cook a meal once a week.  It didn't last long.  For enchiladas, did you know you are supposed to brown the meat before you put it in the tortillas, and then in the oven? Why you would need to cook it twice is beyond me. 

4.  I love 80s music.  A great day for me is when I can hear Lionel Ritchie, Starship, and Peter Cetera on the radio in one sitting.

5.  I have a pretty expansive vocabulary.  I like using ridiculously commodious words whenever possible.  And, when I can't think of a word that works, I will make one up. 

More Brae-isms

First, I want to say thank you to everyone who gave me such great feedback about Brae's "bullying" at his little school.  After talking with some more teachers, talking with Brae, and witnessing some 1:1 interaction between Brae and this little boy, I say with sufficient confidence that this mother was overreacting.  And that is hard to say, because I'm not one to dismiss allegations of bullying lightly.  

But to know a little bit more about why I think this mom overreacted, I think you also need to know a little bit about this mom.  I think she is perhaps more sensitive to "unkind" remarks because I think she was probably a victim of (more than the "usual") unkind treatment when she was younger (and perhaps, sadly, still is).  The entire conversation between she and I was very odd.  While she was telling me about her son's behavior toward Brae, she was smiling.  Perhaps it was just a nervous smile, but I also got the sense that she was, perhaps, encouraged, that at least her son was not a victim of bullying.  It was very odd.  

But, now that I'm aware that this type of thing can happen as early as the preschool years, my eyes are much more open.

Okay, now on to much lighter topics.  Some recent Brae-isms:  

-- What is it with boys and their bowel movements?  The other day, Brae wanted to play with some toys outside.  He went outside, dropped his drawers, and peed.  Then, he decided to take all of his clothes off, except his socks (in February?).  I was preparing dinner, so I wasn't watching him closely.  When he trotted in after about 10 minutes, the bottom of his socks were black.  And they smelled.  

"Brae," I asked. "Did you go poop outside?"

He nodded approvingly.  "Yes, mama! C'mon, let me show you!"

And then he gallivanted me proudly around the backyard, showing me the three places he went poop, and then had stepped in each with his feet. 

Seriously? 

-- The other morning, as I'm waiting for Brae to go pee, he declares, "Mama, I'm going to go pee like a Warrior!"

And then, while pants down, he proceeds to get into a warrior (think yoga-warrior) pose, and remarkably, aimed perfectly into the toilet. 

-- Every Sunday Tygh takes Brae to the driving range after church.  They go to this local golf course called Langdon Farms that has big, beautiful red farmhouses all throughout the golf course.  After they finish at the driving range, they have lunch together.  The wait staff know Brae so well, his chicken nuggets and chocolate milk are already waiting for him when they step in from outside.  

This last Sunday, as Tygh and Brae were driving up to the golf course, Brae began to sing: 

"Old MacDonald had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-ooo... and on that farm he had some ..... (long pause) ..... golf balls... ee-i-ee-i-ooo.... and on that farm he had some ..... (long pause) ..... chicken nuggets ..... ee-i-ee-i-ooo....." 

Here are some recent pics of the kiddos (and, drumroll... Sienna. Is. Crawling!!!!!): 

Happy Valentine's Day! 

Looking in the lion's den: My little heart hurts

I was going to post about something completely different today, but then something happened this morning that has completely distracted me.

As I was dropping Brae and Sienna off at their little school, another parent mother approached me.  She pulled me aside.  I've got Sienna propped on my hip, cold wind blowing against us, and Brae sitting in his car seat. 

"I need to tell you something," she begins.  "I think Brae may be getting picked on at school.  By my son, and by this other boy." 
"Ok," I said, as a lump wells in my throat.  "What makes you think that?"
"Just some things my son is saying, like he doesn't want to play with Brae because he's not potty trained."
"Well that doesn't make sense," I respond, "Brae is potty trained."
"I don't know," she continues.  "This may just be 3-year-old squalor, but my son said he doesn't want to invite Brae for a playdate.  I told him that if he's going to invite his other friend, he has to invite Brae."
"Ok," I stammer, still trying to process all of this in my head, hoping that Brae isn't overhearing any of this. "Thanks for letting me know," I manage, as I readjust Sienna on my hip and start gathering her things out of the car.

I walked to the front door of the school kind of in a daze.  Was any of this true? Does bullying really start this young? I'd always been afraid that Brae would BE the bully, not the victim.  Why am I so bothered by this? Was it appropriate for this mother to tell me all of this? 

I dropped Sienna off, and on my way out the door to go get Brae, I ran into the headmaster of the school.  I inquired about whether she'd seen any bullying-type activities from these two boys toward Brae.  She seemed shocked, which was comforting to me.  "No," she insisted, "And if we do, we put a stop to it.  But you know, one day, these kids are friends, one day they aren't.  Somebody hears that somebody else had a birthday party that they weren't invited to, so they aren't friends for a week."

As I walked toward the car to get Brae, I knew that the headmaster was right.  I remember how those school years can be.  But why am I still so bothered by this? I don't even know if it's true.  

As I unstrapped Brae from his carseat, I asked him, "So, are James and Max your friends?"  He looked at me surprised and then said, "Mommy! I don't want to go to school!" and started a little temper tantrum.  (You have to keep in mind that Brae has been throwing a temper tantrum just about every morning since Sienna was born when I drop him off at school.  He doesn't seem like he ever wants to go, and yet, he's never ready to leave when I pick him up in the afternoon.  So I try not to read too much into this).

As I was driving away from the school, I could.not.get.all.of.this.out.of.my.head. 

We've tried so hard to make Brae not an "obvious" target of bullying.  He doesn't have a strange haircut.  He wears "cool" clothes.  He's a confident kid.  He's a joker.  He's potty-trained (phew!).  He's learning his manners.  He's a smart kid. 

And that's where it hit me.  I can do everything in my power to prepare him to enter this world, but I can do nothing about how other people act.  I'm not responsible for the actions of others.  My job as Brae's Mommy is to equip him for this world.  And, there are bullies in this world.  Heck, there's bullies at my work.  But that doesn't mean I don't go to work.  If I were to teach Brae that every time he's faced with an obstacle, he quits and turns around, I would be doing Brae a great disservice. 

At the same time, no child should be subjected to bullying.  School should be a safe place. 

The problem with this situation is that I don't really know what has happened, if anything.  And this other mother doesn't know either.  We're at the mercy of the finite vocabulary and infinite imagination of our sons. 
At this moment, I plan to probe a little deeper with some of the other teachers at the school to see if they notice anything.  I also plan on asking some non-leading questions of Brae tonight to see if I can elicit anything further. 

There is another mother-friend at the school who is planning to take her son out.  He's a little bit older, and a very shy, reserved boy.  She believes, based on things he has told her, that perhaps he's not having the best time at school.  He's an artsy kid and she wants to find a school that may fit her son a little more.

I definitely do not feel at the same place she is.  I love this school.  It's a full Spanish immersion school.  It's quaint, organic, a real neighborhood feel.  During the summer, I'm able to walk the kids to and from school.  I want Brae to stay in this school.  But that desire pales in comparison to wanting the best for my son.

In this situation, it's just so hard to know what that is.

I'm taking suggestions.

Sienna's dedication

On Sunday, January 15, we dedicated Sienna at our church.  What this means is that we made a commitment

to grow her up in a Christian family, knowing and loving the Lord.  

My grandmother insisted on buying her dedication dress, and because we were dedicating her to God, we thought the more gaudy the dress, the better.  She was a pink poof ball.  I loved it. 

On our way to church, I tried to explain to Brae what it meant that we were dedicating Sienna to God.  

Me: "God gave Sienna to us as a gift, and today, we are going to give her back to God." 

Brae: (Long pause).  "Mommy, I want to go golfing." 

Good talk, Russ.

Unfortunately, none of the professional pictures turned out that great, due to lighting, so the only shots that we really got were from my sister's camera (below). 

O

 Some other Sienna highlights: 

-- Girl weighs over 20 lbs.  She's in 12-18 month, oh heck, yes some 2T clothes.  

-- She has 7 teeth, and the 8th is bulging.  

-- She just (like this morning) learned how to get into a sitting position from lying down.  She also just recently learned how to get from sitting to lying down.  She's rolling, rolling, rolling.  She gets on all 4's and rocks back and forth, and kind of crawls backward, but no forward motion yet. 

-- She's eating solids (pureed), but no real solids yet.  She can't seem to yet figure out how to move the food from the front of her tongue to the back.  So when I've tried to feed her solids, she tends to gag and puke up what she's just eaten.  

-- Still the only person who can get her to belly laugh is her brother.  Which is odd, because he likely poses the greatest threat to her safety.  But, all he has to do is walk in the room, and she just lights up like a Christmas tree.  She adores him.

Brae.  Sigh.  That boy.  I know most parents say this, but our son really is very intelligent.  He's working on spelling out words when we read, he can count up to 50 (well, he could really go up to 100, but who has the time for that? ha ha!), and he can play Jedi Mind Control games on you.

A couple recent moments of fun: 

The other day, Brae was downstairs going potty.  (He has a different potty in the house that he prefers for different times of the day.  The morning pee pee is downstairs).  Anyway, I'm standing next to him, and he points to a small brown spot on the bathroom rug.  "Mommy, that's my poop," he says.  "Huh? Your poop?"  "Yes, some of my poop fell there the other day."  "Oh, okay," I say, "Thanks, I'll put it in the washing machine."  "Yeah, but Mommy, don't touch it.  It's icky.  It's for the dogs."  

(Apparently he remembers that both of our dogs fondly liked eating the others' poop.  Yummy.) 

We went to the doctor's on Friday.  We were in the waiting room.  They had a water cooler.  Brae filled up a Dixie cup of water and proclaimed to the waiting room: "I am going to drink this water like a dog."  And then he placed the Dixie cup in the middle of the room, got on all fours, and lapped up the water like a dog.  

A proud moment for me as a mother.

Last night, for the first time ever, I became a prop in one of Brae's imaginations.  I was sitting in Sienna's room, watching her roll on the floor.  Brae declared to me that he was going to cut my hair.  So, he took blanket after blanket after blanket and draped them around me, around my neck, trying to tie them in the back, and preparing to cut my hair.  And then he got the eraser from the chalkboard and pretended to shave my head.  

Love.

We're sending her the proof.

Sienna was dedicated at our church this last Sunday (I will post about that awesome dedication next week).  But the event got me to thinking about Brae's dedication when he was just shy of 3 months old. 

It was January 2009.  It was Sanctity of Life Sunday.  Our church asked us to give our testimony about Brae's adoption. 

As I was speaking before the hundreds of people in the congregation, I got to the place in the story when Rachael (Brae's birthmom) and I talked about her decision to not abort. 

Brae was a mere several hours old.  It was Halloween night.  Rachael and I were in her hospital room.  It was late and it was dark.  Brae was asleep.  Rachael was in the bed, and I was on the couch beside her.  We'd just finished a long, wonderful conversation about her life and dreams.  Then, the conversation turned to when she found out she was pregnant, and what decision she was going to make.  She and her longtime boyfriend were having problems and she did not think they would stay together. 

Me: "Did you think about abortion?"
Rachael: "Yes."
Me: "And what did you think about?"
Rachael: "I decided that I was not going to abort this child because it was not the baby's fault.  Getting pregnant was not the baby's fault.  I was not going to punish this baby for something I did.  That's when I decided that God had placed this baby in me as a gift for someone else.  I was merely the vessel."

I told her that she had had 3 options, and she chose the most unselfish.  She could have aborted him, and he wouldn't be here.  She could have said, "I'm going to keep him because he's 'mine,' no matter what his life may look like.  But, she did the most loving -- she carried him for 9 months, gave birth to him, and said "I love you so much, I want a better life for you." 

As I was sharing the testimony, Tygh was holding Brae up on stage.  Then, all of a sudden, when I got to this part of the testimony about Rachael choosing life for our son, Brae got the BIGGEST smile on his face.  The crowd erupted with laughter and tears. 

So, on Sunday, as we were driving to church to dedicate Sienna, I thought back on this story.  And I decided to text Rachael:

Me: "I don't think I ever told you about Brae's dedication.  When I was giving our testimony and got to the part where you told me you were going to choose life for Brae and not abort him, Brae got the biggest smile on his face. We have it on video."
Rachael: "I'd love to see it."
Me: "Ok.  I will send you a copy."

 I have a copy of Brae's dedication and I'm going to send it to her.

She will see living proof that, even as an infant, Brae was ecstatic that his birthmom chose life for him. 

You be the Judge.

A series of coincidences, or something more?

I have a very good friend, whose privacy I have agreed to maintain, but we'll call her Zoe.

Zoe has been trying to get pregnant for many years, and a couple years ago, adopted a son.  She and her husband have gone through many rounds of fertility treatment, unsuccessfully.

Recently, Zoe and I made an informal pact to step up our quiet times in the morning, reading the Bible, and sharing what we're learning with each other.  A couple of weeks ago, we decided to earnestly be praying that we would each spontaneously get pregnant.  (You heard that right -- Tygh and I are open to a 3rd child, but only if it happens spontaneously).

 We each know the medical diagnoses we've received, so that if we did get pregnant spontaneously, it would be no small miracle.  And, because we believe it's important to pray specific prayers so you receive specific answers, we've each boldly and with great faith and expectation have begun praying to spontaneously get pregnant this year.

A couple days ago, Zoe and her husband were wrestling with whether to do another round of fertility treatment.  Yesterday, I was flipping through Facebook, and found this verse on a friend's page: "The Lord will fight for you.  You just need to be still."  Exodus 14:14.  (Other interpretations are "You need to stay calm" and "You need to hold your peace").

I texted this verse to Zoe.  Immediately, she wrote back that was the confirmation she needed.  She and her husband decided that they would not do any more fertility treatment, but instead "be still" and fervent in prayer that God would indeed bless them with a spontaneous pregnancy. 

For many months, she and her husband have believed that God would bless them with a pregnancy, with a daughter, and that they were to name her "Abby".  (Does any of this sound familiar?!)  "Abby" was one of their son's first words, and lately, Zoe has been seeing that name EVERYWHERE. 

Zoe and I emailed most of yesterday.  During one of the emails,  I told her I had this very strong "picture/vision" in my head.  It was of a forest.  I was looking at a forest full of trees, and yet could see this very bright, multi-colored light behind the trees.  The light was moving.  I told Zoe I felt very strongly that this "picture/vision" was from God and that He was using it to tell us that even in the midst of the forests of our lives (infertility), He IS moving.  He IS working.  He's already in the forest, working on our behalf.

Last night, as I was driving home, I texted Zoe, "So what does Abby mean, anyway?"

Zoe: "It means 'Joy of the Father'".

When I received that text, my heart stopped.  I almost couldn't breathe. 

I texted back, "You know that Bible verse I sent you this morning?  You know how I told you I saw it on a friend's Facebook page?  Do you know which friend it was? It was my friend Joy's page."

(I still get chills).

And, then, this morning, Zoe sent me an email with this picture, below.  "Look what randomly popped up on Pinterest last night.  It's your vision".

Again, full. body. chills.

A series of coincidences?

I think not.

A very special video

Over Christmas, my sister-in-law (thank you!) made the most amazing video about Sienna's journey to us.  Warning: you may cry.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-B3eTh1Pgk8

The lyrics of the first song are most poignant (from Norah Jones, "Seven Years"):

"Spinning, laughing, dancing to
Her favorite song
A little girl with nothing wrong
Is all alone

Eyes wide open
Always hoping for the sun
And she'll sing her song to anyone
That comes along

Fragile as a leaf in autumn
Just fallin' to the ground
Without a sound

Crooked little smile on her face
Tells a tale of grace
That's all her own

Fragile as a leaf in autumn
Just fallin' to the ground
Without a sound

Spinning, laughing, dancing to her favorite song
She's a little girl with nothing wrong
And she's all alone"

She's alone no more!

The weekend in review

-- Sienna's top toofers are coming in -- one has broken through (the girl now as 3! At 6 months!).  Their arrival has not been nearly as easy as her bottom toofers, and suffice it to say I have not had a lot of sleep the last several nights.

-- Sienna is sitting up like a champ.  Her neck is still getting better, and the PT has now released us from any more appointments.  It's been a long 4 months of sometimes 3 doctor appointments a week.  We will continue to go to the chiro appointments, but I'm hoping those will taper off, too.

-- We went to the family cabin in the mountain for the long NYE weekend with Tygh's sister and her husband and their 19-month-old son, who is Brae's cousin brother.  He is also adopted, and Brae adores him.  It was so great to get away with some family and ring in the new year together (even if we were in bed the second after midnight).

-- Here are some fun pics through the eyes of Americana: public sledding down a random hill off the highway = mass chaos.  I alone witnessed three separate incidences that probably all require some kind of medical treatment. 

 

Last week, Brae also attended his first professional basketball game with Tygh.  Tygh's company has courtside seats, so he took Tygh and a friend of Tygh's and his 5-year-old son.  It was a complete blast that Brae is still talking about (and wearing his jersey to bed each night).  If you know my son, he LOVES basketball.  It didn't get much better than this: