Speechless

As a new mom, I had very few expectations in the way of milestones.

I figured, they do what they do when they do it.

Right?

I guess not...specifically in the adoption arena.

At almost 18 months old, Quint is still not speaking ~ that is to say, he does not utter one word. He babbles but primarily uses vowel sounds, rather than consonants. He will occasionally say "dada" but without any intent or deciphered understanding of "who" he's referencing. No "mama", no "baba", no "gaga" - etc.

So we're going to start with a simple evaluation, just to see if maybe he's slightly delayed with speech and give him a boost if we can. His pediatrician thinks he should have a three word vocab by now and should be using consonants regularly. His social worker feels similarly and suggested we have him evaluated.

What I would like to know is if any of you moms out there have advice you'd like to offer? Encouragement?

Like I said, as a new mom - I had no expectations of when he would speak. I just figured some time before or around two years, we'd see some words start coming out.

Been there done that's - would you like to offer your $.02? Adoptive moms, have you experienced the same or similar experience?

Thanks!

Taking a backseat to get the best seat

Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.
-Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Growing up, my older brother and I would fight over who got to sit in the front seat of the car. Mom would announce that we were off to run errands, go to the store, head to school - or whatever required the drive - and we would start vying for that front seat spot. That front seat with the fantastic view. The prime market of four wheels - the seat occupying the closest space to mom, the radio, air conditioning vents blowing in your face, the front windshield - and a cornucopia of sights and sounds that sitting in the backseat did not offer. Eventually, Mom would have to break up the ruckus and announce who would sit with her on the "way" and who would sit with her up front on the way "back". The "chosen" child who had gained the "way" privilege (or in child lingo "the winner") would quickly take their rightful place in the front seat before Mom changed her mind. The other would sulk, pout, and make a slow entry to the backseat. The place where side window views and the red pleather from the backside of the station wagon bench would absorb the fiery death rays we would shoot at our sibling.

Something about being forced to "miss out" on any part of life that might be happening from the front seat was abysmal to me at that age. The thought of not sitting up front and experiencing all the fortunes that this place of honor held on any given day...well, it made me shrivel with envy from my backseat spot.

As the years went by, and we became teenagers - two kids became four and sibling rivalry took its own backseat in our home. We were spaced apart by many years and were much more intent on taking in the privacy of the backseat rather than competing to ride up front. We started rushing to the back of our family van - plunging into a book or Walkman to escape into our own world of adolescent mish-mosh. My parents obliged - probably happy for peace - and busy with their two youngest additions.

When I got my license, my Dad generously gifted me with a used family vehicle. It was a red pickup and I loved it! From that moment, I resumed riding in the front. I had earned a permanent spot - and I was proud of it. I grew up, went through a few more cars - and eventually got married. All the while enjoying my glory days riding "up front".

And so this is how it all began, and tells the history of my wanting to be up front, have the best view, the best spot, the best air, and the best company along side me.

When we journeyed to Ethiopia last May, I had two things on my mind as we left our home. My beloved pets - who I fretted and mooned over, and my personal comfort on the trip. I know what you're thinking...it's ok. I'm actually thinking it too. Wouldn't I have more important things on my mind at a time like that? One would hope...

But I was living in the front seat. Living for myself and no one else. Living for the view and unaware of what lay ahead. In some ways, blissfully unaware.

I was concerned about the kind of seats we would have. Would we be comfortable? Would we be able to sleep? Would we like the food? Would we like where we were staying? Would we be safe? How would we get around? What kind of car would we end up in?

Seems shallow in a way, doesn't it?

It's not that I didn't think about our son. I did. Excessively. But only in as much as I could get my head around it. After that, I just reverted to my own personal front seat.

But then a baby boy was placed in my arms by a woman I had never met or seen before, in a strange land that I had never been to before but had only seen in pictures, and I in my severe jet lag and exhaustion and overwhelming emotion jumped into the backseat of my life before I knew what had hit me.

Willingly. Lovingly. Without care. Without hesitation. I climbed over into the backseat for the first time in my life.

I left my front window view, my air conditioning, my cushy seat, my leg room and all that goes with sitting upfront - and I made haste to get to the backseat.

You see, from that moment (and subsequently, all the moments from then to now and into all my tomorrows) - as long as I'm his mom - I'm going to willingly sit in the backseat. It's in the fine print of the owners manual - apparently, the backseat it where all the truly best stuff is.

And it's the most wonderful view from the backseat. I can see his life, his happiness, his sweet face and his smile. I can see all the things I want for him and all the things he can become. And more than I want my view up there, more than I want all those perks of having everything for myself...I want them for him.

As far as I can tell, I've got the best seat and it's actually quite comfortable back here. Not always as roomy or air-conditioned, or as fabulous as the front seat was - but I lived up there long enough to know that it's my time to sit back and let someone else ride up front.

Someday, maybe I'll find that he's hopped in the back with me...on this road of parenting, and we'll be looking at who he's riding in the back for.

My hope is that he'll say "hey Mom, it's not so bad after all, here in the backseat, is it?"

No son, it's not so bad...it's the best seat I've ever had.

Latest and Greatest on Quint and Motherhood

3rd place blog topic winner of the poll I took back HERE was "Latest and Greatest on Quint and Motherhood".

Here's your nickel tour ~

We just had our third and final post-placement meeting with the social worker yesterday. It was fine - uneventful even. We met, we chatted - she gave me some good advice, and we hugged and said "let's not do this again" (chuckle chuckle) Actually, she's also our SW for Keira - so we'll be seeing her again for an update before we accept our referral.

Next month marks a year that we've been home and I guess the thing that strikes me the most is how much he has grown and changed in the last 11 months. It's like warp speed - and yet, it feels like eons ago that we were in Africa being handed this little bundle of giggles and curiosity. Sadly, everyone who says "enjoy it because it flies by" is right. It truly does fly by. And remarkably - you find that as much as you value the milestones, you miss what has passed even more. And you don't really see it coming. You want for them all the "nexts" while not really enjoying the "nows". You move through the phases of wanting to watch them grow. Rolling over, sitting, standing, crawling, walking, babbling, talking, running...next thing you know and you've got a certified big boy/girl. It's shocking - where did it go? Oh that's right...I was the one on the other side of the lens saying "thatta boy...you can do it...there you go!" And just like that...he was my big boy.

Yesterday he was a tiny six month old who had never tasted solid food, couldn't sit up on his own, and smiled constantly. Today, he's a carb lovin', "get yer motor runnin", catch me if you can toddler who is still smiling constantly - in between temper tantrums, that is.

I'm still getting used to the idea of being someones mother, actually. It still amazes me how much you can love another person. How frustrated you can get at a little person who knows every single button to push on your panel, and then how quickly that frustration turns to laughter when they flip on the charm and smile winningly at you. How tired I can actually get chasing after a 17 month old...and think that I can't possibly be any more tired...and then low and behold...I am.

For every down side, there seem to be many more up sides. For every moment of pure hair-pulling insanity, there are tons of simple pleasures just being his mom.

I can't lie - there are days I want to jump overboard and pop a hole in the dingy. But there are no nights when I put him to bed with a kiss and a good squeeze and an "I love you, buddy boy", that I don't close his bedroom door and say to myself "he's the best boy ever..."

It's just God's way of refilling the tank daily. You think you can't do it again - can't get up and face it again - can't find one more thing that's amusing about having your cell phone dumped into the toilet, or your cat's tail pulled, or your dogs water bowls thrown in the floor, or your car keys thrown away.....(I could go on...) and then you kiss them goodnight and suddenly all of that melts away. It's remarkable. And each morning, you're excited to see their little face all over again, and experience a new day with them - and explore the world they see. I don't know how it happens, it just...does.

I thank God every day that He saw fit to give Quint to us to love and to raise and to know. It seems like all the time we hear people say "I can't imagine my life without my baby". I get what they mean, but, well, I can imagine it. Quite well, actually. I lived it for too many years. I know exactly how my days and nights began and ended without him. How my time was spent, what I did and where I went. I know what it was like to live my life without him.

Yes, I had free time, but I didn't always use it very wisely. Yes, my house was cleaner and I read more, shopped more and I went where I wanted to when I wanted to. Yes, I lived differently - and I don't have many regrets about that life. But now - comparatively? You couldn't pay me all the gold in the world for an exchange.

I waited for what felt to me like an entire lifetime of loneliness and longing - just getting through each day full of my little "freedoms" - but broken on the inside. Longing on the inside. Tired on the inside.

Until him.

So motherhood is everything that everyone tells you it is. Over-rated...sometimes. Under-rated...a lot of times. Hard work? The hardest work you will ever do and that's not a cliche. Fun and rewarding? Oh so very, very much. Tiring? Like you can't believe - and still won't until you live it. Frustrating? Undeniably has its moments. Fulfilling? There are no words to tell you, truly. Heartbreaking? Utterly. Makes your heart swell to like 50 times the capacity you thought even remotely possible? You better believe it. Love like nothing you've ever known? Bullseye.

And so I guess the latest and greatest is just that it's everything it's cracked up to be. The good and the not as good as you'd like it to be. The frustrating, the happy, the sad, the ridiculously cute, the insanely charming, the meltdowns, the triumphs, the achievements, the rewards, the tears, the laughter, the fatigue, the hunger, the doubt, the kisses, the hugs, the boo-boos, the unwanted advice, the criticism, the pats on the back, the encouragement, the support and the lack-there-of, the freedoms gone and the responsibilities come to stay, the wear and tear and the broken, the diapers, the vomit, the fevers, the gadgets, the "20-minutes longer to do everything" adjustment period, the baths, the smell of baby powder and lotion, the way they smell when they snuggle against you, the loss of "life" as you knew it and the gain of life as you now know it...sweet, sweet life...

and most of all, the good night kiss and tight squeeze and an "I love you, buddy boy".

Best little boy ever...

You're Still the One...

I could scan and post a wedding picture, but we've grown up so much, and changed so much since that beautiful day eight years ago...these pictures taken candidly (and very recently) show more of who we are today...

Eight years seems like a long time from right now. But when looking at the past, it's gone so quickly. We've been married eight years today. So many of those days and hours that made up those eight years were spent with just the two of us. Getting to know each other, learning from each other, and living life.

AB is my best friend. No question about it...

I'm so glad God allowed our paths to cross - I can't imagine not having him in my life to share the amazing journey we're on. His passion and genuine excitement for life and living has given mine new meaning.

I love you, babe...thanks for loving me back. Happy Anniversary x 8 and here's to 60 more...

Betcha thought I was on permanent leave...or sumpthin

Sorry - I'm back. Had my life and my hands full for about a week. Here's the latest...

Dad is doing great! As you might know, Quint and I flew to CA to be with him prior to surgery. The hardest day was Sunday evening. We sat around soberly realizing that this might be our last few moments together as a family with Dad. He tried to keep our spirits up - but it was really no use. For all of our positive words, behind the pats on the back and the hugs were real fears that Dad would slip away from us the next morning during surgery. To make it worse, he brought in his longtime friend to make funeral arrangements with. Nothing like over-hearing that conversation to send your mood plummeting. I do, however, applaud my Dad for being willing to face what the doctors were telling him - didn't look good. But he rallied! He pulled through the surgery smoothly - no complications. He was extubated almost immediately afterward - thank God! By the evening of his surgery, he was looking much better. By Wednesday, he looked wonderful - although he was in quite a bit of pain. I spoke to him yesterday, and he had been moved to a regular room - and told he could go home tomorrow (Monday) if he continued to do so well. I must thank all of you who prayed for him - we believe wholeheartedly that your prayers made a tremendous impact on his recovery and healing. Thank you!!!

Had a great visit with my siblings, grandparents, aunt and uncle - and of course, my Mom and Dad. Quint took to everyone without hesitation. It was a joy to see him warm up to my family so nicely. Not to mention making his Grandpa laugh - worth every minute!

The trip was painfully short and I did not get to see really anyone outside of family. I was able to connect with one dear friend - and she did most of the work - coming to me and sitting the waiting room with me for a couple hours. For those of you in CA that I missed - know that it was not intentional - but rather a whirlwind trip riddled with very little sleep, too many tears, and not enough hours in the day. Didn't help that my Dad was at a hospital almost 40 minutes from where they live and where Quint and I were staying. We did the best we could with naps, travel time, meals, me working part-time, and spending as much time as we could with Dad. Not to mention, no babies in Trauma ICU. Ugh. We snuck him in twice anyway - once before and once after surgery. And only because the nurse at that time allowed us to. This meant a lot of time in the waiting room - hoping for an opportunity. Also, no more than two in at a time - and that meant lots of round robin - you're next, then her, then him...whew.

All that matters is that he's ok - we got to be with him, and he was so happy and surprised to see us.

Now for the rest...

• Quint is not a traveler. First cue should have been when he lost his mind on a recent car trip that lasted 8 hours. Getting on a plane with a 17-month old, who is going to sit in your lap for 3 1/2 hours in a tiny seat...can I just tell you; SKIP IT. The flight to Cali was riddled with squirming, crying, sobbing, and kicking. And that was just me! (I make funny...but seriously...) I was eating some serious humble pie. I was that lady who used to mutter under my breath "control your child" to the poor sap fighting with their toddler in the airplane seat. This time...I was that poor sap.
• Loved seeing one of my oldest friends Renee and meeting her daughter Catie for the first time. It was soooo good for my heart to see them and just spend some time connecting. Seeing her is like going home for me. (Picture at right shows me wrangling the two babies in the hospital waiting room...just getting practice!)
• Flight on the way home proved that it can indeed get "any worse". Oh yes. It can. I made more personal apologies to my fellow travelers and flight crew and gave more pathetic muffled cries, more shrugged shoulders, more excuses, and shielded more flailing arms and legs than I care to mention. Next time - he gets his own seat, or he doesn't go. End of story.
  
• Benadryl doesn't work. Ahem.
• We flew home late Thursday and I came off the plane looking like a nightmare. So many thanks to my dear Erin for picking us up and transporting us home, and for listening, or rather pretending not to listen, to Quint cry all the way home. Love you! (Now you have to update your blog - because I just linked to you!! Ha!)
• I lost my dear friend. My camera. My really, really wonderful Canon Powershot. I want to cry just typing it. Boooooo! Thank you Mom, for giving me your camera - and for knowing that it's like losing an appendage when you have a 1 year old to photograph daily...sob. Pray someone would turn it in - we've left messages with every place I could have left it. Sniffle.
  
• Friday, my sister in law, brother in law, and their two kids came to see us for the weekend. We had a great time - and it's always good to see them. Quint absolutely loved playing with his cousins, and I loved watching him interact with them. Made for a very, very tired baby and mommy, though. I could have slept for days after my trip...
  
• Anton finished his final play for this school year - Schoolhouse Rock!. Tons of fun - a very cute show and Friday was the closing night. Whew! Now we get Daddy back in the evenings.
  
• Is summer here? Is it time for flip-flops and pool time and corn on the cob? I'm so ready for it...anyone else?
  
• We don't think we'll be getting our referral until October or November. Not sad about it - God has a plan. Excited to travel to China in winter!
• Did I mention we're tired? Baby has been sleeping up a storm and so have I. I slept most of my day today. I couldn't help myself. Thank God AB was here to wake me up to eat and see my son. Sleep is amazing, isn't it?
• On top of all of this - last night my Internet crapped out and went bonkers on my laptop. Don't know whatchoo got til' it's gone... I was shaky in my withdrawal. I practically crawled to AB on hands and knees to beg for his computer savvy. Help! Fix it! I frantically pointed towards my "connection to the world". He did his best - and spent the better part of his only day off trying to restore what had mysteriously disappeared. To no avail. Called in the reinforcements at Dell, AT&T - nada. I slept through most of this, so I only know it was hours of phone time wasted. Finally, AB called on a dear friend who handles this type of situation for a living. He swung by and had it running in 45 minutes. (slept through this part also...sigh) Turns out a driver was to blame, and just like that I had lost all my Internet function. Felt like a drug addict whose dope dealer had cut them off cold turkey with no warning. I wanted to yell and scream, but I was in too much withdrawal to do more than shake and rock back and forth. How can I check my lifeblood - my e-mail, my bloglines, my newsreels, my woot? As God as my witness...I'll never lose Internet again!! (Shakes fist in air!)
  

And that my friends, is the latest...

Back for more maybe tomorrow!

*Update*

My Dad pulled through the surgery and did really well. I saw him briefly yesterday and he gave me a thumbs up - a very welcome sight indeed!

He has a tough recovery ahead, and we just need to see how he does these next few days. He needs to avoid infection, more than anything. So far, so good!

Thank you to all of you who posted well wishes and prayers - I cannot tell you what a comfort that was for me...thank you so much!

Hard to say

I'm trying to think of words to say that will express my feelings here. I just can't seem to figure out what I want to write down.

My Dad will have surgery tomorrow morning at 10:30am PST to remove a large abscess and his spleen. His doctors have been fairly transparent. They are going into this with their guard up. The surgery results are "tbd" - as in "let's see how he does". We are down to the wire and this is his last hope and option. The bigger concern is the recovery and possibility for infection. He's imuno-deficient (sic?) and can't handle much in the way of any bad side affects from this operation.

I took this picture and actually thought "please, oh please don't let this be our last picture together"...

It was not comforting (sad but true) that the staff at the hospital let us have as many people in his room as we wanted, let us stay well beyond the close of visitation, or that they asked my Dad to tell them whatever he wanted for dinner and they made it happen. More than all that - that Dad seemed content with the outcome of his surgery tomorrow - whatever that may be.

It may sound grim, but we've had to somewhat prepare ourselves for the worst and yet pray and hope for the best...

And we are... we're praying for a complete healing and successful surgery and recovery. But we are not in total denial about his current odds, given his health issues. This has made it very difficult for us to leave his side tonight - knowing we would not see him again until after surgery in the morning. Lots of tears as we hugged and said goodbye - not sure of what tomorrow would hold for us.

He said he loved me. I told him I loved him so much. He whispered in my ear "you're the greatest" and I had to choke back tears. I'm doing it now too...

Quint sat on his bed for a bit and we laughed together as he made his Grandpa grin from ear to ear. Quint was gentle with my Dad and almost seemed afraid to hurt him - as if he could sense that his Grandpa was not well.

I'm lying if I don't type that my gut is all wrong on this whole situation. But I'm still praying for a miracle.

My Dad is 59 years old...just 59

Would you pray for him too?

He is Risen

He is Risen Indeed!

I'm so grateful for the cross...and humbled every time by the magnitude of the sacrifice made for me.

Friends, please pray for my Dad - due to many complications from his bad fall, he will be having surgery Monday to remove his spleen and his Trauma team has been very honest about their deep concerns for his ability to recover. Needless to say, we are saddened and trying to remain optimistic.

We would truly covet your prayers over the next several days for his health, recovery, and well being.

Happy Easter!

Love you Dad...please get well...

Perspective

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted" Matthew 5:4

I wasn't going to write a second post tonight. Certainly had no intention of that. In fact, it's late and I'm tired and I should be resting so that I can prepare for a busy day with my little man.

To be honest - I've been grumbling quite a bit this week. Grumbling about money and bills. Grumbling about cranky toddlers who don't want to nap. Grumbling about husbands who work very hard and don't get to be home much. Grumbling, grumbling - about life in general, how hard it can be and how many things there are to be fussy about.

Then I stumbled into some other lives through this amazing interwoven world of blogging tonight. Into their shoes and their stories and their grief. And I was reminded of another loss...

Now I sit here just weepy and burdened and grieved. We think we know loss...but we don't. We think we know hardship...but we don't. We grumble about this or that. But we don't know how hard it can truly be.

Not until we lose our babies...

Such a high price to pay for perspective - something I had clearly lost sight of this week.

Take a moment to walk with these families and be reminded of what matters the most ~

Baby Emily

The Spohrs & Baby Maddie

Judson

Greg & Nicole

Audrey Caroline


That's all I wanted to say, I guess. Life is too precious, too short, too fragile to let even one light go out without perspective being placed where it belongs and reminders being given of what was and what could have been.

Excuse me while I go kiss my sleeping baby boy and smell his sweet soft hair...

Blog Love

The second winner of my previous poll (before doom and gloom hit in the form of yet another l.o.u.s.y referral batch - readers who received their referral, please to forgive - we are very happy for you actually) was "Blogs I like and Why".

This is actually a short list and not because I don't have a million that I like and love and stalk...but rather because you will not have time to click all the links that I would list. So here's a snapshot of some of my favorite non-traditional blogs and you can be sure you'll get hooked if you visit. Second, if you want to see some of my other favorites - see the sidebar - lots of goodies there!

Here goes - in no particular order:

Blog I love: Bring the Rain ~ The Story of Audrey Caroline

Why? Because it's touching. And moves me everytime I visit. I'm a huge fan of the group Selah, and this is the blog journal of Todd's wife, Angie. They lost their little baby girl last year and I happened to be following her blog even before that. You will be touched by her heart, her faith, and her transparency.

Blog I love: Cake Wrecks

Why? OMG. Laugh out loud hilarious. Some of the worst cakes in the history of mankind. It doesn't hurt that Jen, the blog author, writes with the most hilarious bylines out there. I've flat out lost my urine on one too many of her posts. You must visit - and don't be shy - go back through the archives to see some of the best Cake Disasters ever!


Blog I love: Dispatches from the Island

Why? Because I'm a huge LOST fan and this is the true and actual blog of Jorge Garcia, who plays "Hurley" on the hit show. He's funny and he posts regularly and sometimes posts cool pics from behind the scenes. Love it!


Blog I love: Owlhaven

Why? Seriously, if you've never paid Mary a visit - you really must. She's been married for 22 years, adopted 4 kiddos from Ethiopia, 2 from Korea - not to mention her own 4 bio kids. She's got the best tips for gardening, cooking, mending clothes and broken hearts, making the best possible use of your resources, and all that jazz. Remember 30 Days of Nothing? Credit to Mary - La' Inventor. Love her...she's incredible!


Blog I love: The Pioneer Woman Cooks

Why? Oh, my people - you have to see this to appreciate the beautiful bliss that is her unreal skills in the kitchen and beeeautiful photography to go with it. You will at the very least get some amazing recipes. Go. Now.


Blog I love: blissfully caffeinated

Why? I'm sorry - but Jennifer can make me laugh out loud, snort, and spit my drink. She is a dear friend from my Cali days - and I actually look forward to seeing that she's posted again - because I know I'm either gonna laugh it up, or get some witty insight into everyday living. She's raw - and I actually like that about her. She just says it like it is - and her down to earth no nonsense posts crack me up. Love you girl - couldn't help myself...gotta spread the love to the masses. (all ten of them!)

Blog I love: I'm an Organizing Junkie

Why? I can't help myself over here. I am a hopelessly addicted organizer. Even when life is falling down around me, I can be found straightening magazines, purging shoes and purses, and making lables for a hodgepodge of things around the house. This gal has my number - she's dialed it - and the line is a-ringin'.

There you have it my peeps - have fun!

September?

Just uploaded my LID into this site - which fairly accurately predicts referral dates based on mathematical deduction, etc.

Guess what?

September. September, people.

That's when they predict we will receive our referral. Travel in November/December.

Has the world gone madd?

September???

But, it's only April...

Picture Therapy

Ok, pity party done.

I've been meaning to share some pretty darn cute pictures - and now that I'm done crying into my soup, I can share them... (captions above pictures)

Still playing the piano - still making sweet baby boy banging music!

This morning, wearing sister's slippers, helping with breakfast...

Being a frowny face - but I LOVE it!

Back to his silly smiley self

Eating taquitos and wearing a sour cream mustache. And, might I add - sporting the casual man's way to dine (foot up)...might have to try that!

And just to update - we're now eating with a fork (and quite well, actually)


Meanwhile, if it takes to long - we still just cram it in with the fingers! Ha!

Yesterday, Anton and I were spending our morning time together and he said "Thank God for you...if God hadn't brought us together we wouldn't have Quint...oh my gosh!" We both groaned out loud at that point. The thought of that is enough to make us sick... After I got over that thought, I was able to appreciate the compliment my husband had just given me. We are blessed to have each other - that is for certain. I do not exaggerate when I tell you that we are best friends, through and through.

And truly, we thank God every day for our amazing boy - he is PURE SUNSHINE in our life.

So much to be thankful for!

Just 2

Looks like it's gonna be just 2 days this month for China referrals.

Sigh.

What worries me is this:

At this rate - we could be in this process for another year. Two days at a time is not gonna cut it, not when we have another 21 of them before they hit our Log in date.

I'm not gonna lie - don't think we've got another year in us. Maybe I'm just in a bad mood at the total lack of movement.

I'm almost four years "in the making" kind-of-cranky over here.

Slow boat to China indeed...