tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82500396204416052732024-03-05T15:59:14.954-08:00holdmamaHollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.comBlogger193125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-59041049578693336082015-07-18T09:18:00.002-07:002015-07-18T09:18:51.023-07:00Brittany's Back Biiiaaatch!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There's no easy way to say 'heeeeey' after such an aggressive hiatus, so I guess I'll jump right in. Besides, nobody reads blogs anymore, so here you are, audience of 7.<br />
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My name is Holly, I've had this blog for a loooong time but have not been super great about keeping it up. We could blame it on a lot of things. I'll start with the kids... because what is blaming for if you don't have kids? They are the alpha and omega, the brunt and the joy of every life... or at least mine. <br />
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Sometimes I try and remember myself before kids and it's so vivid, it's like I NEVER even had one and then I try and write another sentence and someone needs their butt wiped or my husband passively vibes me for trying to take a few minutes to pour my heart out to the internets. It's like a constant win/lose or lose/win depending on your perspective.<br />
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So with that said, I'm here. I have about 15 uninterrupted minutes (conservatively). If I'm really going to do this, I want to get a few things clear out of the gate. I feel like the first time I attempted this whole blog/writing thing I didn't get what I wanted out there, so I'll start with what I hope is the obvious. <b>I love my life</b>. I really do. I wouldn't want anything different. I never knew I wanted this life; I was the girl in high school who literally gagged at the girls who 'just wanted to get married and have 2.5 kids.' I wanted to smoke cigarettes up at the old junior high and steal my friends mom's tequila and listen to Rites of Passage while I experienced both. But then I went to college and I fell super hard... for several boys, and then just one... and <i>then</i> I met the love of my life. I never knew I was searching until I was truly found. The thing is, I love Jesus, I really do. I look at the life I have and have no one to thank but Him. I look at the incredible marriage I have and we have no one to thank for it but God. That can be a hard thing to swallow at times. If I'm honest, sometimes I want to take credit for something, or for all of it. But in my heart of hearts, I know. So with that said, I want you to know, despite my life I love and the God I love, I still struggle...<br />
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See, I'm at this weird place in life. I'm 36- I have 4 kids. No babies. Who would have thought I loved babies so much??? Nobody who knew me when I had them, that's for sure. See, the thing with time is it gives you perspective. I look back on my 10 years of babies and I can't even believe how amazing that time was! If you are reading this, please heed my words... it's the best. It really is! Look at me, I'm like that old lady at the grocery store who says, 'oh boy, you sure have your hands full!' You nod politely and say 'yeah, it's a lot' and she says, 'oh just you wait, they'll be grown before you know it!' and you think, oh hell no! this is the longest 18 months of my life! Yes, that's me right now, all this wisdom with my 10, 8, 5, and 4 year old (insert sarcasm). But seriously, it's crazy to me looking back on that time.... those babies were EVERYTHING. <i>I wanted for nothing</i>, I honestly can't remember being so fulfilled. Sure I was exhausted and tired and confused but I was SO IN LOVE! And the crazy thing is, I kept wanting more! <br />
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I grew up in a home where I was the center of my mom's world. It was just me and her, so it wasn't like I was chosen or something... it was mostly circumstantial. I was really, REALLY lucky to have such an incredibly dedicated and selfless mom. She made what I wanted for dinner, she never missed a basketball game and she knew ALL of my friends, like really knew them. Kind of like the time when she paid my friend $50 to find out if I was smoking cigarettes. My friend was no fool, she took the money and narcked. I'm just a tiny bit bitter. But for reals , having a mom like that sets the bar really high. I can't tell you how thankful I am to have had her, and I really believe she made me into the mom I am today. <br />
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Yet, I'm not my mom. You know how people are always like, 'I hope I don't turn into my mom!' and you're like 'it's inevitable, we all do!' Well guess what, I actually really do hope I turn into my mom, but what I'm realizing is that I'm actually very different than her. I love working, I love my job, I love that my working job gets me out of the house! Which gets me back to this. I'm 36, I have 4 kids. I have no babies. See, I'm at this unique time in my life. Those 4 kids need me, but not like they used to. And I need them, but again, it's not what it used to be. Remember that babies can't talk! They just coo and snuggle and cry but then they are so damn adorable because its YOUR baby you can't help but forgive them. But now, the tides have turned. I have 4 adorable kids, don't get me wrong, but they can often be tiny assholes. They like to yell 'your're a butthole' and 'you're the worst'' and 'you're not my mom' and the dreaded... 'I hate you!' Yes, they say it all, mostly the little guy, but none of them are exempt from their share of turdiness (new word). I'm not saying I love them less because of the way they treat me and each other... it's just different. I'm at this 'tween' like time... not totally all filled up with sweet baby buzz and not at that point where they are holed up in their room ignoring me or always out with their friends or going off to college. I've got 4 live bodies ALL up in my grill, <i>like all the time</i>. I can't leave them home alone yet (legally), I'm not a millionaire so I can't pay a babysitter to watch them on the regs, I'm just stuck! I know, I know, enjoy this time... bigger the kid, bigger the problem. I totally get it. I'm not trying to sound ungrateful or complain about the 4 kids I FULLY chose to have. But with these 4 medium, mostly delightful problems, I have my own wants and desires.. like I've don't have a mouth attached to my nipple or massive guilt about not reading books to them every night. It's like I've got these teeny tiny tastes of freedom and it tastes goooood! For the first time, I actually like being gone more than I like being home (within reason). I kinda feel like a way toned down version of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (if you don't know this reference, you should probably stop reading now). All that to say, I love my life, I love Jesus, but if you see me <strike>day drinking</strike> out and about a little more than normal, please know my heart is in the right place; I'm just trying to recapture a little bit of me again. <br />
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So there you have it. A little glimpse into my tween years. Next up,apparently I'm going to France like tomorrow.<br />
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Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-53782984509699578992013-11-11T06:30:00.000-08:002013-11-11T12:04:59.726-08:00an update of sorts<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i><b>'a child born to another woman calls me mommy.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>the magnitude of that tragedy </b></i></div>
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<i><b>and </b></i></div>
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<i><b>the depth of that privilege are </b></i></div>
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<i><b>not lost on me.'</b></i></div>
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<i><b> -jody landers</b></i></div>
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i have this boy. <br />
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this tiny boy. <br />
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this tiny boy who turns 3 today.<br />
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some days it can feel like the hardest thing in the world. not so much him, but just 4 kids and sometimes he gets the brunt of it. do i expect more from him? <br />
i do. <br />
i do only because he is so perfect. so mild mannered, mostly cooperative, and very sweet and tender. this lends to the most sensitive boy i've ever known. and let me tell you, oz was sensitive. we couldn't even whisper, or sing, or spell the word 'NO' without him having a nervous breakdown. teg is not far behind. the simplest reproach leaves me with an angry shout, 'you are not my friend!' sometimes i want to stress about this but then someone else pulls me away and i just get over it. and you know what? so does he. that's part of the awesomeness of tegeny. he gets over things VERY quickly. and for that, i am eternally thankful.<br />
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when i began this process, nothing terrified me more than realizing i would have to meet or see my future child's family. especially his mom. i really didn't think i could survive such a meeting. and maybe God knew that. when we got our referral, he was one of those cases where not much was known. i'll leave it at that, because that's our story, <i>his story,</i> and not yours.<br />
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but i can tell you this. not a day goes by that i don't think about his mom, his brothers, his sisters... anyone at all that new this perfect child. i have these crazy fantasies about him having a sibling and me tearing through heaven and earth to bring that child to me. to him.<br />
i think about his mom. <i>all.the.time.</i> like, i literally can't stop. like everything in me wants to tell her and show her and yell to her about this perfect boy that she made. that i have.<br />
and i think that is so much of it. <br />
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a couple weeks back my baby girl turned 4. i've never had such an emotional reaction to ANY of my kids turning a year older. i told her her birth story (standard in some households, not so much mine). and then i cried as i lay next to her while she slept. i mean, tali is pretty ding dang special, but don't even get me started on the others. those feelings exist for all of them. but for her, this time, it felt SO different. so foreign.<br />
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'tegeny turns 3 today.' i put that in quotes because we have no idea when his birthday is or how old he is. this was based on a physical by our amazing pediatrician, and some basic info from the orphanage. i know teg expects nothing on nov 11, but it won't be long until he does. and what do i have? i can tell him the same ol story... <i>you were born from my heart, not my tummy. Jesus gave you to me. my perfect baby boy. you completed our family tegeny. you were what we hoped and prayed for for years...</i><br />
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yet not a day goes by that i look at our son, and want so badly to just piece together all that makes up his 29 pounds... his big brown eyes, his luscious lips, his tiny booty and worlds skinniest legs and just lay claim to all of it. and yet, i've got nothing. <i> i know nothing</i>. and to think i have these feelings of incompleteness-- i can't even fathom what it will feel like for him someday. <br />
i know i should just be thankful that i have him and he has us, and that he declares his love without abandon (something i know he doesn't get from me). i want that to be enough. but it's not. i want him to know. i want his mom to know.<br />
and if i really boil it down, i think in a lot of ways, i want a little credit. i want credit for all his amazing attributes. i want credit for lily's skinny legs, and ozzy's big brown eyes, and tali's winning personality and on a good day, i might just take a little. but the real truth is, i'm searching and found wanting. all of the BEST qualities and features of my biological kids are, and will always be Jesus. and as for teg, if i could i would just squeeze, and kiss, and adore his mama if i found her, if she's even still alive, and then i would fall to my knees and thank our king that he appointed me to love and adore this boy forever. because he, like all children are worthy.<br />
so on those days when i stare awkwardly at him and try to peel away all that makes up my amazing son, my perfect last born, i'm once again searching and looking towards my king. my alpha and omega. and i'm saying thank you. thank you for this boy and god bless his mom. and please lord, let me do the very best i can. with him. with all of them. <br />
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how's that for a 8 month update? i don't know what else to say.... he undoubtedly has his issues and i struggle mightily to always have the compassion i know i should, but really, the boy is perfect. perfect for me, perfect for us.<br />
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Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-7162771265779040232013-03-18T21:33:00.003-07:002013-03-18T21:33:38.440-07:002 (ish) weeks in...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Call it the honeymoon phase, or what you want, but these last 3 weeks have been better than I ever could have dreamed...<br />
I promise I've really been trying to find the time to update you all (and myself years from now) on these first couple weeks with our boy... but it appears that 4 children is a lot more work than I thought.<br />
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B was just saying last night, 'I feel like going from 3 to 4 kids is really like going from 3 to 6 kids.' It is just <i>so much work</i>! It feels like the cleanup, the dishes, the mess, the cooking, the laundry... lord have mercy, the laundry alone, has seriously multiplied. We realized its because we went from 3 to a whole 4. Not 3 to a baby infant nursing sleeping thing, but a real live body, running around like crazy person yelling at the top of his lungs 'on your bed' to the dog (more on that milestone later). Not to mention, the whole getting to know you aspect. Like getting to know if you really will run into the street (yes), if you will yell and pull books off the shelves at the library (yes), if you will fall off the ladder of the bunk beds (yes), if you will have more diarrhea blowouts than all my other kids combined (yes). Its a steep learning curve over here... and not without many bumps and bruises (literally).</div>
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But before you go calling CPS on us, please know all of this work is far outweighed by this boy's smile. I mean, for the love.... his smile just lights up our whole house. And its not like he's rationing those things, its one big smile and laugh coming out of his tiny 22lb body. </div>
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So where to start... well those first couple days home we were all on edge.. and our best behavior. We tiptoed around each other, waited cautiously to see how he would react to anything and everything. He was absolutely terrified of the dog. Like super scared. We kept her outside or yelled at her a ton to get on her bed. Slowly, but surely he got more comfortable Thankfully emma lou is so good with kids and used to being abused (lovingly) by Tali. Once Elliot realized lou could care less about him, he took it upon himself to yell at the top of his lungs, 'get on your bed,' EVERY time she got off of it. It didn't stop there, just this last saturday at the beach he spent the better part of it yelling furiously at every dog that went by, 'get on your bed!' We have some pretty rad video of him yelling a string of amharic words at him. If only we had a translator...<br />
Anyway, aside from yelling at the dog in those first days, he was sleeping a lot. He would wake up from his naps in bad mood which consisted of 'i will cry if you don't hold me for hours.' I realized a lot of that was the jet lag and by day 5 he was pretty well regulated in the sleep department. I wasn't totally sure how to do the sleep thing. As parents of 3 kids, sleep is the ONE thing I feel totally confident bragging about. Our 3 kids are great sleepers and have been since they were wee ones. We did the whole 'cry it out' thing as infants with them (some earlier than others), and so every night we have all 3 kids in bed asleep without any laying or whining or any disruptions until 7 the next morning. Its been a huge part of how and why B and I have been able to stay happily married-- that time we have together alone from 8-10 every night is so huge (even if we do spend it watching breaking bad). </div>
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I knew that Elliot's sleep situation at the orphanage was in some ways very similar to what takes place at our place, but for attachment purposes I wanted to spend some time with him alone, quiet, dark, letting him know how much he is loved. And I can honestly say that even though in some ways it feels like I am un-training is his stellar sleep habits, the time I get holding and rocking him every night has been some of our richest moments. As most of you know, he learned 'I love you mama' on our second day together... don't think I haven't totally exploited that-- I'm practically begging him to say it to me every minute:) So every night I take him upstairs after he gets a kiss from Daddo, brother and sisters and its our time to cuddle. As soon as we get in our room, he melts into my body and lays his head on my shoulder. We walk and rock and I start by saying, 'I love you Tegegne,' and he whispers back, 'I love you,' then I say, 'daddo loves you,' and he replies 'daddo loves you' I say, 'Sissy loves you, 'to which he says, 'sissy loves you,' then I say 'Ozzy loves you,' he says, 'Ozzy loves you,' and then I say, 'Tali loves you,' and he whispers again, 'Tali loves you.' Lastly I say, 'Jesus loves you more than anything and anyone Tegegne... I will always love you Tegegne, I will never leave you. It's bedtime now, but when you wake up, I'll be right by your side. I will always be with you Tegegne. Forever.' Of course he doesn't understand a word of it, but something in me has to believe he's getting it... after all-- deep cries out to deep.</div>
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So the sleep thing is going pretty good. Once he falls asleep, he sleeps through the night. The night however is not without its foes. He wakes up more than I would like, his disruptions range from a whimper, to some string of Amharic words, to a full blown cry. He's comforted by my voice and touch and quickly falls back to sleep, but it does break my heart to see how vulnerable he is in his slumber. We've also been working trying to get B in the bedtime mix. We've been making some progress on that front, but we are nowhere near me being totally out of the picture. </div>
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So that's sleep. Food has been rather interesting. As many of you know, my 3 bio kids are probably the worst eaters in the world. No joke. It could be pages of pages of a blog entry. Lil, Oz and T straight up blow at eating. I've tried almost everything, but no matter what I do, I'm a short order cook. Its mac and cheese, chicken dinosaurs, pizza, or quesadillas every night around here. Not only are they picky, but they are also very light eaters. We're talking like its a struggle to get them to eat two chicken dinosaurs, and 1 box of mac and cheese easily feeds all 3. I'm sure it has nothing to do with all the crackers they eat throughout the day, but I learned early on-- choose your battles-- and this one was one I clearly kept losing. I'd heard a lot of things about ET kids appetites and I was excited to finally get an 'eater.' And I will say, I definitely have an eater, but the eating that is going on is exactly what my crazy picky kids eat! All he ever wants is bread, crackers, milk... forget any meat, fruits or veggies, he acts like they are an abomination in his mouth! I had brought a couple sippy cups when I went to ET and he majorly attached to a yellow one. By attach I mean he held it all day long no matter what he was doing. He's gotten a bit better at home, he doesn't need to always have one, but every so often he'll remember they exist and get them out of the drawer. He'll try almost everything, but is very clear if he doesn't like it. We are working hard to get as much protein in him as possible per Dr. B's instructions.<br />
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Now that we've covered the food... we can move on to the radical diarrhea we are battling. I suppose battling is a inaccurate term since we loosing pretty bad. Not much to say on that front, except it smells so incredibly wrong-- and the smell just lingers and lingers. Febreeze, candles, scentsy- they are no match for the big D. We are awaiting the lab results- but likely its giardia or some other type of intestinal parasite.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNpCzu8phHwg1xDVC1l4XAyB1eD8jTc8sEavjQIGxIUrHs6j_TFlWUgMpm8TFITh7ue_wgwgroG4TIJaJpoBOo0aXb0mEPnJdtFg1hK-GM3krS27Aq4JRjZCoK4YlObmtNpc9skn1rqdAw/s1600/blog+pic+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNpCzu8phHwg1xDVC1l4XAyB1eD8jTc8sEavjQIGxIUrHs6j_TFlWUgMpm8TFITh7ue_wgwgroG4TIJaJpoBOo0aXb0mEPnJdtFg1hK-GM3krS27Aq4JRjZCoK4YlObmtNpc9skn1rqdAw/s320/blog+pic+2.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Homie loves water --especially dog bowl water</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mastering the slide in our backyard</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Ce-Lo</td></tr>
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Probably the most frequent question we get is, 'how are the other kids doing?' And to that I say, 'I couldn't be more proud of them.' They really haven't missed a beat. I know its still very early on, but they've been so great about it all- by all, I mean way less attention:) Its definitely the most hard for Tali. It's never easy getting bumped from baby status. However she continues to amaze me. In so many ways, she's the perfect kid to have this happen to. She's my most social, cuddly, loving, accepting child of the 3. She definitely has her moments-- telling me I always hold Elliot and not her. It makes my heart sad for sure, but then the next minute she's begging me to wake him up cuz she wants to play with him. It will be much easier when he can communicate, for now they just spend a lot of time tormenting the dog, or hoarding paper, bread, or canned goods and hiding them in various cupboards. Most of the time they are outside sitting in the barbie jeep together, or making 'soup' out of mud, dog bowl water, and rocks. It's really neat to see their love for each other grow. I see it in little things every day. Elliot bringing Tali her purse in the morning, or Tali giving him bites of her dinner. Oz is still waiting patiently for Elliot to be ready to play guys, but in the meantime will settle with some hide and seek. Lily and Elliot has been really special as well. He seems to be the most enamored with her out of all the kids. She loves to pick out his outfit and shoes, give him snacks and plays with him outside. He in turn tries to get in her bed every night and pretend sleep, or sit next to her on the couch. Just this last Saturday night, Lil was at a friends for a sleepover and as we were getting ready for bed, we were having the kids all take turns giving him a kiss like we do every night. This is one of his (and their) favorite activities. It's really cute to see him respond to their affection. After tali and oz's kiss, he started looking around and asking for Lily. It was super cute. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Besties (or at least working towards it)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUg8QU5ZeTipbvPqb5nCayRF9k3HSgf8bXcyOBdt2LaqgsLHkb4yPWeRVcEWOWSqmgE7LYB0BcV28YplPnsn8iiqCH1zCeh1oW0NHg9YAz1fndodDmmHHGO1DJR7os4KIHxgUGoktLi72q/s1600/blog+pic+7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUg8QU5ZeTipbvPqb5nCayRF9k3HSgf8bXcyOBdt2LaqgsLHkb4yPWeRVcEWOWSqmgE7LYB0BcV28YplPnsn8iiqCH1zCeh1oW0NHg9YAz1fndodDmmHHGO1DJR7os4KIHxgUGoktLi72q/s320/blog+pic+7.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brother love</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvL5Yhtus-xFVnFnN1VaD0I29QXVP52fNjHsFvYwU0yAn-p_-LAB0KwREHjK1E7Lzhnej6YllgXVsz2GXGi-bOpj9nsZ9IPwzOG8iLEu8iWsQAVTZmH0H7MvN_tr2QJxk_Yh7E0xjaaWX2/s1600/blog+pic+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvL5Yhtus-xFVnFnN1VaD0I29QXVP52fNjHsFvYwU0yAn-p_-LAB0KwREHjK1E7Lzhnej6YllgXVsz2GXGi-bOpj9nsZ9IPwzOG8iLEu8iWsQAVTZmH0H7MvN_tr2QJxk_Yh7E0xjaaWX2/s320/blog+pic+4.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sissy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuwMhFvArhhow7HAsCTp9bOHPtTPWvY510kDVsyQj9Nvq1_NIUjSxiTagEHkgX1Kfi9vzX05EOY5L_63w1f4k4iutl6zJGr605ce0w3h0I_BycK_BHnaipYkCn8fEggWEBm0gJYVbthbSI/s1600/blog+pic+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuwMhFvArhhow7HAsCTp9bOHPtTPWvY510kDVsyQj9Nvq1_NIUjSxiTagEHkgX1Kfi9vzX05EOY5L_63w1f4k4iutl6zJGr605ce0w3h0I_BycK_BHnaipYkCn8fEggWEBm0gJYVbthbSI/s320/blog+pic+3.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LOVES the beach</td></tr>
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<br />
About a month before we brought Elliot home I was having all kinds of dreams about him. Crazy things, like he was able to totally speak English or he just loved me so much, or he could be around other people no problem. All of the dreams were REALLY good. I'm not a crazy dream person, but every time I would have one I would wake up feeling so hopeful. Even though life isn't exactly like what happened in those dreams, the feelings are the same. I've had my ups and downs and struggles and fears of inadequacy these last few weeks, but all in all, I'm so overwhelmed with gratitude and awe at God's grace on all of us in this time. When I tell people how well its going, a common response I get is, 'he must be so thankful.' Those statements used to sit uneasily with me, but after further thought and time, I'm realizing that there are elements of gratitude. I think mostly due to the freedom alone he now experiences- but really it just comes down to feeling so much love. Elliot is SO loved by us and everyone he meets. And so as I spend my days getting to know my new son, memorizing every inch of his body- a luxury from birth I didn't have with him... I marvel at his hands, his feet, his tummy... I see his little moles, and I see his scars. It's hard not knowing why or where they came from, but I love knowing that every little pain he feels from now and forevermore I will know about and I WILL be there to kiss it and make it better. As I watch him begin to grow into a healthy, confident little boy and beam at his infectious smile bringing so much joy into my heart and my home, my heart breaks knowing his birth mom (wherever she may be), will never know this boy born of her body. Yet in that same sadness, I'm overwhelmed with thankfulness knowing that God knew that the moment Elliot was born, that <i>I</i> would be his forever mom. And I'm here to say as I do to him every night before bed, 'I will never leave you Tegegne, I will always be here for you. Everyday, when you wake up, I will be here for you, because I am your mom and I love you. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1XVZq3t29gT0RndfVZj2dAjShyWqBCnh49YJ1VjSAbJAqeKfbn3sYae9nvZ1OnTr39V_es4d0TxzB7IUUJsBH0jHlhRBGesOoL4Nd6va5uUeVglP7lbAMEbL3DwxWnjMsMoMD1efv0Yfa/s1600/blog+pic+8.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1XVZq3t29gT0RndfVZj2dAjShyWqBCnh49YJ1VjSAbJAqeKfbn3sYae9nvZ1OnTr39V_es4d0TxzB7IUUJsBH0jHlhRBGesOoL4Nd6va5uUeVglP7lbAMEbL3DwxWnjMsMoMD1efv0Yfa/s320/blog+pic+8.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of many semi- failed attempts at all 4</td></tr>
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Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com59tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-32116077092176826612013-03-07T21:59:00.004-08:002013-03-07T21:59:38.336-08:00Day 5<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Even though we had a really special time at the goodbye ceremony on Tuesday I came back to the guesthouse that day overcome with a lot of emotions. After our nap, I started to feel super restless and kind of depressed. I was feeling SO done being at the guesthouse. We were the only people staying there and although it was 'kid friendly' in the ethiopian sense, it was far from easy having a toddler there. The whole area was gated, so it wasn't unsafe, but the way it was laid out made it difficult to keep track of Elliot. He couln't just run around free because there were many steps and drop offs at random places. We literally had to follow him around the whole time he was outside, and HE was (and still is) totally obsessed with being outside. On top of all that, I was just desperate to get home and see the rest of my family. Having my mom there was so huge for so many reasons, one of which was she really helped keep my spirits up.<br />
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Waking up Wednesday morning, I was SO happy thinking that it was my last day there. Unfortunately our flight wasn't out until 10:15 that evening, so we had the whole day with nothing to do. There are no parks, or kid things, and we had no car even if there was somewhere we wanted to go. The guesthouse that we were staying at has a ministry that they founded in in Addis http://missionethiopia.com/. They encourage their guests to go tour the grounds of the ministry when they stay at the guesthouse. Since we really had nothing else going, we decided to go check it out. We had arranged to go the day before at 10, but in true ET fashion, when we arrived at 10 in the lobby, they were far from ready. At about 10:30 they finally enlightened us that they were having a hard time finding a car to take us. No problem, we'd just keep chasing Elliot around until they got there. At about 11:15, a van pulled up. In some of the reading I've been doing, they say it's important to really study your child, to find the things that can be fear triggers for your adopted child. I noticed on our drive from the orphanage that first day to our embassy appointment that Elliot's body kind of just went limp. Sure he was holding on to me, but his overall disposition was extremely passive (not the boy we've come to know). He barely moved, spoke or smiled-- he just fell limp in my arms. When we got in the van to go to Mission Ethiopia, he started to do the same thing. I felt so bad thinking that he was scared that we were going somewhere that wasn't safe. I tried to comfort him and even asked the girl we were with to explain where we were going. He loosened up a bit once we arrived, but still I felt sad.<br />
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We drove through the city for about 10 minutes then kind of pulled off the road onto a dirt road. Houses and buildings were replaced by shacks and shanties. We were in the slum. It's hard enough being in the city, but being in the slum is a whole other experience. The poverty and depravity is just staggering. It pierces through your heart and steals the breath right from your chest. To think this is the only reality these people have ever and will ever know is so defeating. The girl began explaining what the Mission was as we pulled into the gates. They are ministry that serves HIV positive women, widows, single mothers and their children. They provide jobs for them. They make necklaces that they call 'chunky beads'-- they are essentially necklaces with beads made of compressed paper- very common in certain parts of Africa, though called different names. They then sell these necklaces at the guesthouses. It's pretty rad, and I really commend the guy that started it all. Like so many of us, his heart broke for the people of Ethiopia when he adopted his 2 kids a few years back, so he started this all up. While touring the grounds we met many of the workers. One guy with leprosy weaving door mats. His fingers were pretty much non existent from the leprosy, but he smiled continually at us and you could tell that he had a real pride in his craft. While the mom's are at work, there is a room for their non school age children to play and learn. The kids were so excited to see us and kept yelling 'ferenge' (ET word for white people). For some reason, seeing all this was incredibly overwhelming for me and I fought to keep my tears under control. I was thankful that these kids had their mom so close by, but heartbroken for the poverty they had to face day in and day out.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYtgyag8tvXmZTmmNpiWLnXzN42eQr4EydRGniVclQ1FRNVxclnfxWjvLDPVGRYmWV2ynrQOh4A4RXa8EvXuRXBCS5MNxC-e2tVIBfIRC1RJc3cVLeI7vzfFFDcwR09twQd7_Vjv-mBzu/s1600/060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYtgyag8tvXmZTmmNpiWLnXzN42eQr4EydRGniVclQ1FRNVxclnfxWjvLDPVGRYmWV2ynrQOh4A4RXa8EvXuRXBCS5MNxC-e2tVIBfIRC1RJc3cVLeI7vzfFFDcwR09twQd7_Vjv-mBzu/s320/060.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goodbye Addis</td></tr>
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After our visit, we faced a long afternoon waiting for our flights. I packed and re-packed and organized. Finally it was time for dinner and before I knew it, Abe poked his head in and said it was time! I was so happy to finally be beginning our journey home, but also incredibly overwhelmed at the first flight being 17 hours!!! Abe's fiance met us at the airport to say goodbye. They were so cute and gracious-- I can't wait for them to get married in a couple months! After our goodbye we made our way into the airport. I tried putting Elliot in the ergo, but after a few minutes he was pretty over it. He wanted to run around. We checked in with no problems and made our way to our gate. Elliot didn't seem to concerned about the airplane once we made our way on. He sat in his seat, then my lap, then back in his seat. He hadn't napped that day, and it was 10:15 his time, so I was anticipating some good sleeping in his future. I can't tell you how incredibly thankful I was that we flew Ethiopian Air this trip. The whole staff from airport to flight attendants are so kid friendly and just generally awesome. Once it was time to buckle up, Elliot started to get restless-- it was clear he did NOT like being restrained. I asked the flight attendant to please explain in Amharic what was going on. She did and he relaxed considerably. But after about 5 mins more of this he was getting antsy again. After crying for about 2 minutes, he fell asleep, and slept for.... 6 HOURS STRAIGHT!!! I was so relieved and happy. I took advantage of sleeping as best I could with his head on my lap. Part of the reason the flight home was 3 hours longer than flight there was because we had to stop in Rome to refuel. By the time we landed in Rome, lights were on and people moving around made it so Elliot began to wake up. He had a little snack as we waited to take off again. The whole stop from touchdown to takeoff was about 2 hours. Once the seat-belt had to come on again, he started to cry again. I tried to comfort him from my seat, but again without the language I was feeling very inadequate. Next thing I know, the <strike>angel</strike> flight attendant leans over me and starts rubbing his back and whispering to him in Amharic As a mother of three, I feel like I know a thing or two about parenting, but I can't tell you how incredibly humbled I was in that moment. Humbled and overcome with gratitude. It's never easy to see your kids suffer-- especially when there is a way to alleviate it. Not being able to be the mom I wanted in that moment was just another reminder of just how little control I have over anything-- big or small. Next thing I know, his little body gave way to sleep and he slept for another 2 hours. <br />
<br />
So that made for 8 hours of sleep! YES! However, this led to a wake time of 7 hours. On an airplane. With a two year old. I barely know. Let's just say we did a lot of 'laps.' We walked and walked and walked around that plane. He just about won the heart of every soul on that plane. And the flight attendants .. have mercy! They scooped him up more than I could ever ask and just took him to their little hangout spot and loved on him. It was so RAD! When we weren't walking around, we were trying to entertain him with play-doh, markers, and food. We had some success, but it always came back to the walking. Finally after 7 hours of this, he fell back asleep and slept the next 2 hours until we landed in DC. As we deplaned in DC, I started to feel sad thinking this was the last time he would hear his language for a long time... The next few days and weeks would be incredibly lonely for him. Again, I began feeling inadequate and sad that I couldn't fix this for him...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet angel of a flight attendent</td></tr>
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As many of you know, I'm not the most patriotic gal. But landing on American soil that day was one of the best feelings ever. I wasn't sure how it would work with customs and immigration, but the officer handled our paperwork in about 2 mins and passed us through-- like it was NO big deal to bring an Ethiopian toddler to America as your own. As we walked through the airport to our next gate, I was holding Elliot and looking around the unusually quiet airport. I suddenly became so overwhelmed looking at him taking it all in. To think that walking through that gate, Elliot's life was changed forever. He could BE anything now, he could GO anywhere. EVERY opportunity is at his fingertips. He could BE any kind of man he wants to. At the risk of sounding totally cliche, this new world was his oyster. If nothing else, I'm so thankful for the great opportunity this land will give him. (To clairfy- I'm not saying he couldn't do all this growing up as an orphan in Ethiopia- our God is very big and can do what He wants, yet I'm not totally ignorant and recognize the opportunities America affords all its people is incredibly unique and wonderful- and for that I am very thankful).<br />
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We stopped off at the food court to refuel before our last flight home-- a mere 5 hour jaunt across the states. My mom took him on a little walk while I caught up on some texts and calls and generally just sat down feeling more exhausted (physically, spirituality, emotionally) than I had in long time. My mom and him stumbled upon pretzel annie's where it turned out the girl working could speak Amharic Elliot just lit up as she asked him his name (Tegegn), his age (2) and where he was from (Addis)-. He answered all of them. (Side note, apparently he told one of the flight attendants that he was from Addis, but he wasn't going back!) The pretzel girl then asked him who his mom was, and he totally turned and hugged me! It just melted my heart. <br />
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Finally it was time to board our last flight...I love flying Virgin, but not with a 2 year old. We were surrounded by a bunch of young career types all dressed in biz cas doing a lot of talk about re-branding, public radio, and ski trip to aspen with colleagues. The irony was so thick to me as I sat there with my 1 day old adopted son coming off a 17 hour flight from a third world country. Irony lost on them, but I was cracking up inside... they have nooooooo idea. Probably about anything. Harsh I know, but you know I couldn't resist. After about 2 hours of fidgeting, Elliot finally fell asleep and slept the last 3 hours home.<br />
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When the captain finally uttered those sweet words, 'Folks we will be landing in San Francisco in about 20 minutes, please fasten your seat belts,' I just about died of relief. It was finally ALL over. I honestly can't think of a time in my life I was more thankful. <br />
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As we turned the corner to baggage claim, I laid eyes on the sweetest thing... there was my man. My partner, my besty. We hugged and rejoiced-- grabbed our stuff and began the drive home.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Re-united!</td></tr>
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The care ride was relatively uneventful- Elliot struggled a bit with the car seat, but eventually sleep won him (and me) again. Pulling up to Fearn ave, our new life officially began....<br />
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Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-41310885149598796142013-03-02T20:31:00.005-08:002013-03-02T20:31:46.648-08:00Day 4<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So after my good morning cuddles, we made our way down to
breakfast. I brought down some plain
instant oatmeal I had packed from home.
While we were waiting for our breakfast I made the oatmeal for him and
he ate the whole bowl. Then the eggs and toast came out. He ate at least 2
maybe 3 scrambled eggs and 2 pieces of toast!
It was so awesome. After
breakfast, he discovered outside. Once
that slider was open, he was gone baby gone.
The guesthouse is completely gated, so he just roamed around, coming in
and out. Laughing, running, smiling…
not a care in the world. I loved seeing
him so happy and carefree.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Abe arrived at 9:30 and took us over to Hilawe. I was a little nervous to return there after
the amazing 24 hours we had together, but I knew how important this goodbye
ceremony was for the orphanage, as well as for Elliot. They sat us down and asked if they could take
Elliot up to change him into his clothes for the ceremony. While E was getting ready, we chatted with
the director of the orphanage. It was
really interesting talking to him about adoption, the future, and just the process
in general. He was a very neat man, and you could tell his best interests truly
were with the children. I came away from
our conversation feeling really thankful that Elliot got to spend so much time
at that particular orphanage. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
As we were talking, the nannies began bringing down all of
Elliot's friends one by one. They all get
to sit on the rug and be a part of the ceremony. Elliot was no stranger to these goodbye parties,
they said he had been to dozens. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5ihSCsnGVNoX-5WDJpS8BPO-bATgmgfAknSHanbGRZiqQCulUzoUtD-pD8X7MN5BxOxazQWIPHuAmkFgQdxl7bus0o0NBTuX89yhcxZqa7wKVOFX5rvqYtMytUqqrNRJwHjw4vp6HJnE/s1600/photo+(5).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5ihSCsnGVNoX-5WDJpS8BPO-bATgmgfAknSHanbGRZiqQCulUzoUtD-pD8X7MN5BxOxazQWIPHuAmkFgQdxl7bus0o0NBTuX89yhcxZqa7wKVOFX5rvqYtMytUqqrNRJwHjw4vp6HJnE/s320/photo+(5).JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mom with the sweet babies</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Next
thing I know, baby boy comes marching down the stairs being held by one of the
nannies in his ceremony clothes. He had
the biggest grin on his face, it was so adorable.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXjg-d2XBasxyhyvu6LdVWDpnG3A2SgQXyZxdDuHIaJg_B9RiqRcMYjhzwe9jfpmCYl5PQNc3kNbd-X1oP_ZgBgx3OnhIG-JNRO1d2k1l81PM2_FvHZucpY3tns_0k9pI9WHnzmDeKfYup/s1600/photo+(10).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXjg-d2XBasxyhyvu6LdVWDpnG3A2SgQXyZxdDuHIaJg_B9RiqRcMYjhzwe9jfpmCYl5PQNc3kNbd-X1oP_ZgBgx3OnhIG-JNRO1d2k1l81PM2_FvHZucpY3tns_0k9pI9WHnzmDeKfYup/s320/photo+(10).JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Once downstairs, we huddled
together in a circle. They told me we
would all lay hands on Elliot and they would pray in Amharic and then I could
pray in English if I wanted. As soon as
my fingers touched his nannies, I was a
goner. I had no idea what they said in Amharic
but when it was over I jumped at the chance to pray for my boy with his
people. I wanted to be sure and give all
honor to them for the care and love they gave him before I got him. I mentioned
how crazy it was to be in eye of the past and future. I had to cut it short because the tears were
winning and I would be a blubbering mess if I didn't wrap it up. After the prayer, we sat down. With Elliot on my lap, we cut the huge loaf
of bread and partook in the traditional coffee ceremony. Always awkward since I don’t ever drink
coffee and don’t like it one bit, but thankfully the cups are tiny. They gave me a few little gifts, and
expressed how bittersweet this day was for them. On one hand they are so happy that he has a
family now, but they will miss him tremendously. <br />
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCT2LW4W8qpt6gDFK0Acrv0Ygq7yNo5Kt9z1EY6wg1gbrcPU4T1QGh3AGrs0bK9SfDLXEUdy3qsRsbIua7EoYSW2AbcKiVqmoXvqMP8mazonDK34kxcF1kzuD2k-nnDRl8QC8TWrNgISc/s1600/photo+(6).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCT2LW4W8qpt6gDFK0Acrv0Ygq7yNo5Kt9z1EY6wg1gbrcPU4T1QGh3AGrs0bK9SfDLXEUdy3qsRsbIua7EoYSW2AbcKiVqmoXvqMP8mazonDK34kxcF1kzuD2k-nnDRl8QC8TWrNgISc/s320/photo+(6).JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Handprint for the orphanage</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVEdcMzmiy6D3nZoH7U3Ot-Dzd2V-w90TUDnK65wV3VkvrirfR4SuD2W4zJmYSahXNBpopeG9-pDxewfN2NytqqriBMkoAXS_ILhs7LyaViKDbGQmekyaSidxBr-GtFHrngztJOMeYtjlH/s1600/photo+(7).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVEdcMzmiy6D3nZoH7U3Ot-Dzd2V-w90TUDnK65wV3VkvrirfR4SuD2W4zJmYSahXNBpopeG9-pDxewfN2NytqqriBMkoAXS_ILhs7LyaViKDbGQmekyaSidxBr-GtFHrngztJOMeYtjlH/s320/photo+(7).JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elliot has been with this girl for the last year. Staff said they were very close.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After the formalities were over, we were stuck waiting for
our driver to come back to get us. We
hung out around the orphanage, chatting with the staff and watching Elliot run
around like the king of the castle. He
was loving the special privilege of being downstairs for so long. I watched him play soccer with the guard,
pray for more people, and steal snacks from the kitchen. It really was neat to see his true self come
out. Next thing I know, he comes around the corner with diarrhea all the way up
his back—all over his ceremonial wear! I didn't know how to deal with it, I only had so many wipes, and it was
everywhere!. One of the staff told me the
nannies would take care of it upstairs because they had a shower where they could
rinse him off. She started to bring him
up the stairs and he looked back at me with big tears, and started leaning for
me and crying. I of course came to his
rescue and walked up there with him. While the nannies changed him, I waited in
the room where he used to be. It was
naptime so the babies/toddlers were in various stages of napping. Some were asleep, some were being
changed. I looked over where I had seen
Elliot sleep a few times and saw a little guy probably about 18 months old sitting
up, clutching a blanket, and making that nursing suckling sound. He kept taking the blanket up to his mouth
and trying to nurse it while he dozed off.
It just about broke my heart in two.
On one hand, I was thankful he actually was able to nurse for a time,
but on the other so heartbroken knowing that was no longer a reality for
him. Who knows what his story is, or how
long he had his mom, but regardless it got a hold of me in way I wasn't expecting. My heart was just breaking
for all of these babies…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Back downstairs, we
spent a lot of time talking with the head social worker who had told me about Elliot’s
praying. Her heart for the kids was on
her sleeve, and it was really special to hear her share about her faith and
thoughts about everything. She shared
with us her great dream for her daughter to be able to go to university in America. Before we left, I really felt like God was telling me to give her my necklace. The necklace
was incredibly special to me, as it was given to me by my girls before I left
for my first trip. It said ‘miracles
happen every day.’ I wore it every day
my first trip and Elliot clung to it many times. At the guesthouse the last 24 hours, he would
find it and give it to me all the time.
Not only did the necklace play a large part in our initial bonding, it
was also a special gift from my best friends.
Yet looking at the passion in this woman’s eyes, I knew my time with it
was over. So before we left, I took it
off my neck and placed it around hers. I
said, ‘this necklace has been such a blessing to me for my time in Ethiopia, it
was a gift from my dearest friends, it says, ‘miracles happen every day,’ and
it just so turns out I already got my miracle. He’s in the car waiting for
me. Its your turn now. I pray it brings you many miracles now. I promise to raise this boy in the way of the
Lord. Thank you for taking him this far.’ It was incredibly special to share that time with her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Back in the car, we made our way to the guesthouse and left
Hilawe for the last time. It was bittersweet for sure. But for the most part, it was so incredibly freeing-- He was all mine now. Back at the guesthouse, we napped again, had
dinner and went to sleep with the great joy that we were leaving the very next
day.</div>
</div>
Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-21299995260870099942013-02-26T08:57:00.002-08:002013-02-26T08:57:37.166-08:00Day 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was pretty trippy to go to sleep as a mother of 3 on sunday night and
know when I woke up that I would physically have 4 children. Elliot has legally been ours since court, but
since he wasn't in our possession I really didn't feel like I had 4 kids. As I wrote on day 1, I was pretty nervous
about seeing him again. The way it worked was that even though we flew in
Sunday, we couldn't go see him til Monday morning. And the Monday morning visit would be only 10
minutes to reconnect before I had to whisk him away to our embassy appointment. I woke up early, had some tea, got to pray
and read a bit. I had a lot of peace and
was thankful that God has really allowed me to be in the moment this whole
trip. Every time I started to try and
predict what it would be like with him these next couple days, God would just
shut it down. So when Abrehem poked his
head through the gate, I knew it was time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When we pulled up to the gates of the orphanage, we saw a
lot of the little guys were outside. It
was neat to see them playing outside, because during our court trip I didn't see the nannies take them outside at all.
I thought maybe Elliot would be out there, but he wasn't. They told me he was upstairs getting dressed
and to wait outside. I sat on the ground
and played with all the little ones.
They were so cute and friendly, it was hard not to want to scoop them
all up. One of the nannies popped her
head out and said he was ready. I walked
up the 3 flights and saw his little face over the gate of one of the
rooms. I immediately crouched low and
crawled over to him. I started talking
low and whispering to him that his mom was back and we were going to go home
now. Of course he didn't understand a
word, but I wanted to give him some space but also try and comfort him. Then I got out my phone and started showing
him pictures of the last time I saw him.
I showed him a video of him and I and several pictures. He started showing some interest, and then
once I let him hold my phone, I was in<span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I carried him downstairs.
He was bit hesitant, but wasn't reaching for the nannies. We walked out
and got in the car and he let out a couple little cries. I held him close and tried to reassure
him. By the time we were down the road
he had wrapped his body around mine and was gripping my shirt. I held him tight and scratched his back. As usual there was massive traffic getting to
the US embassy, and before I knew it he had fallen right asleep on me. It was the best feeling ever.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Embassy was incredibly anti-climatic. We showed them our passports, waited in a room
for about 5 mins, then they called our name.
I walked up to a window and a man asked me a couple questions, then
said, 'congratulations, your adoption is complete.' We left and headed
back to the guesthouse.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had asked the social worker prior to our arrival to have
the going away party right after embassy.
They assured me this would be no problem. I wanted to make a clean break from the
orphanage, I didn't want to have to take him back after he had been away. So when we got back and they told me the
party now wouldn't be until Tuesday, I was pretty bummed. Knowing there was nothing I could do, I just
accepted that was the way it would be.
The head social worker of the orphanage called me into the office so
they could tell me a bit about Elliot’s schedule. We went over some basics about what he eats,
when he sleeps, personality etc. It was
neat to hear more about his personality.
They told me he is the leader of the toddlers, very outgoing, and a happy
boy. Since all I had witnessed up until
that point was a quiet little guy, it was fun to hear about his real self. After everyone had left the office, it was
just me and Elliot and the social worker.
I started to get up to leave, but she stopped me. She said, ‘can I ask you a small question?’ I said, ‘yes, of course- anything.’ She looked up and said, ‘are you a Christian?’
I said, ‘I am.’ With much relief she
said, ‘oh good, that is of the most importance.’ I went on to tell her about
our faith, community and that we are praying that a life following Jesus was in Elliot’s
future. She said, ‘that’s good, because
he is going to be a pastor. Watch this.’ Then the boy, who I've heard utter only one
or two words, places his hand on her head and says something in Amharic and
then a big amen! It was so crazy. She went on to tell me how he prays for
everyone. It was pretty special to say
the least.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNJBOEYeKPPbZPSA6v-cPiIYKRVlCg3o9k_Pb3dw6dDtwiH15oNdyKP6zsacuPbe4Dpwa-ig0QsfFzGEBgweypZIfmWP-B_BK2ap-JI919rV6mCnLNWwQZbI2uN8b7Es8rA-Eh-jOCj6RR/s1600/photo+%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNJBOEYeKPPbZPSA6v-cPiIYKRVlCg3o9k_Pb3dw6dDtwiH15oNdyKP6zsacuPbe4Dpwa-ig0QsfFzGEBgweypZIfmWP-B_BK2ap-JI919rV6mCnLNWwQZbI2uN8b7Es8rA-Eh-jOCj6RR/s320/photo+%25281%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elliot with nannies and staff at Hilawe</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We left Hilawe and headed back to the guesthouse. He seemed pretty tired, so I just laid him
down in the bed next to me and we fell asleep within minutes. Four hours later, there was a knock at the door telling
us it was time for dinner. Elliot sat
down and ate a whole plate of spaghetti and then about half of mine. The boy can put it back. It was awesome! After dinner we got our best glimpse of his
true self. He started smiling and laughing and playing with toys and just being
generally adorable. We finally made our
way up to our room to get ready for bed, but he was still wide awake from that
crazy nap. So for the next hour he
opened and closed these Tupperware tubs my mom brought. He filled them with stuff from around the
room then jammed it all in the cupboard in our room. He organized and rearranged the shoes and toys. He was totally entertained for a good
hour. I started to get tired, so I turned
out one of the lights and tried to lay him down next to me. He got right up and kept playing. After 10 mins more of playing, I finally put
him in the bed and turned out the light.
He was asleep within minutes! He
slept the entire night without waking.
It was crazy to wake up every so often and here his little breath. Occasionally
he would let out a little whimper or sigh and I would take my hand and place it
on his chest. He finally woke up around 7… I was a little nervous to see how he would
be in the morning. But lo and behold he
rolled right over and gave me a big ol smile. Perfect end to a perfect beginning.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Selah</div>
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Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-17124655795219575422013-02-24T07:31:00.000-08:002013-02-24T07:31:06.708-08:00Day 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m about an hour from touching down in Addis. The plane ride has, for the most part, been
pretty uneventful which I’m super thankful for… however I’m a little concerned
about getting the chainsaw in my checked bag through customs! I’m even more thankful to have my mom by my
side on this trip. As I have mentioned more
than once, the first trip we (Brandon and I) took to Ethiopia back in October
was the hardest thing I’ve done in my adult life. Many factors contributed to my anxiety—from
stress about how the kids back home would fare without us, to the unthinkable –
some type of accident while traveling.
Add those to the stress of being in a new country and meeting your two
year old son for the first time. Yet as
I should know by now, God’s grace came in such abundance, that my every little
concern was covered in multitudes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was always our intention to travel back the second time
together. Since it is not a requirement for both parents to come for the second
visit, many adoptive families chose to have only one parent come. Since the second trip is so short, having
only one parent (the primary caregiver) come is a great way to offset the
overall adoption cost. For us it was
only about 6 weeks ago that we decided maybe both of us wouldn't come. Many people were surprised that Brandon was
okay with staying back this time. Once we began throwing the idea around of having my mom come, I was amazed at the peace God gave me about
the trip. Brandon graciously told me he
wanted to do whatever was best for our entire family. Being able to be totally focused on Elliot
this trip was my top priority. As
amazing as it would be having B here, I know that the stress of how the kids
back home were doing would make me lose focus. Knowing B is home caring for our
babies makes all of this so much easier.
Having a mom whose heart is so
inclined for the impoverished, and a heart so full of love for Jesus and all
children was the best traveling companion I could have asked for. Not to mention, I can be my WHOLE self around
her, and much like labor, feeling safe in this journey is of paramount
importance.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The weeks leading up to this trip have been some of the
busiest of my life. As if juggling 3
kids, a husband, and many extracurricular events wasn’t enough, I suddenly was
hit with a massive wave of work. I’ve
been a real estate broker for almost 8 years, yet about 6 months ago I made the
decision to go work for a local company.
Previously I just worked from home, mostly with friends and family, and
averaged about 2-3 deals a year. I’m on
track to close more escrows in 1 year with SLO realty than all the deals I did
as a broker for myself the last 7 years .
I wasn’t sure how well I would transition in to being a working mom, but
without even knowing I went from very part time to almost full time. Thankfully, I really love what I do, so I didn't even realize how consumed I became.
Instead of being super stressed about leaving the kids this go around, I
became super stressed about leaving my open escrows. Yet, like my first trip, my amazing community
rallied around me and is standing in the gaps for me. As I have some time to finally reflect, I’m
really realizing how much God used all the work these last couple weeks to
totally curb my anxiety about traveling.
I was actually to busy to worry about anything but work!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I found myself saying things like the ‘storm before the
calm’ these last few weeks. I know I
can’t fully comprehend just how much my life will change in 1 week. To go from working my booty off, to girls
nights, solo trail runs, date nights with my husband, pedicures with lily, to
being a true blue stay at home mom is going to be a very interesting transition. It’s not easy for me to have to think about
saying no to things, but I have to keep reminding myself that these next few
months with Elliot are so critical. That
establishing his trust and confidence in me has to outweigh everything. I know
it will be such a battle with my flesh, yet as He continues to do, I’m
trusting my God will give me everything I need to walk this out. Please be praying for me in this.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As many of you know, international adoption is quite
costly. B and I were fully prepared to incur
any debt for this adoption. There were
times our credit cards got to high, and we had to wait to take the next step,
yet either through gifts, an AMAZING fundraiser, or a closed escrow, I am so
proud to say that we will walk away from this adoption 100% debt free. For all of you who have contributed either
monetarily, or by watching my kids so I could work, or by having me be your
realtor, my heart is so full of thanks and gratitude. I love seeing God in the details….</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-82945958107075274492013-02-22T22:39:00.000-08:002013-02-22T22:39:02.783-08:00Home Part 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s been almost 4 months since I last saw my son. Many people have asked me if it was really
hard to leave him our first and only week together. One of my biggest fears prior to taking our
first trip was just how hard it would be to leave him. I replayed so many scenarios through my brain
about our goodbye and just how much my heart would hurt leaving him. I imagined the pain and anguish I would
convey when I had to tell the story of our first goodbye. So when we arrived home and I was first asked
about our goodbye I was almost embarrassed to say how not hard it was. Saying goodbye to Elliot, much like this
entire experience, has been anything but textbook. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I wrote in my prior blogs about our court trip, Elliot
was extremely attached to the ‘nannies’ (caregivers) at the orphanage. He made it very clear that he would tolerate
us, but he preferred them. It was
extremely encouraging to know that he could, and was attached to these
women. After all, they had been his
mommies for as long as he could remember.
Leaving Elliot with these women was not only easy, but it felt so
right. And as any mom would tell you, your
child’s happiness trumps just about everything.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I guess it goes without saying that my anxiety level
about having to take him from his home far trumps any goodbye I've had thus
far. It’s a strange thing to be
trembling with excitement about finishing a 2 year process, but also be
struggling with pangs of guilt as I prepare to traumatize my son.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know you’ll say something like, ‘oh, but think about the
amazing family and home he is coming in to.’ Or , ‘he’ll adjust so quickly, how
could he not love having a real mom and dad.’
And I agree. I really do. I keep saying things like, ‘it’s short term
pain for long term gain.’ Or, ‘you’re
right, life in an orphanage is not an easy road.’ All of these are true, and it does help my
brain to feel better about all this, but as a mom, it absolutely breaks my
heart. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Adoption never claimed to be a perfect solution. In a perfect world, every child would have at
least one parent who loves them unconditionally. For some reason, my first choice for Elliot didn't work out. And so tonight, I leave
everything I hold sacred and safe, and board 2 flights for 20+ hours to find,
hold, protect and LOVE the son that was not born of my body, but born of my
heart. The son that God knew that one
day would be ours and would finally complete our family, from the moment I laid
eyes on that blond hair, blue eyed boy at CCS.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
‘For where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will
stay. Your people will be my people and
your God my God.’ Ruth 1:16</div>
</div>
Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-60672819334767819892012-10-29T21:41:00.000-07:002012-10-29T21:41:03.067-07:00day 5<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
when the ET lawyer for our agency casually recommended we be
at the office today at 1 or 1:30 for our court appointment i was a little
flustered simply because no other details were allotted. i was still not totally sure what was
supposed to shake down while we are here.
we woke up this morning planning on heading over to see elliot before
court, but since the van broke down monday the ride situation got a little
dicey. we ended up just getting a ride
to the office, signing some paperwork and essentially preparing for court. when we met with the social worker we
realized a few things about elliot's history. it was all stuff we have copies
of, but to hear it explained to us by the social worker was really
enlightening. learning more about where
he was from was really cool for us.
turns out another couple that was there for court was going to the
region he was from and agreed to take a bunch of pictures and email us. that was super cool and we are looking
forward to seeing those soon. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
after the paperwork we had about an hour to kill which was
not enough time to go see elliot so we got dropped off at this coffee shop that
is a starbucks knock off. pretty funny
to almost feel like we were at home.
when 1:30 rolled around and no one was there to pick us up i began to
get a little uneasy. since i had
recently learned more about the ethiopians ideas about timing, i was a little
prepared but surely court couldn't be this casual? just as i began to really ask b to do
something (i nor he had any idea what to do since we didn't have a phone or a
number to call) our driver and the social worker rolled up. we made our way to court, which was simply a
room on the second floor of an inconspicuous building near the airport. we took an elevator up to the second floor and walked down the hall to the waiting room where our
social worker signed us in-- or at least we think
that's what she did. there was a piece
of paper floating around that everyone was signing and fussing over. there were tons of ferenge in the room as
well as many ethiopians. the room was buzzing with nervous energy at least from us ferenge as we looked each other
up and down all stuffy in our 'nice' clothes.
a girl poked her head out of a side door and said a number, and an american
couple stood with their social worker and walked in. they came out 5 minutes later smiling and
tearing up. this went on for the next
hour and a half. still our number was
not called. about halfway through our
wait and older american couple-- probably in their late 50's, early 60's walked
in with 3 ethiopian children-- a girl about 12, a boy about 9, and another girl
about 7. i didn't think much of it til i
saw where they were walking to. in the
corner of the room was an ethiopian couple.
it quickly became evident they were the children's biological
parents. suddenly there was a lot of
crying from both sets of parents.... and of course me. as in <i>i. couldn't. stop. crying.</i> this was stressful on many levels. one, i wasn't expecting this much emotion,
and two, the judge could call us in any minute-- i had to get it together. our social worker explained that the white
parents had sponsored the 3 kids and had them living in america for the
past year or so. now they were back because the kids ET
parents wanted the american couple to adopt them. this did not help matters for me. by now the ET women around me were beginning to become concerned about me. they
kept asking why i was crying and b said, 'cuz she's happy,' which was not the
truth at all. our social worker told us
that this was a very good thing and the other
ET women in the court who were also emotional were very happy about
this. that made me feel a little
better, but not entirely.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
you see, adoption is a funny thing. it is by no means a perfect solution. anyone who disillusions themselves otherwise
will be sorely disappointed. yesterday
while talking with the manager at our hotel she said to me, 'your son is very
lucky.' it wasn't the first time i had
heard some variation of that, and i know people mean well when they say things
like that, but i often find myself with nothing to say in response. it's no secret that the every adult ethiopian
we met would love to come to
america. america represents hope and change, a way to move up
in the world. yet, they don't love the
idea of us adopting their children. i
understand both. adopting a child from a
third world country has nothing to do with bringing them to america,<b> it has
everything to do with providing a child with a mom and dad who will love them
forever</b>. every child deserves that. so to see this ethiopian father weeping in
the court as he mourns the physical loss of his children from here on out, i
couldn't help but be torn apart. yet on
the other hand i see such a selfless love pouring out of them as they realize
that the life their children will now have will include not only unconditional love, but every physical amenity possible-- as well as the opportunity
for an exceptional education and college.
as soon as i saw those 3 kids, i saw lily, ozzy, and tali. and i asked myself if i possessed that kind
of selflessness. our social worker
mentioned this was a case of 'extreme poverty.'
would i love my kids enough to recognize that my love wasn't enough for
them? is that even the case?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
so there i was sneaking glances, trying to hold it together
as these ET kids showed their mom and dad pictures of their new house, their
new school, their own room! all in
shiny, beautiful, america! soon enough
their name was called and just like that a new family was forged. i was thankful that these kids now had 2 moms
and 2 dads to call them daughter and son as bittersweet as it was.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
by now we were were the last ferenge in the room. i was really starting to wonder if in fact
the court thing was cancelled after all.
our social worker had some words with the girl calling numbers and next
thing we knew we were escorted into a small room. we sat in 2 folding chairs and faced a middle
aged woman behind a desk. our social
worker had prepped us somewhat, but more importantly she had told us to keep
our answers short-- which was invaluable advice for me, cuz lord knows what
kind of rant i would get on. we answered
a quick yes to about 8 questions on topics from international adoption
education, our thoughts about ethiopia as a country, what our kids thought of
the adoption, and lastly if we had met tegegne.
before i knew it, she looked up and said these sweet, unforgettable words, 'the court
approves this adoption. it will not be
cancelled for any reason from this point forward. congratulations, tegegne is all yours.' more tears from me and and off we went. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
since we didn't get to visit with elliot that morning,
abraham took us over there after court.
this was probably our sweetest visit with him. he was up from his nap and had a snack and
was in a great mood. he still didn't
want to come downstairs so we hung out in his room. 2 other toddlers were
cruising around and they all were fighting over the stuff we had brought for elliot. it was cute to see him say some words to the
other kids and get a little feisty with them. we also got some video of him
cracking up which we can't get enough of.
today was the only day that we left and i felt like he was actually sad
and a little confused. made my heart
hurt to think about. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
to celebrate our victory we
took abraham out to a nice dinner at an indian restaraunt. not the best curry we've had, but it was fun nonetheless. abraham had never had
indian food so it was fun watching him try everything even though he didn't
really care for it. another great day in
ET, can't believe we leave tmrw. that
means goodbye, which are never easy.</div>
</div>
Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-2447024046180665842012-10-23T21:05:00.000-07:002012-10-23T21:05:07.127-07:00day 4<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
it's crazy to think that we leave this place tomorrow. in some ways it feels like we've been here for months, in others its like we just got here. <br />
<br />
today started out a little dicey. i woke up at my usual 6 am after getting my first full night of sleep without taking anything! i hopped out of bed (which i think might be the first time i've ever used the words<br />
'hop out of" and 'bed' in the same sentence). i was anxious to get downstairs and call home. yet once i got down there i realized the wifi wasn't working. no call home, no email, no blog. i was kinda bummed but knew that this sort of thing happened. i mentioned the problem to the manager-- the sweetest girl ever-- and she tried to reset it with no luck. she assured me the IT guy would be here in a half hour. that was at 7 am. i tried to find the email that had all of the ET staff's number so we could call and get a ride to the orphanage and AAI offices. yet the email wasn't there... i had to be connected to the internet. no problem, the IT guy would be there by 9 i was sure. wrong! ET standards of time mean give or take a couple of hours!!! by 10, still no guy. mille (the manager) was aware of our situation and was trying to find us a solution. we couldn't just call a taxi to take us cuz we didn't know the address... just as my stress levels were beginning to escalate (due purely to the fact that i wanted to get to the orphanage by 10 to insure at least 2 hours with elliot before his nap) the owner of the lodge walked in. he is an irish guy who married an ET woman. when mille told me who he was, i went over and thanked him for such a great place to stay. we have been loving it here i told him, and all the staff is just amazing. he was sweet and said he would pass on the message to his wife. i went back to sit with b and we were about to head out to find an internet cafe to get the phone numbers to be able to get the address for the taxi. but since our phones don't work here, we would have to walk to said cafe, get number, walk back to lodge and call. just as we were getting ready to leave, mille comes up and said, joe (the owner) will have his private driver take us to the cafe to get the number! we were so happy. yet it ended up being that joe paid him to take us wherever we wanted. so we made it to the cafe, got the number, had the driver call our ET contact, get the address, drive us to the AAI offices, wait outside for 10 minutes while we chatted with our lawyer, then drive us to see elliot in plenty of time to be with him. seriously SO god!<br />
<br />
when we arrived at hilawe for our second visit, i felt much more comfortable. all of the older kids were at school so it was much more mellow there. we went upstairs and saw our baby boy in his little bed... still in his new jammies:) so, so, so cute. we got out some stickers we had brought him and he spent probably 45 minutes peeling off the little star stickers and putting them on my hand. he was pretty infatuated with it. the staff suggested we go down to the first floor for some privacy. when we tried this on sat, elliot became pretty tense and started to cry. today was no different. as soon as we got back upstairs, he was fine again. today we were in our own private room upstairs which was a step up. baby steps to get him comfortable with us. after he lost interest in the stickers we moved onto some legos they had in the room. he built for awhile with b and i. we tried to show him some pics and videos on our phones, but he was obsessed with pushing the one button on the iphone... just like big sis T. today was the first day that b got to hold him. they looked out the window at trucks for awhile, typical boy. next they brought lunch in. same exact thing he ate on sat... and i have no idea what it is. it looks like a mix between pasta and rice cereal. i can't wait to feed this boy when he comes home. he's gonna have a world of flavor awaiting him! saturday he didn't want us to feed him, so the nannies did. today was the same, but since the nannies were gone we didn't know what to do. so we just gave him the spoon, and lo and behold he was a happy guy. he did pretty well feeding himself, and we realized that he is most likely left handed. so fun! b is left handed, but none of our bio kids are and i'm pretty sure left handed people are smarter than right handers:) after his successful feeding we said goodbye as it was time for his nap. <br />
<br />
as we made our way downstairs, there was a family coming up. we all kind of stalled on the stairs at the same time to put our shoes on and we realized they were there meeting their 6 yr old son for the first time. ahhh, broke my heart in just the right way. seriously so adorable. i, the only one crying at this point, offered to take their picture all together. as soon as the dad picked up ermias, the boy, ermias with a huge smile kissed both him and his new mom on the cheek. it was so raw and so real. i felt so happy to see one of the older kids going to have his very own mom and dad. after chatting with them a bit they told us they had a bio son that was 6 also. so fun.<br />
<br />
we also met a couple other adoptive families that day. a couple from texas with 2 bio boys adopting a 1 yr old baby girl who is absolutely adorable, and a single mom adopting a 1 yr old girl with down syndrome... angel here on earth. seriously, seriously amazing.<br />
<br />
once we got back to the lodge we were were lost without abraham. elani (other staff member) told us he was at the mechanic working on the van that broke down yesterday. i decided to call him and see if he wanted to hang out with us. he answered and i said, 'abraham, we miss you!' he said he'd come over in a couple hours and take us shopping- we'd take the blue donkeys again since the van wasn't fixed yet. i'll have to fill you in on more of his role here and his story one of these days, its pretty remarkable. shopping was pretty hard core and very mexico. we went to the popular toursit shops and as you walk by they say, 'JUST get in here!' its very funny but also very commanding so you listen! once inside they are shoving everything in your face. if you look at one necklace, they take all the necklaces in the store ad lay them before you. very aggressive! we bought a few gifts for people back home and came away pretty sure we got taken. but all for a good cause since most of the stuff is handmade here. <br />
<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<br />
the afternoon winded down as abraham took us to the fancy hilton to use the atm. we cruised around there a bit and were amazed at how fancy and international the place was. we had a drink by the pool and then headed back to the lodge. since yesterday was the first day i hadn't napped, i was falling asleep on the way home. we skipped dinner due to a late lunch and i fell asleep at 8.<br />
<br />
another great day in addis! tomorrow will be amazing as well as we get to go to court, or so we think! please be praying for favor for us.</div>
Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-30574754989140036892012-10-22T04:52:00.000-07:002012-10-22T04:52:20.297-07:00day 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
africa has effectively both stolen and broken my heart all
at once. the polar effect it has had on
me is incredibly overwhelming. one
minute i'm amazed at the strength, beauty, and resolve of these people and
wooed by the incredible scenery, and the next i'm devastated by the complete
and utter lack of poverty and despair.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
in our brief notes frrom our agency on
places to stay, things to do, and places to eat, there was an aside that said
not to give the beggars money. they said it will be incredibly hard not to give change
to the children, but if you do, it simply encourages them not to go to school
and stay on the street and beg. i had my
first test last night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
after our busy day at the orphanage we crashed out for 3
hours. after we dragged ourselves out of
bed we found a restaurant we wanted to try.
b said it was close enough to walk...
in the dark. by ourselves. in
africa. did i mention my husband is
whiter than white (i know i'm not far behind, but at least i have dark<strike> grey
</strike>hair)? as we were walking down back
alleys in the mud to get to the main street we passed many street people. i felt
a little frightened and uncertain, but everything i'd read and seen here was
that the people were not hostile or aggressive.
once we got to the main street i loosened up a bit and was excited for a
date with b. we had a somewhat difficult
time finding the restaurant mostly due to the fact that it was on what they
call the second (our 3rd) floor of a building with no sign. however, b's map skills afforded us the
correct route. we had passed a few
beggars as we walked and although it was hard, i was able to resist the
temptation to empty my pockets. once the
restaurant was in sight we picked up our pace.
with our goal in sight, i just so happened to glance to my left. my heart quickened and my face felt hot as
the tears begin to spring forth. to my
left, on the side of the road there was a girl about 4 yrs old sitting up and
curled up at her feet were 3 tiny boys aged probably 10 months to 2. the girl and i locked eyes and she looked
down. we kept walking and my heart started pounding as i tried desperately to
get a hold of my emotion. b felt me
tense up and tried to comfort me. we
made our way into what we thought was the restaurant but was actually just a
hip bar. we sat down confused, but figured
this must be it since the guy downstairs told us it was on the second
floor. we ordered a drink but found no
food on the menu. we passed the time
with small chit chat, but b knew my heart wasn't in it. we tried to talk about why we weren't
supposed to give them money but failed miserably. at this point we realized the restaurant was actually
on the next floor up so we decided to head up. but first i pleaded with b to go
give them some money. he was hesitant,
but conceded. he got up and said 'let's
go.' i quipped, 'oh honey, i can't
go. i can't see them again... its just
too hard. can you just run down there
(block and a half away) and give them some money?' he just smiled knowing there would be no
other way for the night to continue without this errand. as i waited in the bar i was so thankful that
i married a man whose heart was as big as mine... even if you don't always see
it, those of us close to him know that behind his tough exterior is a lot of raw emotion that comes
out when you least expect it. he came
back and told me their mom was now with them and he gave them some money. a weight had been lifted. at least tonight they would sleep next to
their mom and have a full belly. i tried
not to let the reality that those sweet kids were just 4 in 4 million that were
hungry in ethiopia on that saturday night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
we woke up sunday morning to another nice breakfast and
quiet time. on sundays, the orphange is
closed for visitors. we knew this, but it was still
hard not to be able to go again. since
we weren't doing official orphange business, abraham couldn't drive us in the
agency van, yet he agreed to spend the day with us touring. he met us at the lodge at 8:30 and we had
our first experience in an ethiopian taxi.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">we fit right in, right?!</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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i can't even began to describe this. there are several common modes of transport
here. all ferenge take a taxi called the
blue donkey which is a tiny blue 4 seater, or have a private driver. the ethiopians however, take these blue 12
passenger vans to get around. yet they don't
just go when and where you want. there
are routes and they only go when the van is full--- meaning 12 or more
passengers. our driver abraham told us
to follow his lead. we took probably 5
of these taxi's to get to get to a place called entoto. it was incredibly unnerving being in these
cars. the way people drive here has no
rules, very few stoplights and lots of honking.
yet somehow no one is ever mad.
honking is like saying, 'hello!' and they do it very freely. we almost crashed, or so i thought, at least
7 times. and the amount of pedestrians
we almost clipped were too numerous to count.</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">people are always in the street, probably doing 40 mph here</span></i></div>
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finally we arrived to the base of the mountain where we opted to hike the 2 miles up (thank
you brandon). abraham told us no family
has ever asked to hike up the mountain, and by the end i could see why. it was not an easy hike, especially with the
altitude. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPVExsKk92eiHmzg_o6fQ2VBNLp2ewIcq0dVemK4Zpghi0aiVjJJmbEbezw9VUEc2lsqI9J9nhM2vOAXBpWeVWfWTh106K_hungpN0oqz-VdGVmhPlQzB_VaujMZ16vBg6Y1TUqBdnHcE/s1600/007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPVExsKk92eiHmzg_o6fQ2VBNLp2ewIcq0dVemK4Zpghi0aiVjJJmbEbezw9VUEc2lsqI9J9nhM2vOAXBpWeVWfWTh106K_hungpN0oqz-VdGVmhPlQzB_VaujMZ16vBg6Y1TUqBdnHcE/s320/007.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> felt pretty lame about complaining when i saw these ladies. this is their job. they trek through the mountains for a day or two collecting about this much wood, tie it to their backs and walk down... all to sell the bundle for about $3 US. 2 days of back breaking work. humbling to say the least</span></i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjwI9XUyqku2__QOvXcPrj6hdftU5Au1k6K-4nZjPVQm7-UzomdMbOYyzGXdGaLfwJVyI-Q_C-uH5rMVFRY-lhRBP8jIuxjykhyphenhyphenUM48_1SZJtZxK9D3hDmxGrZKotg6W_jyc3EkYbZsO0E/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjwI9XUyqku2__QOvXcPrj6hdftU5Au1k6K-4nZjPVQm7-UzomdMbOYyzGXdGaLfwJVyI-Q_C-uH5rMVFRY-lhRBP8jIuxjykhyphenhyphenUM48_1SZJtZxK9D3hDmxGrZKotg6W_jyc3EkYbZsO0E/s320/008.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>another mode of transport</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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when we finally reached the
top it was well worth it. the whole city laid out before us... it was absolutely breathtaking.</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">beautiful addis</span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqYred-YsbuPT77o32YIs2Yx3cfdC7g4fYdcA0rfWUCpY5x5xjLAQncMYB7f91NsmCJmy-0VtlRY-pCdTjOIqsx-8Hu79azPdHwAyMI-rmat-ULg3xNmmVSjXv03F_xR5rOrHzO5Gn2akF/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqYred-YsbuPT77o32YIs2Yx3cfdC7g4fYdcA0rfWUCpY5x5xjLAQncMYB7f91NsmCJmy-0VtlRY-pCdTjOIqsx-8Hu79azPdHwAyMI-rmat-ULg3xNmmVSjXv03F_xR5rOrHzO5Gn2akF/s320/010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>abraham, our driver and new bestie over here</i></span></div>
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we toured around a bit up there. the guy that founded addis ababa had a
palace and a church we could walk through as well as a historical museum. it was really cool to have abraham tell us
all about the history of addis. </div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">the orthodox church at the top of the mountain. don't look at my shorts, it was very stressful not having any shorts i felt that were long enough to wear here</span></i></span></div>
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it made me fall in love with this place even
more. we made our way down the mountain
and had a few more harebrained taxi rides and enjoyed a nice lunch with
abraham. we spent the afternoon sleeping
again. we woke up at 6 as abraham was
coming to get us to take us to a traditional ethiopian dinner. this was by far one of the highlights of the
trip. we got a taste of ethiopian food
and got to watch some amazing tribal dancing and singing. </div>
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<i style="font-size: small;">let the sharting begin!</i></div>
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i've got some super sweet videos to share
once we get stateside-- unfortunately takes to long to upload here.</div>
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all in all another incredible day here. tomorrow proves to be even better as we get
to hang with our boy and take care of some official adoption business with our
agency. please pray it goes smoothly and
we will have favor with the staff and authorities here. </div>
</div>
Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-50362898197246520272012-10-20T21:41:00.002-07:002012-10-20T21:41:45.803-07:00day 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
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since i poured my heart out yesterday, i'll try to give you
guys a play by play of today-- cuz i know its a day i never want to
forget. </div>
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<br /></div>
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we woke up saturday morning earlier than we wanted, methinks
the jet lag was catching up. our driver,
abraham was coming at 8:45 to pick us up and take us to hilawe (the orphanage
elliot is at). we had about 2 hours to
kill. thankfully the place we are
staying provides a really nice breakfast and a quaint little cafe with free
wifi to hang out at. we got caught up
with emails and facebook and had some time to read. god had given me psalm 121 about a week after
we got our referral for elliot. i read
it today and was reminded again, just as this entire trip has been one GIANT reminder
of god's love for his children. these verses specifically have continued to resonate with me as i think about our boy... 'the lord will keep you from all harm- he will watch over your life; the lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.' what a promise. </div>
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<br /></div>
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i kept
thinking i was going to start feeling anxious or nervous to meet him, but i had
a real surprising peace (probably due to all that praying i've been begging
for). up until this point, this moment
wasn't one that i had thought much about.
i think i wanted to protect myself from to high or to low expectations. </div>
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abraham--who happens to be a super cool guy and amazing tour
guide was right on time. he did his usual bit about all the touristy
things we might want to know, which consisted mostly of unmanned herds of
sheep, goats and cows strewn about in the middle of the city. i was surprised now that i was seeing the city in the
daylight how much it reminded me of mexico. a midst shacks there were lots of unfinished buildings
but also sprinkled in were super fancy high rises. it was very polar to say the least. abraham first took us over to the layla house,
which is where our agency used to have their orphanage.</div>
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i had heard lots of great things about the
place, so it was weird to see it almost totally empty. now our agency doesn't pull children from one
orphanage, but several. after layla
house we picked up a gal from our agencies ethiopian staff. next thing i knew we were pulling into the
gates of hilawe. we were minutes from seeing
tegegne for the first time.</div>
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as we parked the car there was a big group of americans
gathered right out front. they were
a group from the US doing some
medical mission work. they were
basically a group of doctors and nurses going from orphanage to orphanage doing
check ups on the kids. it was nice to
have them there as we weren't the only 'ferenge' (what ethiopians call white
people). the orphanage was big and
actually really nice inside. hardwood
floors, clean rooms etc. it seemed very
organized. we walked in the front door
and went up the first flight of stairs to the second level. there were quite a few older kids (5+)
hanging around. these kids were so
stinkin adorable and so so so so sweet. they wanted to shake our hands and they
just smiled and smiled. the boys were
outgoing and girls shy. seriously such
beautiful children. it was then that i
started crying. i was really surprised
how affected i was by these kids. i've
seen posts on our adoption group with people pleading to consider adopting
older children. now i see why. perhaps some of it was seeing lily and ozzy's
eyes among the ones i saw today. it
really shook me.</div>
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we made our way up to the second set of stairs and saw 2
rooms. the first room had a gate and 3
little ones probably all under 18 months hanging on the gate. they were adorable, and my first glimpse of
babies. i looked into the room next to
it and sitting on the floor i saw him. <i>
i recognized him right away</i>. he looked just like his pictures, but even
cuter. the thing that surprised me the
most was how tiny he was. the pictures
made it seem like he was bigger, but the kid is seriously little. the nannies (caregivers at the orphanage)
immediately start saying 'tegegne, mommy poppy' and pointing to us. i bent down and more and more tears
came. as i sat down to be at his level
he just looked at me, taking it all in.
next thing i knew he was in my lap cuddled right up. the staff suggested we go downstairs in the
lobby area and play with him. we walked
down and sat on a chair. he wasn't
interested in getting out of my lap. we
gave him a little truck we had brought and he held onto it as we showed him
some pictures from the little photo book we gave him. he kind of started to get a little fussy and
at that point one of the nannies brought him some milk in a sippy cup. we realized it might be better to take him
back up to his room. this was the right
choice. once up there he climbed out of my lap and started to loosen up a bit.
it was cute to see him interact with his little roommates. we played trucks, looked at more pictures and
really just hung out. babies would cry
and we would hold them as the nannies went about their work. we gave him some jammies we had bought him
and the nannies put them on him. i wish
i could show all of you how adorable he looked in them. a couple of the medical missions people came
in and started chatting with us. they offered to take a look at him which was
super cool. the lady who visited with us told us he seemed pretty healthy, he
def had a pretty good cough going but then again all the kids had runny noses
and coughs. she said she works at a lot
of orphanages and that we were very fortunate because hilawe is a really nice
one. that made me feel really good. the doctor estimated that he was between 18
months and 2. i could tell how much
elliot loved his nannies as well. i felt
really happy that he was so attached to them.
by the end of our 2 hour visit, the nannies were asking him to point to
mommy and poppy in the pictures and he was.
i don't think he really grasped the situation but i was happy to know
that he seemed reasonably comfortable with us.
it was hard to say goodbye, but i felt like our time was really rich.</div>
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all in all it was a pretty amazing day. elliot was everything i hoped for and
more. i know it will be an adjustment
for all of us, but i'm so happy and thankful to be able to actually do
something about all of these orphans. it
literally breaks my heart into pieces being around them. if it's hard to imagine, peek into your
babies room while they sleep... and try and imagine for just one moment, that you
don't exist in their world. you won't be there in the morning to cuddle him in
your bed, or make him his favorite breakfast, or tell them you love them. in fact no one person is there to do
that. it's incredibly painful to know
that elliot has never had this... that he's probably never been to a park,
never ridden in a car, let alone a stroller.
he's never had the same warm body to hold and tell him that he is
perfect and loved...</div>
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i can't wait for this to change.... </div>
</div>
Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-77778102960339737502012-10-19T22:41:00.001-07:002012-10-19T22:41:19.138-07:00day 1<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
i read this morning stenciled across the bathroom wall of my
in laws house that 'life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.' i'm
not one for signs necessarily, but i can't tell you how much i needed those
words from dear old helen keller.</div>
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you see, it wasn't long ago that i considered myself a pretty carefree, adventurous girl. i was by no means
reckless, but i loved the idea of the unknown, and i was almost always up for
an anything. 5 months after
i met brandon we filed electronically (quite possibly the first year it was
offered, and quickly got banned from e-file) and got a measly enough tax return to head to england for spring
break. we had no agenda and a place to stay only for a couple days, the rest we would figure out along the way. we partied our way to the airport
where we lost our passports temporarily, but somehow managed to make it across
the pond with everything intact. 3 years later we booked flights to new zealand for our honeymoon and had not one accommodation booked. all we had was a car waiting for us at the airport. 3 solid weeks of tripping around the north island was our idea of the best trip ever. i was
up for anything and everything, there was so much to do!</div>
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naturally things slowed down after we got married and had a
few kids. my desire to not miss a thing
now extends itself to being terribly troubled if i don't make it to the beach
on a sunny day. the adventuress holly
still exists, but its locked away within the confines of low risk and utmost
safety for myself and my family.</div>
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so when it comes to leaving my 3 precious children and
flying halfway around the world to a country that has sporadic electricity and
such severe poverty that makes your heart hurt, i realized i was in over my
head.</div>
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it would literally take pages and pages to even begin to
contain the amount of anxiety i've had leading up to this trip. since i'm not typically a girl who struggles
with anxiety, i have found myself in uncharted territory. its a place i'm not proud of, yet through it
all i have come to realize a lot about myself and the faith i profess.</div>
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we are about to land in addis ababa. we have been flying for
almost 24 hours. tomorrow i will travel
to an orphanage in a city of 2 million people and meet my son (one of hundreds
of thousands of orphans in ethiopia) for the first time. <i>i can tell you without a doubt that this the hardest thing i have ever
done in my life.</i> i can also assure
you that without the massive amount of prayers that have been offered on our
behalf, i wouldn't be on this plane. i
have never needed jesus as much as i have in the last 72 hours. somehow i know the next week will be more of the
same. i also had no idea how fair
weathered and puny my faith was. i have
been pleading for prayers from best friends and strangers alike. i literally cannot hear enough prayers on our
behalf... never have i been so desperate and never have i felt so much peace a midst raging storm inside my mind.</div>
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everybody says adoption is hard. and i'm just barely in, but i can assure you
its not for the faint of heart. when my
thoughts get unleashed and start crashing around my brain causing me to wonder
who on earth would travel this far leaving the safety of a sweet little family
in the happiest place on earth (btw-- these are surprisingly the first doubts
i've had in this process, which leads me to believe that greater things were at
work this last week) i have to remember that this calling was so much more than us wanting a 4th child. and though i
wrestle with these doubts and many others, i keep going back to this one
parable... the pearl of great price-- which, ironically, was prophesied over me
just a few months after i got saved. at
the time, and up until this point, i've never known why, or what it would mean.
finally, i do. Elliot is my pearl, and i
will leave everything to find him-- because he, and every other orphan we'll
see this next week deserves a mom and a dad who will love him forever.</div>
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as my dear friend lealah says, we are just the vessel. please continue to pray for us, and for our
children at home, for our dear parents that are watching them and all are
friends who are standing in the gaps for us.
we would not be here without our tribe.</div>
Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-7819676343454954842012-10-12T13:44:00.001-07:002012-10-12T13:44:22.416-07:00i really thought we would be differentwell, it's with a heavy heart i write this post. this morning i got a call from our agency explaining that MOWA (ministry of women's affairs) in ethiopia has 'temporarily' suspended adoptions with our agency. even if i had the time and energy to explain what that means, i really couldn't because i don't totally understand it either. ethiopia does... what ethiopia wants. but i can tell you that it means something very major for our family and for our sweet boy. we won't be traveling to ethiopia next week as planned... unless God does a crazy huge miracle-- which i'm trying desperately not to put past him.<br />
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to say i'm feeling a lot of things right now would be a vast understatement. if i had a nickel for every person that told me about 'their friends adoption story' that always involved massive delays and disappointments i would probably have at least $5. for real though, all these stories i hear all the time are actually happening to us! i'm sure i sound incredibly narcissistic, but honestly this process-- though long-- has actually been really easy. i really thought we were going to be the exception! <b>we were going to be able to tell the world that adoption can be easy and AWESOME!</b><br />
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not to mention, we are in the middle of the most amazing outpouring of support from are friends and family to bring this baby boy home. i feel sick just thinking about how much effort and time and money everyone has put in and all we can bring to the table now is that we just don't know when. arggghhhh. <br />
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yet now we've been tossed with the masses for everyone to tell our sad story as we try and pick up the pieces of months of planning and anticipation.<br />
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although its hard, its by far not the hardest part. to know our son has to go another night not knowing his mom and dad and brother and sisters is almost unbearable. <br />
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i've been thinking a lot about this process this last week as my mind labors through every scenario and thought about traveling to ethiopia. from how will my 3 kids here fare, to holding him for the first time. people call adoption being <i>paper pregnant</i>. and while i'll concede that there are similarities, it is obviously vastly different. however, this morning's call was like one i received while pregnant with ozzy. after our ultrasound with him, we were ecstatic to know we would be welcoming a baby boy. 3 days later we got a call saying there was something abnormal in the ultrasound. we were devastated and scared out of our minds. the next few months were so, so, sooooo difficult for us. those feelings have descended again. when will this end? when will it begin? so many unanswered questions.<br />
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yet a midst all of this pain, sadness and frustration, i'm reminded that i serve a God that is never caught off guard. if i profess total and complete faith in him, then i have to know that his timing to bring elliot home will be perfect.<br />
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in the meantime, <i>please</i>--if you see me just give me a hug... and say those famous words, 'its going to be okay,' and don't be surprised if i'm less than enthused to talk about.<br />
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thank you all for your continued love and support.<br />
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PLEASE pray for a miracle that the authorities in ethiopia would change their mind early next week and we would be able to go as planned, and always for God's perfect will for our lives and the grace to walk it out.<br />
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thank you from the bottom of our hearts.<br />
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<br />Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-81236001877206936112012-10-05T17:50:00.000-07:002012-10-05T17:57:25.257-07:00Elliot3 months since my last post. so, so, so sad. another 3 months before this last one. downright despicable. <br />
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i don't know why i think that i can go so long without purging my soul to the cyber world. i forget how much i feel like i'm going to split right open any minute from not having this fleeting little release. </div>
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yet time passes on... and much like wanting so badly to connect with an old best friend, you can't ever bring yourself to do it cuz you know the conversation will be so long. wonderful, but long. so you keep 'missing' their call and tell yourself next week, next week for sure.</div>
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i reckon its finally next week and here i am. and what do you know, i don't even know where to begin.</div>
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oh wait, yes i do. i leave for ethiopia in 13 days. in 2 weeks, i will walk into an orphanage all the way across the world and meet my second born son. i will meet the boy that God knew one day would be mine. i will spend 5 sweet days with him and then i will have to leave him... only to return 3 months (lord willing) later to bring him home forever. even if i tried to summarize all that i'm feeling and anticipating and worrying about i know it would fall short. when you've lived for 33 years you would think you've pretty much experienced every type of feeling and emotion. but like holding your firstborn for the first time, or speaking forth your vows to the man of your dreams, i somehow know i'm about to have some 'firsts.'</div>
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it is my hope and desire to take a good chunk of time updating you all on our journey. selfishly, i want to have it all on record so i won't forget one single moment. on the other hand, its the very least i could do... the outpouring of support we've received up until this point is one of the most humbling things i've ever known. such a big part of our heart in adoption was the amazing community we have that will help raise this boy. our 'village' is strong when we are weak. and i know there will be many moments of sheer bewilderment confusion, grief and pain. to know we have the people we have around us is the only thing that doesn't make me lie awake at night. this will be the hardest thing i've done in my life... and i'm here to tell you, i absolutely CANNOT wait. </div>
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i've never been so ready to bring my baby home. </div>
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Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-25409833076314397792012-06-18T13:46:00.000-07:002012-06-18T13:46:39.434-07:00let me come homeat least once a week i run the same 5 or 6 miles out in the park. sometimes its rainy, sometimes its sunny, and well most of the time its foggy. but i kid you not, every single time i'm out there, i literally have to stop and marvel at how incredibly beautiful it is.... and how wildly thankful i am to call this place home.<br />
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i know, i know. here she goes again.., rambling on and on about how amazing los osos is. doesn't she know they don't even have a sewer? or that its foggy for at least 3 months out of the year? <br />
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i am painfully aware of all of my baby's faults. but like the loving mother i am, i love this place unconditionally. <br />
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recently b and i took a trip down to san diego. i've always liked it down there, with the warm water, great shopping, good food, and of course sea world. it really has so much to offer. b's parents have this timeshare that allows them to go to all these different resorts. last year was san jose del cabo, mexico. this year was san diego. they were both wonderful and we are so thankful they have made taking us on vacation with them once a year a priority. its really a great tradition.... not just because we could never afford these trips on our own, but because its so nice to be with family.<br />
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since i've always been one who doesn't like to miss out on anything, being in san diego was harder for me than i thought it would be. i'm the type of person who can't say no to any party, girls night, concert, beach day... anything really. if its sunny out, i feel anxious if i'm not at the beach. if everyone's going camping and my kids get sick, something in me dies inside. not really, but you get the point.<br />
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needless to say this type of restlessness can really affect my family. like one of the millions of other ways my kids are <i>nothing</i> like me, they don't possess this dis-contentedness that can plague me. so when trying to vacation in a place where there is the excitement of the zoo and sea world and legoland, but also the romance of the beach and lounge chairs by the pool, i'm just torn in two. this translates into massive agenda days... the one where every minute is accounted for, just so we don't miss a thing. <br />
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it had been awhile since i had been that agenda driven. i think i felt like my kids were finally old enough to be victims of my insanity. which leads me to ask... have you met my 2 year old? she has the attention span of a goldfish. she could give a rip about baby gorillas and giant roaring lions. show her dolphins frolicking through the air and she'll laugh in their face and then start foraging through my purse in an attempt to seek and destroy all of my lipstick. next up are my other two. though they really enjoy places like the zoo and sea world, the fact that they can't walk more than 30 ft without severe leg pain and whining really inhibits us all. throw in what felt like the whole state of california in each of these parks and you've got your basic 3 kid meltdown with a mom who won't slow down and a dad who is desperately trying to keep the peace. <br />
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growing up in slo i probably went to los osos 4 times. i was a typical teenager and spent my free time roaming downtown, eating free kona's sandwiches, and sneaking into the movies. i'm not complaining, i thought that was really living. so when the time finally came for b and i to buy a home and he purposed leaving our charming 1 bdrm house on garden st to a 1500+ in los osos, i practically had a panic attack. what would i possibly do in los osos? even if i had money to spend, there is literally no where to spend it. <i>and even if i had a bra to wear, there's really no where to wear it.</i><br />
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yet i wasn't about to pass up being a home owner and so we made the big move. those first few months i realized it was the best thing we could have done. that first week i remember walking the 2 blocks down to the bay and looking at all the boats and knowing one day one of them would be ours. i remember for valentines day b and i discovered a little known culniary delight known as noi's and spent many a dates with a bottle of wine and massaman curry parked at the top of the hill in watching the sunset. i remember our first year with lily, and b waking up every morning to walk down to the bay with her and the dog. i remember discovering the jungle at the end of our street and spending hours exploring with it's tapestry of vines and mystery that blows doors on any video game. i remember blackberry picking in the winter, long summer nights at sandspit watching my husband surf, and the romance of traipsing around hazards. i remember discovering the endless, endless trails of MDO state park and being amazed when i heard there was yet another one i hadn't conquered. i remember taking feverish kids down to spooners to skip rocks in the creek cuz there was no where else to take them. i remember taking dinner down to the back bay and having a glass of wine while the kids played on the rope swings. i remember getting our little boat and motoring over to the dunes and watching my kids get naked and splash to their hearts content. <br />
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so on our fourth day in san diego when b suggested we go explore the tidepools in la jolla instead of braving sea world again, i knew i had been broken. this was confirmed when i saw the sheer joy and excitement of my 2 year old finally able to break free and run along the beach. looking over at my son literally laying in the sand drawing with his fingers and my six year old sitting on the rocks sketching some sea snails she collected, i realized i was home. <br />
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though we grumble about the politics out here, and whine whine whine about the fog... <i><b>i've always known in my heart that raising kids out here was just plain good for their soul.</b></i> to see my kids that day in san diego happier than they'd been all week was just that confirmation. we finally are reaping the benefits of raising kids who love the outdoors. kids who love the peacefulness and solidarity of nature. i know it can't last forever and we'll likely loose them for at least a few years. i know one day they will choose video games and downtown slo with their friends rather than a walk with their mom and dad on the beach. <i>but their first love will always be with them.</i> and for that, los osos, i am eternally indebted.Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-31356208690756836542012-04-10T13:28:00.000-07:002012-04-10T13:28:50.367-07:00learning curvei've always been a sucker for new years resolutions. i know lots of people think they are futile, but for me the idea of corporate change and accountability somehow motivates me. this year was no different. <br />
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i typically try to focus on one or two things. sometimes they are small, like not eating sweets during the day <strike>and gorging all night long.</strike> other times i get more serious, more deep. this year my main resolution has been to be a better parent. <br />
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it wasn't long ago that b and i were mostly the same. granted he's always been insanely smarter than myself-- evidenced by the fact that i still don't <strike>care</strike> know what a mechanical engineer is. but when we first met, we were fumbling our way through college... we had similar enough goals and ideas about life and really had had a lot of the same life experiences. for instance, back then we <i>both</i> thought that planning a trip to the UK over spring break was not only a great idea, but that we should fund the said trip by filing our taxes online (which then led to being banned from online filing for the next two years due to some discrepancy about paperwork. tomatos, tomatoes. all i knew was that we each miraculously had $300 and some change in our account after hitting 'file.' and really who would have thought this whole concept of 'e-filing' would really take off?) needless to say, this idea to whimsically file online and not follow up was my idea, but the point is was that b conceded to it. something i know he would never do now. <br />
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fast forward 12 years and b has not only become a partner at his firm, but he also has acronyms at the end of his name and listens to podcasts from harvard business school! fast forward 12 years for me, and i haven't worked one day in my degree and my idea of intellectual stimulation is the amazing writers of 30 rock. the point i'm trying to drive in is that brandon is really, <i>really</i> good at his job. can you see where this is going?<br />
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its hard for me to even get in the space of 'my job' as being a stay at home mom. i don't typically like the conversations i hear about it, and if i'm honest i always preface my title with a <i>just</i> in front of it. i've heard all the racket about how stay at home mom's have 'the most important jobs' and 'we are raising the next generation' and 'what a privilege and honor it is to stay at home.' i will concede that all of these are very true. especially the bit about it being a privilege to stay home. i don't say it nearly enough, but seriously not a day goes by where i don't thank god for being able to do what i do with, and for my family. i find it frustrating that society is so two-faced about it. on one hand it seems as though my job is very prestigious and esteemed, yet every day i feel like i'm barely making a difference... barely affecting my kids the way i should be... barely able to do the mundane tasks i'm called to. i'm frustrated that i always put that 'just' in front of my title. <br />
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so instead of settling for mediocrity in it all... i decided this year my new years resolution was to be really, <i>really</i> good at my job. god has called me to be a mother and a wife. first. first before my email, first before the spin class i'm dying to take, first before talking on the phone with my friends, and first before my bad ass (second) career as the greatest realtor around. <br />
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thankfully my first step was to do something i do pretty ding dang good... read. i started digging in to some of the great parenting books. however, i started to realize that while they all seem great while i was reading them, before the dust even settled on the pages i'd already forgotten all the magic they held. i don't know why it took me so long to realize that i really needed jesus to be a better parent. how quickly i forget. before i became a christian i tried and failed miserably to change. i tried to quit partying so much, fail. i tried to not be so insecure, fail. i tried to not be gossipy and jealous, fail. it wasn't like my coming to faith made me perfect by any means, but by the power of the holy spirit i really began to see change in my behaviors and thinking. i can't tell you how freeing it was.<br />
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perhaps my biggest motivator and also biggest failure was realizing that my ideas about success in my job were contingent on the behavior of my children. i was starting to see things that i really didn't like in the way they were turning out. parenting was getting harder instead of easier. i felt like i was doing my best but wasn't getting the results i wanted. unlike my husband, his success led to pay raises, a better car, daily pats on the back. my success's were measured in potty training, sleeping through the night and good manners but my failures were like a slap in the face with every temper tantrum, bad attitude, and bratty behavior. in my quest for knowledge b and i took a parenting class through our church. there was soooo much good stuff in it, but the one thing that really struck me more than any of it was one simple, obvious statement.<br />
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<i>you are raising imperfect children to become imperfect adults.</i><br />
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duh, right? i couldn't believe i had never realized this. i can't tell you how embarrassing and humbling it was to realize that i might have been trying to raise perfect people. i mean, i know they aren't perfect but i think i honestly thought they might be if i just tried a little harder or did something a little different. i wasn't able to understand that kids do kid things. they blow it all the time.. just like me. that little bitty undeniable sentence set me free in a way that no book has come close to. for the first time in a long time i felt a freedom that allowed me to do my very best but not let the outcome affect my efforts.<br />
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<i>so you need jesus to be a better parent? </i>i need jesus for everything. but yes, i am realizing i have to be more prayerful. i have to be around people that are seeking the same outcome i am. i have to seek out moms that take their calling as a mom and a wife as their highest priority. i need to talk it out and be held accountable. and really, more than anything, i need the time each day to heal my own heart and search out my own shortcomings by humbly coming before the god i love and asking for forgiveness and assistance. for the first time in my life i really feel like i'm understanding dependence on him in a way i haven't yet known. and instead of feeling frantic, i feel free. free to finally be the mom and wife that will be glorifying to my god and have that be enough. cuz nothing is more worth that sacrifice than these faces:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisVWmBQWKspDru7xdlerKGra_Y-68or1ij_Y_PaPr2bkN1tGP-4g9V6XtWGH08nNnFJ5R3tFCRWnWcXFJkWFeEDr5uzwzvIzJGqqj2QMaeZu2NR1y_hm6MU0_WtQliph4IPfZIJlB98R8D/s1600/Photo1+(4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisVWmBQWKspDru7xdlerKGra_Y-68or1ij_Y_PaPr2bkN1tGP-4g9V6XtWGH08nNnFJ5R3tFCRWnWcXFJkWFeEDr5uzwzvIzJGqqj2QMaeZu2NR1y_hm6MU0_WtQliph4IPfZIJlB98R8D/s320/Photo1+(4.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-8399288206611193902012-03-28T13:18:00.000-07:002012-03-28T13:18:46.352-07:00v is for many things.so this valentines day i really wanted to do it up right. being married 10 years this october kinda makes us pretty big time. either that or i realized we have found ourselves in a new place. not newlyweds where every day is v-day (wink wink), and not new baby days where all both of you care about is <strike>the baby</strike> getting some sleep, and lastly, 10 years of marriage, means 10 years of not being divorced. 10 years means we've definitely had our ups and downs and we don't have the excuse of being burdened by small kids anymore, yet at the same time we don't have the fire that comes with being newly married. it could almost feel like an okay opportunity for some apathetic contentment (cuz thats a real condition i just made up-- mostly cuz its quite possible it's what i've been living for for quite some time now). if i'm completely honest, the lack of intensity in our marriage comes from being comfortable in a lot of ways. b has a great job, i get to stay home, all of our financial needs are met and even some of our wants. all of us are healthy, and though the kids make us crazy, they are healthy and thriving. we really have so much to be thankful for and therein lies the rub. thankful can often times mean complacent. <br />
so when the night before valentines day came around and i was chatting with lealah and coco about our plans, i found myself super excited for what coco had planned. it was just a simple dinner for the most part, except hearing her describe her dress, her smokin hot wig, her sweet card and her 'stage' name (moana shiftwell), i realized i needed to up my game. <br />
so what better way to up your game then going to a place you haven't been in years.... the small space you've reserved in the last drawer in the way back corner of your dresser... you know where i'm talking about ladies... your lingerie spot. as i fumbled my way there i was reminded of what a road less traveled it was. of course we were totally running late and i had like 3 minutes which is 2 minutes more that usual to get ready, so i had this crazy idea (and no i hadn't even been drinking yet) to wear some lingerie under my dinner clothes. for some reason i had this vision of it peeking out and 'whet'-ing the appetite... well, peeking out it did. i tried to find my raciest number circa 2002 (yes, something i got for my bridal shower) and after wasting 2.5 of my 3 minutes trying to fasten all 50 hooks, i realized it was eventually supposed to attach to something... like some sexy underwear or something (which it probably came with 10 years ago, but is long since gone). there is probably a name for this type of lingerie, but clearly i'm out of the game. so i kind of gather the hanging straps and tuck them in my jeans... thus creating a bulging on many levels. the first level was apparant when i finally exhaled. see, appparantly my rib cage (not whats on the outside of my ribs unfortunately) has grown several inches since i was 23. so where the lingeire stopped, my stomach bulged out. i seriously looked 4 months pregnant. that combined with the sheerly ridiculous amount of lace made me look like i had a bunch of gum wrappers wadded up in my tank top on top of my second trimester belly. needless to say, i kept my jacket on the entire evening. <br />
dinner itself was pleasent enough. we enjoyed halibut, soup, salad and bottle of wild horse merlot. we talked about how much we loved each other and how we couldn't wait to rip each others clothes off. haha, you didn't really believe that did you? have you already forgotten we have been married 10 years...<br />
we talked about the kids for longer than we should have... we talked about how some of our friends were doing. i bored him with the details of the latest 'best book ever' i was reading, and he tried his best to engage me on what was happening at work. it was a lot like a typical evening except we didn't have 3 little hyena's competing for out attention.<br />
as the night went on, i kept trying to think of ways to convey my sexy underparts. i kinda felt like a mormon with my holy garments, except mine were way sexier and i can have sex whenever i want. yet when we finally paid our bill and made our way out to the car, i was to tired and full to show anything off. needless to say by the time we walked in the door we weren't exactly ripping each others clothes off. so... now was my moment, right? as we went upstairs, b went into the bathroom and i began to unveil my sexiness... and let me tell you, what a night it was! it ended with the best most amazing fireworks a girl could ask for: <i>we fell asleep cuddling, but not before my husband told me how incredibly happy and thankful he was to have me has his wife.</i><br />
i know what you're thinking, so hot right?! because in the mind of a woman, cuddling and words of affirmation trumps any wild night anyday.. 10 years or not!<br />
all this to say, it will be hard to top next year... but instead of waiting one year to go back to the recesses of my dresser, i'm going to try really hard to nip this apathetic contentment in the booty, and actually put lingerie on at <i>least once </i>before next v-day. baby steps ladies. lets do it for our dudes, lord knows they deserve more.Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-27643968613301586422012-02-22T13:27:00.000-08:002012-02-22T13:27:18.534-08:00i just called to say i love you....i'm really not even sure where to begin. <br />
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when i went to type in holdmama, my computer could barely remember the website-- either that or att was being ridiculously slow as always-- but whatever the case, its been that long. <br />
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so you are probably wondering, and hoping for something uh-mazing right now. well keep on hopin, obama style. i got all kinds of riff raff floating around this head of mine, yet its been so long i don't even know where to begin. <br />
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i think i'll start with some excuses as to why my last post was on nov 16. for starters it was the holidays. and besides being super pumped for jesus birthday, i like to take a good solid month to attend as many holiday parties as possible and eat and drink as much crap as i like. its kinda how i celebrate. but in all honesty, i really really love that time of year and this year i apparently couldn't be bothered to actually take the time to write something. <br />
what else... oh well the whole 3 kids thing. yeah, that's actually proving to be much more difficult than ever. the realization that i don't have 3 babies anymore is really starting to hit me. there are like 3 little obnoxious bodies constantly chirping away in my ear and fighting to climb all over me, and mostly just busy making doing anything but wiping butts, noses, and being a short order cook impossible. did i mention they are as adorable as heaven itself and i wouldn't trade them for a million billion pesos?! regardless, they are becoming increasing real with their endless wants and needs. i've even been thinking real adult responsible thoughts like, 'how are we going to send 3, 4 kids to college?' 'how much did you say braces would be?' and 'lord have mercy on me i will one day have 2 teenage daughters.' real stressful stuff people.<br />
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which leads me to my next update. this is a favorite of mine and all of yours too as i have been questioned a lot about it lately. so with that said, 'what exactly is going on with your adoption?'<br />
well, not much. however, not much in a good way. we will have been waiting 1 year come march 23rd. last time i spoke with our agency (at 6 months waiting) they informed me that things are still moving along - as in the country is still open-- but there have been so many new laws and changes being enforced-- all good stuff for the kids themselves, but means it takes longer for us. however its totally worth it, because it ensures the safety of the kids, which is of utmost importance in my book. at this point we are praying and hoping for a referral (ie a picture/file on a child matching our criteria which is *healthy* boy under the age of 2) come summer. at that point we will decide- who am i kidding-- there is nothing to decide, we will leap for joy and begin to prepare to be a family of 6. it will then be anywhere from 4-8 months before we actually bring him home (we have to travel to ethiopia twice). i plan to call our agency sometime in march to double check this timeline, cuz if there is one thing i've learned in this process, its that every situation is different. there is no 'typical' experience. in the meantime, the kids will continue to talk about and pray for him and count the minutes til he graces our lives. thankfully for me and b the 3 we have now leave us little time to ache for him. its more of a budding excitement at this point. i reckon once we have his picture, we will be absolutely ruined until he's actually in our arms.<br />
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so you love christmas, you are busy with your 3 kids, you don't have a fourth yet, and.... it sounds like you are a bit lazy? nailed it. i have been a reading machine lately. every spare minute i have which totals like 13 in one day, my head is buried in my kindle. i have read some amazing books these last few months. literature will never cease to amaze and completely humble me. why are there so many amazing writers out there? it truly never gets old. to help you get on track, here is a few must reads:<br />
<br />
peace like a river by leif enger<br />
the history of love by nicole krauss<br />
rules of civility by amor towles<br />
lit by mary karr<br />
extremely loud and incredibly close by jonathan safran foer<br />
the tiger's wife by tea obreht<br />
state of wonder by ann patchett<br />
<br />
just to name a few. there have been many more, but those are my top picks as of late. <br />
<br />
when i'm not reading, or scheming ways to get away from my kids, i have been so incredibly fortunate to be spending lots of time with my dear friends. one of which i recently wrote a blog about. many of you know her personally, but many others i know don't know her and have been praying for her. so i wanted to take a minute to update you on her so you can keep on praying!!! coco is doing amazing for all intensive purposes. she humbles me daily with her faith and love for jesus. she literally cannot get enough of him. i have learned more from her 14 month walk with god then i have in years. she spurs me on in the way that iron sharpens iron. she makes me want to pray harder, hope fuller and love deeper. she shines so bright considering her circumstances... which are still not what we want. praise be to god that since the gamma knife radiation she got in seattle last summer, she has not had any new activity in her brain. this is maj huge as she would say. its a huge answer to sooooo many prayers and we give god all the glory for healing her. however that stupid cancer has crept into her lungs and is being extremely stubborn. she is currently undergoing chemotherapy once every 3 weeks with more grace than you could imagine. she has lost almost all of her hair and suffers intermittently from many other side effects of the chemo. but as i mentioned you would never know it when you see her big blue eyes smiling at almost everything around her, or the way she just radiates her love for her perfect baby girl. when i find myself mad at god and wondering about the injustice of it all, i'm brought back down when i see the way that god shines through her. she's a fighter and she's got the god of the universe in her corner, and really what more can you ask for. she is teaching us all what it means to love and cherish your life in a way i've never known and for that i'm eternally indebted.<br />
<br />
well, that's about all i've got for now. i promise i'm going to try and be better at this. i really want to tell you all about my valentines day cuz it was another relevatory evening of just how old i am.<br />
<br />
oh and one more thing, if you could leave a comment on the blog itself instead of facebook it would mean so much to me... not every time - i know that's a lot to ask, but even just this once -- i need my ego stroked if i'm gonna keep this up.Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-50289471835381181542011-11-16T08:03:00.000-08:002011-11-16T08:03:38.170-08:00and then you woke up and you were old.its been sneaking up on me for awhile now. <br />
<br />
for starters, i still own several pairs of flare jeans, and its downright embarrassing wearing anything abercrombie.<br />
<br />
<i>you know. </i><br />
<br />
its when you look in the mirror and all you can see are wrinkles staring back at you. i swear it wasn't even 5 years ago that it never even occurred to me i would have to think about having wrinkles. now, i tear out those botox ads with a fervor (not really, it was more for effect).<br />
<br />
no matter how you slice it or dice it, i'm getting old people.<br />
<br />
and there's nothing like <strike>living in SLO among beautiful college girls</strike> a night on the town to remind you just how old you are.<br />
<br />
when lealah decided to have her birthday at sebastians or mission grill or native or whatever its called, i thought, okay-- downtown slo, time to step up my game. as in i might have to tear my lounge wear off and slap on the ol bra to make my appearance. so i brought out my A game, a 'high and tight' black and white number i got in vegas last february. as i was checkin myself out in the mirror before i left, i'll admit i was feelin pretty good. college smollege. i'll show those fine young thangs a thing or two what this ol coug can bring.<br />
<br />
the night started off mellow. after all, we were possibly the only people actually downtown in a bar before 10 pm. we had a nice, mellow dinner and then made our way to the frog and peach. now let me just remind you all that in my day i was no stranger to the downtown scene. let's just say I'm pretty sure Jay Z was thinking of me when he wrote, 'i'm gonna run this town tonight.' heck, back in the day, they knew my name at reggae night and 80's night at mothers... let's just say, the circle formed around <strike>my friend emily</strike> me if you know what i mean. anyhoo, apparently times had changed cuz when we got to the frog and peach i realized a few things had changed... one of which <i><b>wasn't</b></i> that disgusting musty beer sweat mold smell that permeates from the bar, but what had changed was that i looked around and realized i was quite possibly the oldest person there... besides the friends i was with-- they are waaaaay older than me. suddenly i started to feel really self conscious... it took everything in me not to ask the young college girl in the bathroom how old she thought i was... mostly cuz i probably would have started crying and then she'd laugh with her friends about how that old washed out mom was trying to get in touch with her younger days. and although i overcame that, it didn't stop me and lealah from cornering a young bob dylan hipster sort of lad with a fake accent into telling us how old he thought we were. when he said, 'i guess 30,' we were naturally very offended, cuz you know that was a conservative guess, i mean he probably thought we were 40! how horrible is that?! anyway, to spite his disinterest in us old bags, lealah mentioned to him that she used to be in a band (true) and that i had an incredible voice (false). i then felt inclined to take it one step further and confess i made it to the 16th round of american idol' (false). who wants to be my best friend now, regardless of my age??? you guessed it... little gyspsy hispster does. he literally could not get enough of my stardom. i played it super cool, told him it was a few years back, and i couldn't tell him much about it cuz of confidentiality agreements. lealah graciously told him i literally had the voice of aretha franklin in a skinny white girls body (so false). it was all fine and dandy til lealah left to talk to someone else and i was stuck with this tween all up in my grill. suddenly i couldn't go on with the lies when it was just me and him, so i abruptly left telling him my baby was crying or something...<br />
<br />
after our rendezvous at the peach, we thought 'hey we're not getting any younger, why don't we go dancing?!' cuz nothing says you are to old to be in a bar as breakin out the robot to songs you've never heard in your life. however, it was at this juncture, that the night finally threw us a bone. you see, we weren't old anymore.... cuz we saw this:<br />
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<br />
<br />
that's right, they are def 'in their 40's' dancing even worse than us and wearing light denim flare jeans with copious amounts of jeweled stitching (always a dead give away). if the night had a redeemer it came in that sweet couple. it was shortly after this revelation, i realized my work here was done. i suddenly had an overwhelming urge to be in sweats on my couch eating ice cream with my husband. if we hurried we could catch most of SNL... and get enough rest to enjoy the best part of every day... waking up to the 3 most beautiful babies in the world. i guess it was then i realized getting old isn't so bad. as much as i long for a wrinkle free face and a non grey haired head, i think the trade off is worth it if it means the dude taking me home that night makes really cute babies... which he does... very well i might add. <br />
<br />
so downtown slo, i know it was just another night to you, but to me it was a huge awakening. although i don't still got <i>it</i>, thanks for showing me i actually have ALL i need right here in sweet little los osos.Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-61283220658223180142011-10-27T06:27:00.000-07:002011-10-27T06:27:00.242-07:00if i could turn back timeits funny how all of your kids are born your 'baby' and somehow each one of them retain that name regardless of their age or birth order. all 3 of my kids are my <i>baby</i>... yet if i get right down to it, i actually do have a real baby. many of you know her as the cutest baby in the world, and it pains me to say that that baby is turning 2. <br />
<br />
she's actually trying to not be a baby anymore.<br />
<br />
and that is probably the saddest thing in the whole world. <br />
<br />
every morning when she comes into our bed i get anywhere from 30 seconds to up to 7.5 minutes next to her. its a time where i'm transported back to those first few weeks with her. a time where i literally could not get enough of the smell of her hair, the touch of her skin against mine and her big blues staring back at me. a time where she was small enough that it wasn't to far fetched to lay her on my tummy and pretend she was back inside me. there's nothing in this world that makes you feel as alive as having life within you.<br />
<br />
some mornings she babbles non stop, other mornings she doesn't say a word. in both instances i pray a quick prayer that if god could just put her back in my tummy or freeze time just this one day that i would never ask for anything else again. <br />
<br />
i remember when i was so scared to have a second child. <a href="http://holdmama.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-first-loves.html"> i was so scared that i wouldn't be able to love him as much as my first.</a> i couldn't comprehend that god would double my love, not cut it in half. surely bringing a third into the mix would really compromise the love, but instead i think he didn't just multiply it by 3, i think it got multiplied by 33. my mind can barely grasp what will happen when number 4 fly's in. <br />
<br />
so how can i sum up this final baby girl of ours? i'll start by saying, her face will bring a smile to the hardest heart. currently she is standing on top of a 6 ft ladder. in so many ways, she's everything lily and ozzy are not. she's outgoing, wants to be held by everyone, loves attention and praise and is actually really loud. she can't sit still for more than 11 seconds, and literally has never even watched more than 8 minutes of television or a movie at one time. i can't believe i ever even questioned having a third child. she loves mornings alone with ozzy full of trampolines and slides, and adores afternoons full of babies and tea parties with lily. she's the closest i've ever had to perfection. i miss her when she naps, and giddily anticipate her arrival into our bed every morning.<br />
<br />
i <i>literally</i> cannot get enough of her. <br />
<br />
so if a picture is worth a thousand words.... here's 3 trillion for ya.<br />
<br />
<br />
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happy birthday baby girl. you will always be my first and last.Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-76970207435816126522011-09-13T13:26:00.000-07:002011-10-18T11:03:52.854-07:00for the love of coco<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">*** update*** <b>thank you all so very much for praying</b>. if you're wondering if God has answered them, i would have to shout a resounding yes! two weeks ago, coco had her first 'clean' head scan in over 18 months... its seriously crazy. her words to describe the results were to beautiful not to post-- 'i arrived to the appointment wearing a long, bright red dress. i figured it couldn't hurt to look hopeful. i waited in my oncologist's office sitting on danny (her husband's) lap. i sat anxiously awaiting, it had been a long time since he'd been able to give good news, so in some ways i was braced for the worst. i heard him approaching and i turned to greet him as he paused in the doorway. he looked up and said, 'well, i've got some good news.' i literally fell to the floor weeping, red dress and all. it was the best day i've had in a long time!' so as you can imagine these last few weeks have been filled with incredible gratitude, humility and just downright thankfulness to the God who can and will heal! coco is continuing her chemo, so please, please continue to pray for her. she has these scans every few weeks, and though we won a battle, we have not won the war. so please, again, i implore you keep on praying! IT'S WORKING!!!</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
i have a friend who has cancer. <br />
<br />
i never knew i hated cancer so much. but now i can tell you that <i>with all my heart</i> i hate it. i hate what it is, where it came from, what it does to people who love those affected, and even more what it does to the people themselves. i hate that they have to live in fear. from scan to scan, from waiting room to waiting room, from specialist to specialist. little do all these doctors and nurses know, that these cancer patients are hanging on every. single. word. how its delivered, inflections in the voice, lack of or too much eye contact. all of it they have to bundle up in a little package and leave.... only to unwrap and examine and analyze it until the next appointment.<br />
<br />
my first recollection of her was a smiling face with a mess of curly blond hair. she exuded a confidence and warmth that few people are blessed to be born with. i knew her as danny's new girlfriend. i knew she worked at slo brew, was a massage therapist and a whole barrel of laughs. years went by and i would run into very sporadically. at sushi, walking downtown, and then finally one day at our OB's office. if i'd ever talked to her before i couldn't remember, but that sunny june day she told me she was due any day with their first. a girl. i was 4 months off from delivering my third, also a girl. we congratulated each other and wished each other luck. it wasn't until a few months later after i had settled into life with 3 that my friend erin called to tell me that there was something wrong with danny's wife's eye. 'like what?' i asked innocently. 'like it might be cancer. she has to have surgery.' heavy i thought. i'll pray for her. and i did, but only a few times. <br />
<br />
never in a million years would i have thought a year and a half later she would be one of my very closest friends. a girl i break bread with every monday night as we dig into god's word. a girl i have fasted and prayed for with a fervor only god could give me. a girl that inspires and humbles me in her insatiable hunger for all things jesus. a girl who loves her own baby girl in a way that makes me shudder when i think of the ungratefulness i sometimes have with my own babies. a girl that every day has to swim in a seemingly endless ocean of anxiety called <i>what if. </i>she's 34 years old. her daughter is 2.<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
after the thing with eye was straightened out we all felt relieved. life went on for all of us until the next scan. when they found tumors near her brain, everyone sobered up. she emailed me out of the blue saying she knew i had a bible study and would we pray for her, and maybe could she come sometime. i emailed her back and told her we already were praying and will continue too and yes, please come. i didn't hear anything for another couple months. the surgery had gone well, and radiation was to begin. when it came back for the second time, lealah told me we needed to go to her. we needed to lay hands on her and pray. <br />
<br />
two weeks later, on new years day, we gathered in her home for a session of prayer i like i have never experienced. we prayed and cried and repented and anointed one another for 3 hours straight. this was undoubtedly the stuff acts was made of. this was surely what god has intended for us to do more than once in a lifetime. we prayed with all our hearts and i was sure god would heal her. he didn't. not yet anyway. she died to herself that day and truly became alive in christ. i rejoiced with her a few months later at her baptism. when you see someone who needs jesus like we need air, you start to see the world a little differently.<br />
<br />
the last few months have been a roller coaster of highs and lows. more lows than highs and its getting harder. i feel satan wanting to crush my less than mustard seed. i feel him infringing on my faith to move mountains and tumors. i feel him suffocating me and suffocating her by depriving of us hope. my friend has cancer. but cancer doesn't have her. <br />
<br />
so it's when we sit in the waiting room as she gets strapped to a table and waits as her tumors are ionized, and i'm barely able to keep from smashing the tv as hoda and kathie lee sample the latest sangria recipe that i know i'll just have to grit my teeth. i'll smile and i'll take her hand and walk into the sunshine, because today that's all we really have. and for now, that's going to have to be enough.<br />
<br />
whoever you are, wherever you are, please pray. not just now, but every single day. <b> please pray that god would heal coco. once and for all.</b> and so when i post again about her healing you will know that you were part of that. that god heard <i>your</i> prayers and petitions. please, i beg you. i know this can work. for the love of coco, i implore you. pray.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9Q4qxw7slMLAdPU_UKWJxWfFrBrkk2_JiKFge3N7J7m1nCapQNuXwSVOwqeTJ8W1QSR-q998hHyZkwqXNd2gKs00VSkGb8NZptAtkjB9I1N57AilsiO-Xbto9VHcVv_cGzlkF0f_aNH1/s1600/Coco.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9Q4qxw7slMLAdPU_UKWJxWfFrBrkk2_JiKFge3N7J7m1nCapQNuXwSVOwqeTJ8W1QSR-q998hHyZkwqXNd2gKs00VSkGb8NZptAtkjB9I1N57AilsiO-Xbto9VHcVv_cGzlkF0f_aNH1/s320/Coco.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-61549788238016668992011-08-25T14:11:00.000-07:002011-08-25T14:11:07.793-07:00let 'the help' help you.unless you have been hiding under a rock for the last year, chances are you've either read or seen the movie, <i>the help</i> by kathryn stockett. i, like all my white mommy friends have read the book and really enjoyed it. i've yet to see the movie, but there's no doubt i will cry at the beauty and injustice of it all. this book is so much the rage that at least once a week i'll see someone post on fb, 'looking for a great book, any suggestions?' and nine times out of ten, the first comment is 'the help, i loved it!'<br />
the more i'd see these fb posts and hear everyone talk about how great the book was, something in me started to rumble. maybe its just my inclination toward anti-social behavior, or maybe i started to really examine why everyone loved this book so damn much. i remembered enjoying reading it, i thought it was really well written, but best book ever?-- not by a long shot. with that being said, i want to emphasize my hesitation to 'criticize' the book itself. as a wannabe novelist, i can appreciate how extremely difficult it would be to put a book of that level together. it was entertaining, heart wrenching and just plain well-written. a page turner in a john grisham meets secret life of bees sort of way-- simple enough to follow, yet rich and complex in that it was about a subject matter i knew very little about. <br />
<br />
as i began to wade through what was troubling me about everyone's enthusiasm about the book, i realized a few things. first off, i realized that it was a veiled way for us white women to take a stand against racism. hindsight is 20/20 and since all of us should know that treating african americans the way we did was totally and completely wrong, this is our opportunity to make it known that we would have been different. perhaps we would have been the 'skeeter' of the group. <i>we would have known better</i>. which is totally crap, and anyone who thinks differently is lying to themselves. or better put, in the words of my wise husband, 'i think it is odd and largely irrelevant for us to create a sense of empowerment for ourselves as it were with regard to how <i>we</i> would have been different…the ‘would have/should have/could have’ thought process, and discussion for that matter means absolutely nothing…unless we are simply seeking to delude ourselves. what matters is now—if our sentiments about that time can impact us now, then that is progress…if all we want to do is feign superiority over a time and people portrayed in a book we are more lost than found.' <br />
boom.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>what it comes down to is that the help is a simplistic way for us to look at racism in the past tense. it allows us to become infuriated with what once was, when the reality is, the once was is really the 'still is,' more often than not. <a href="http://www.mochamomma.com/2011/08/13/this-is-not-really-about-cake/#">a super duper smart blogger</a> put it this way by comparing the help to a controversial cake she saw where there were two unicorns--the white unicorn was all pretty with rainbows fighting a black unicorn with flames all over it, 'You know why everyone is up in arms about a unicorn cake? Because it’s safe and it doesn’t mean anything. Because you can feign indignation about something as trivial as sugar and fondant. Because you get to create a distraction with a big old mess of a cake that has some “racially problematic imagery” and that right there is where your concern for and discussion of race end. Keep talking about cake in the vacuum of mostly white communities. You’ve proven the old proverb wrong. Eat your cake, people. Down it to the last crumb. Tomorrow, you can have it again. Trust me. It will still be there. The racism, that is. We can talk about race in a real way or we can talk about cake. I’m choosing the former.'</div><div><br />
</div><div>let me reiterate, i am no expert on race. in fact my experience is so incredibly limited. i am white (except when i try and be latino and everyone laughs at me), my husband is super white (if such a thing exists) and i have blond children which really seals the deal. i grew up in SLO which is like 95% white and have lived in only a handful of places, all of which boast similar statistics. the only thing i really have is the 5 formative years i spent with <a href="http://holdmama.blogspot.com/2008/10/craving-culture.html">jon carter </a>as my mom and i's housemate. it was then that i realized how alive racism still was, yes even in sweet little SLO. it wasn't easy for me to write this blog, i knew it would likely <strike>piss off</strike> frustrate a lot of people. but b reminded me when he said, 'you should totally blog about it. people read your blog, we are going to have an ethiopian son. racial issues will be part of our life forever.' so with that said, i want to emphasize that i'm not faulting anyone for liking the book, i'm just trying to help myself and hopefully some of you recognize that there is a bigger issue at stake. racism is still a huge problem and i want to be held accountable for what i am doing to aid in it, not just sit around and talk about in the past tense in the 'vacuum of <i>my </i>white community.'</div><div><br />
</div><div>thoughts?</div>Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-32336892958130752382011-08-17T15:10:00.000-07:002011-08-17T15:10:31.331-07:00if only i had done cheer, then maybe i wouldn't be such an a-hole about itwhen *alyssa* first approached me about the possibility of lily trying out for the central coast elite cheer team, she might as well have told me she had baby unicorns for sale in the back of her truck. <i>i was honestly that shocked</i>. i tried to hide my smirk and feign interest as she went on and on about what a great program it was and how she has had her eye on lily for awhile and how much fun she would have and blah blah blah. i nodded politely as i inwardly wondered where she got her hot pink nike frees (don't be surprised if you see me in a pair in the near future) and whether or not she was naturally blond. i left with a thick packet of papers, made some jokes to my friends about it, and pretty much forgot all about it. <br />
<br />
it's not that i hate cheerleading, its just that i hate cheerleading. okay, so maybe i don't hate it as much as i just don't understand it. which is typically defined as ignorance. and in this case, ignorance, truly was, bliss. my limited experience with cheer was the four we had in high school, who as my shooting guard described, 'made it really difficult to hear coach telling us what play to run in the huddle.' now don't get me wrong, i'll take any fans i can get, and the cheerleaders themselves were just fine, in fact i'm close friends with a couple of super hot, former high school cheerleader sisters today. its just <i>never</i> what i would have imagined for my own daughter. <br />
which, really is very stupid if i think about it. cuz if i really thought about it, knowing what i know about lily, the real question is how could she not do cheer? yet with my pride still raging, i tossed the cheer packet aside and resolved not to discuss it any further. i was content with lily's progress in gymnastics, she seemed to really be making some strides lately, why mess with a good thing? well, you mess with a good thing when you hear your 6 year old telling friend and foe alike that she's starting cheer. and then a week later, you're hanging poolside and hear your phone ring and recognize the number but can't place it and take a chance on answering it. lo and behold, alyssa's sweet alpha phi voice melodiously asks if we've given any more thought to cheer. maybe it was the margarita talking (yes it was noon on tuesday, don't judge me. i was at the elks) but i decided to be honest with her. i told her how i just wasn't sure, cuz i played sports (wrong thing to say) and i just wasn't sure about the time and money commitment. after she ripped me a new one about how much <i>cheer was a sport</i> and guilt tripped me into just letting lily try it, i dutifully conceded. <br />
<br />
as i pondered how i was going to break the news to brandon, i realized a few things about how vainglorious i was being. i realized if it had been ANY OTHER sport, i would have dropped everything to make it happen. i would have sold stock to pay for it, spent my weekends traveling with <i>the team</i>, figured out ways to get lily to and from practice-- whatever it would take, cuz sports are really that important to me. the more i thought about it, the more i realized what a hypocrite i was being. how can i really encourage my child to be an individual and think for herself and instill confidence in her making her own decisions, when i'm the one dictating what she can and can't like, or worse what is or isn't 'cool.' that's crappy parenting, and i blow it enough to know that i can't blow it on something so glaringly obvious. the right thing to do was to give lily a chance at cheer and support her whole heartedly in it. <br />
<br />
so when tuesday finally rolled around and i broke the news that today was the day to try cheer, she looked right at me and told me she just wanted to stick with gymnastics. shocked as i was, my heart lept with joy as i thought, god must be on my side! i was faithful in giving it a chance and he shut the door. i was ready to let it die, but my conscience pricked me. i had to talk this thing thru with her. and wouldn't ya know, before i knew it, i was practically begging her just to try it. begging might be an overstatement, but you get it. my change of heart was surprising to even me. next thing you know, lily dials in the perfect cheer outfit, kisses me goodbye and heads out with the team. i watched her off and on long enough to know that she was really enjoying herself. and like the good coach she is, alyssa came to chat with me a bit before practice ended. she was sweet, and gracious and told me that its been hard to get people to understand what cheer really is. and for those of you like me making flash judgments -- it really is a combination between gymnastics and dance. they learn choreographed routines and incorporate tumbling and dance. when done right, its actually pretty bad ass. as for my concern/lily's absolute delight in the amount of make up they have to wear, alyssa easily explained to me that 'its so the judges can see their faces.' <i>what?</i> just when i was starting to like her. does that even make sense? anyhow, i digress. the talk went well, and just when i was starting to maybe get on board, we got to the ol price point. i basically came away realizing that i need to be a venture capitalist to afford cheer. yet as i sat there watching her smiling and well, learning cheer, i realized even if its only for today, it was worth it. the clock hits 5:30 and she comes bounding over to me and says, 'mom, i loved it. i really, really loved it.' finally, i did something right. <br />
<br />
<i>*names have been changed to protect the innocent, and not so innocent*</i><br />
<br />
Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8250039620441605273.post-27982322891703606042011-07-27T22:31:00.000-07:002011-07-27T22:31:27.520-07:002011 Tahoe Rim Trail 50 mile<div style="text-align: center;">This:</div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sandiegocondoloft.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/Rock-n-Roll-Marathon.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://www.sandiegocondoloft.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/Rock-n-Roll-Marathon.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
...is why I prefer to do this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvmhG-miTpkhirRcrgR5IY6AHMXRtb9NkXoCMSIbhv3fG89Qlae7UoTWIFTGleCr8k-weGn5nUQpP_eReZfiSLBjYVmDNSFqKCd_rKXw-A6900_wU26lvQGNldh_i8iIgvosEYwb4A7-Is/s1600/88092-02-181+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvmhG-miTpkhirRcrgR5IY6AHMXRtb9NkXoCMSIbhv3fG89Qlae7UoTWIFTGleCr8k-weGn5nUQpP_eReZfiSLBjYVmDNSFqKCd_rKXw-A6900_wU26lvQGNldh_i8iIgvosEYwb4A7-Is/s320/88092-02-181+-+Copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;">I peeled off my jacket at 5:55 and handed it to Heeva's dad. <a href="http://www.sanluisobispo.com/2010/08/27/1266341/marathon-of-marathons-slonative.html">Heeva</a>, <a href="http://slodirtrunning.blogspot.com/">Jim</a>, and I stood near the front of the lineup which was loosely gathered around what was assumed to be a starting line.<br />
<br />
7000 ft. Lake on the right. Blaring spotlights, and generator on the left, buzzing crowd at our back...no gun, no siren. We caught the countdown as it rounded '4' and the RD shouted 'go' over the PA system which was competing with the generator. As is typical, a small pack explodes out the gate and starts churning 7's down the flat fire road leading up the north side of the lake. Some people around me bite--Heeva and I resist the urge, I more so than he. It isn't but a minute until the last glimpses of his platinum locks are out of sight.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/26651511?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" width="400"></iframe></div><a href="http://vimeo.com/26651511">2011 Tahoe Rim Trail Endurance Run 50K & 50 Mile start</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user6377919">George Ruiz</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Going from a cold start to the time when I feel warm typically takes 30 minutes, but the fact that the start is a mile on flat certainly helps. We hit the single-track trail up to Marlette lake; 4 miles, +2100 ft. I tuck in behind a guy keeping a mellow but honest pace and we run comfortably in line. I notice he is running with a small evian water bottle and adidas basketball shorts, simple. People burn a lot of energy trying to get by on the left only to make the pass and then slow down--"odd" passes through my mind. Evian and I pass them a couple miles later and I never see them again. We crest the basin that encircles Marlette lake (7823 ft) and a small group of us find a good downhill gear and crank off some good miles down to the fire road that runs north on the east side of the lake. I put off that first gel until my conscience gets the better of me...at 60 minutes I give in, my mental timer resets to 45 minutes for number two. The trail follows a small creek that feeds Marlette on the north side and hits an honest little climb that puts us up on the south end of the sub-alpine meadow that Hobart Aid resides in. It's a beautiful place to be in the morning.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://tahoemtnmilers.org/trter/images/2010TRT_Map_Web_Small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://tahoemtnmilers.org/trter/images/2010TRT_Map_Web_Small.jpg" width="87" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Small Course Map. Large map can be found <a href="http://tahoemtnmilers.org/trter/images/2010TRT_Map_Web.jpg">here</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;">Pulling into Hobart aid (mile 6) I'm feeling pretty good--that aside from the fact that "California Girls" is playing entirely too loud on some misplaced stereo. The station is set up tits. Jeeps, tents, trucks, stereo's....it's a way-point now, later its impact will change, especially for the 100 milers. Apparently Hobart likes a theme; this year it's Pirates--pirates. I am excited for the year when it's Hooters, mostly cuz I like their wings.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
I water and get back on it. My stomach starts to rebel a little, which strikes me as odd because I (almost categorically) never have stomach problems...unless it's 105 and I'm in Pozo with <a href="http://www.runningwarehouse.com/">Dube</a>-n-<a href="http://fertilemindsmedia.com/">Dusty</a>...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Right out of Hobart we round an east facing slope and are given a quarter mile on snow, it's novel. The short climb up this snow field puts me up in a cloud and the temp drops significantly--it's a good thing I have a pelt. I stay warm enough. The next section of trail is stellar; we pass Marlette Peak, we traverse north along trail and crest what I am <a href="http://jacobrydman.blogspot.com/2011/07/tahoe-rim-trail-100.html">told</a> is Harlan Peak before hitting a bitchin' downhill to Twin Lakes (~mile 11). I put it in gear on the downhill and let gravity take over, it feels good to stretch it out a little...maybe a bit reckless this early on but I have a lot of quads to trash so I figured why not.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the way to Tunnel from Hobart, Marlette lake in the background.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The quick pace on the downhill really stirs up my insides and pulling into Tunnel Creek Aid (~11.5m) I am needing to take care of some business. Somehow they managed to get a porta-john up here and I am thankful. It isn't exactly a NASCAR pit-stop but whatever. Just as I step out of the john and grab my bottles off the ground, <a href="http://www.kraftwerkdesign.com/">Thomas</a> (current TRT 50 mile course record holder) pulls into Tunnel after coming up from the Redhouse loop on the front end of his blazing 100 mile trip. "Time to pick it up buddy" he tells me. He looks strong, like he is enjoying this...I laugh, "tell me about it" I respond and make way down the sandy road on my way into the Redhouse loop. My spirits lift a little as my insides finally start to feel better. Another steep downhill awaits, it's relatively technical and I have fun toying with the occasionally muddy footing. The descent into Redhouse is about 1.5miles, we drop about 1600ft to a low point on the course (6800 ft).<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://tahoemtnmilers.org/trter/50m-100mProfile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="24" src="http://tahoemtnmilers.org/trter/50m-100mProfile.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Course profile. Redhouse marked by the A after Tunnel. 100 milers do this 2x.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>For some reason the Redhouse loop is on some level inspiration for the "A taste of Hell" portion of the TRT race motto. I don't really get it, but then again it's cool down in the valley--lots of water flowing, our feet get wet. I hear that some years it feels akin to Hanoi; maybe that's where the rumors come from. My shoes get river gravel in them along with a little sand. I am moving pretty well through the bottom of the loop and pass quite a few 100 milers who are being judicious with their pacing. I get stoked to see so many crusty old guys--"these guys are living" I remark internally. F-bingo. We start the climb out of Redhouse back up to Tunnel and break into the first sustained hike of the run. This part looked different coming down. I have a good hike and come back into Tunnel (~17.5m) feeling good. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The actual "Red House"...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Next up, Bull Wheel. 3 rolling but generally uphill miles with a fair amount of snow. My switch flips and I go back to feeling mediocre. It's disheartening. The trip to Bull Wheel is more arduous than it should be. This portion of the Rim Trail though is as picturesque as one might imagine--views of Lake Tahoe abound west, Washoe valley in all of its high desert splendor to the east. Turn your head, pick your view; it's stunning. In spite of my roiling insides and lack of sentimentality I think to myself, "I love this". </div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I pull into Bull Wheel (~21m) after getting handily passed and dropped by couple of ladies who are moving well...served. I throw down a couple of cups of coke, burnt on gels already. I am determined. Except not 100 meters out of Bull Wheel that familiar feeling comes again and I hike off trail to answer the call...I'm glad that I brought some baby wipes with me. Again I start to feel better and move well over the next 4 miles of rolling trail until we hit the intersection of the Incline Peak trail and bear left...I pickup momentum and start to feel really good. I cruise this downhill noting that I am pretty close to my desired split to get into Diamond Peak Lodge at mile 30. I was shooting for 5:30hrs, given my intestinal setbacks I am happy to note I will probably arrive nearer 5:45hrs. This section of trail is made for a bike; serpentine bermed turns, jumps, perfectly groomed. Parts of it are playful on foot and I ride up the berms but skip the jumps. After a few miles I start to notice the gravel in my shoes and my wet socks but I am intent on hitting my split to Diamond Peak so I ignore it; my family is waiting.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj38_bBvfBgAuj53usryktshv8YvH5kjQIHCPaz9p5QD_0Wu3T83xXX034krJR0-cypoNVo1ZsMPZkka4C5F_FCVLkipEPfx7ivCeeSJ5lIDlvZu2Z10JoO7ZVf1Sji2PABc81Kxu3umvdB/s1600/DSC_0109rsz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj38_bBvfBgAuj53usryktshv8YvH5kjQIHCPaz9p5QD_0Wu3T83xXX034krJR0-cypoNVo1ZsMPZkka4C5F_FCVLkipEPfx7ivCeeSJ5lIDlvZu2Z10JoO7ZVf1Sji2PABc81Kxu3umvdB/s320/DSC_0109rsz.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><br />
Incline Peak trail dumps us off on the road just above Diamond Peak Lodge. We stopped here yesterday on our way to packet pickup just to have a look--there were some people getting set to hike up the trail for a beaver dam tour. We pass close to Incline Creek as it flows out to the lake I take note of what I guess are beaver dams; I think it's the first time I have ever seen a beaver dam. I pass a couple of families out enjoying the midday warmth and get excited to see my kids. Just down the road from the trail head the orange arrows on the road point us toward the Lodge. I round a row of cars and see Holly and the kids bouncing with excitement, I want to bounce too and as I approach them I hold back tears. I don't really know why I had the urge to cry but it came and went after I passed some salty kisses around. My mom is snapping pictures and I hand my dad a water bottle and ask him to dump a redbull in it. Holly brought a gear bag I had packed the night before and I sit down to clean my socks out, "Why don't you just change your shoes <i>and</i> socks" she says...right, my brain is working slightly sub par at this moment. Heaven comes in the form of dry feet as I pull on my Peak II's, the laces creak as I pull them tight--must be that Montana de Oro dust. My mom puts more sunscreen on my shoulders--it's nice being able to ask something to get done and just let it happen. Holly hands me a turkey/avocado wrap and I scarf it down, the fat tastes right, washing it down with redbull seems like a good choice. I jam my pockets with 6 more gels. We walk over to the aid station, refill water, say our goodbyes and I step off the deck at the Lodge and begin <i>the climb</i>.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Head down, feeling recharged. The longest 2 miles on the planet coming up.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I had heard stories about the climb from Diamond Peak Lodge back up to Bull Wheel. ~1800ft, 1.9 miles. It's hard to fathom just how steep it is. Maybe a mile of it is runnable. The rest is laughable. I fall into a hike and I see <a href="http://powersourcechiro.com/dr-dubrul/meet-dr-scott-dubrul-slo-chiropractic-treatment">Scott</a>'s wife come trotting back down the trail. She hiked with him for a bit and indicated he was not too far ahead, Scott is doing the 100 mile--she thinks he's going too fast. Scott's reputation as a hammer when it comes to the ultra-hike is not understated. I put it in gear to try and catch him so we can run together for a bit. No dice. 1.9 miles, 49 minutes. I didn't figure this into my pacing plan.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the climb up from Diamond Peak Lodge....I shamelessly poached this picture off of <a href="http://ultra-lucky.blogspot.com/2011/07/tahoe-rim-trail-100-mile-endurance-run.html">this guys</a> blog, but since I somehow happened to be in it I figured it was cool...don't get mad <a href="http://www.coachgreg.org/">Greg</a>...somehow I think it might be cool.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I get to the top where the end of the chairlift waits mockingly and attempt to shake my legs out. My quads are hammered from the run down to the lodge, my hamstrings are firing from <i>the climb</i>. I hobble to get going and barely dance down the 200meter decent to Bull Wheel (~32m). "That worked me" I tell the guys drinking beers casually in the wind...they ask if I want to sit down for a minute, "no....no thanks". I grab a couple orange slices looking for sugar. Slowly I start to move and things loosen up a bit...a little faster and it isn't long until my body feels like it's working again. <i>The climb </i>took its toll though. Next time I am buying a lift ticket.<br />
<br />
A couple of 100 milers I passed on the climb up to Bull Wheel pass me as I am trying to recompose just outside the aid-station (see that pic above--that's them behind me). I let them go and try to work the kinks out. Ok, time to go. I head off down the trail and run into them again, I am happy to have some heels to hang on to. We run together back to Tunnel at a nice pace. It's nice to listen to their conversation. The lady in front is talking about how she did <a href="http://hardrock100.com/">Hardrock</a> a couple weeks back. My balls all of the sudden feel smaller than usual.<br />
<br />
We cruise into Tunnel (~34.5m) and they are taking their time. I water, throw down a couple cups of coke and head out. I know what's coming. That nice descent from Hobart to Tunnel earlier on is replayed in reverse. I mix a lot of hiking in with a moderate pace on the flats and downs. Coming over the trail back to Hobart is a lot of snow. I catch <a href="http://www.coachgreg.org/">a guy</a> doing the 100 who's positive attitude is contagious, he's in no hurry--he's hooting and hollering, taking pictures of everything in sight; on hindsight who could blame him (turns out he's the guy I poached that pic from above). We get to the back of snow drift that has a 10ft drop down to the trail, the steps that are cut into the face of drift look dangerous. The Hooter plops down on his ass and slides down, of course I am compelled to do the same. We smile and laugh together. It's a nice respite from thinking about salt, water, gel, time...after regaining our feet he keeps his hike up, I pick my feet up and try to capitalize on some good vibes.<br />
<br />
I move into Hobart (~40m) knowing that the high point on the course is coming. We bear south-east out of Hobart and spend the next 3 miles going from 7800ft to 9200ft. There's a couple of decent snow drifts along the way once we climb above the tree line. The route starts up the east side of Snow Valley Peak and before summitting circles around to the west face, we traverse a couple miles south along the west side of the ridge. Lake Tahoe dominates the view to the west. The wind makes this portion of the run uncomfortable. The south side of the traverse leads to a quarter mile downhill section of trail that leads to Snow Valley aid. Only Boy Scouts would man this aid station and be having fun. It's windy, cold, and less than half way over. I fill one water bottle, throw down some mountain dew, and follow a giant swedish guy out of the tents back into the wind.<br />
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Mile 43. 7 to go. All downhill. Ikea sort of flits down the trail ahead of me, oddly he runs with his arms down by his sides--there's a lot of large rocks and I am sort of worried for him but he seems comfortable so I retreat back to my own issues.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the start of the descent down to the finish....7 miles down. Lake Tahoe facing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>My quads are talking to me but I ignore them because at least I can get a good rhythm and it doesn't mean I am redlining. Ikea lets me pass and for the next 45 minutes I battle the voice inside asking to walk. Below the tree line things warm quickly and I eventually pass a guy who is obviously not feeling well, I notice he has a 50k number on...he's been out for a long time. I encourage him and tell him he's almost there--maybe 3 more miles. I should have given him a gel; but that doesn't dawn on me until I am drinking a recovery beer.<br />
<br />
Surprisingly I run into Dusty. He's running back on the course to catch a runner he is supposed to be pacing for the 100. She's apparently not feeling well and is in need of assistance. Dusty runs 15 miles back to get her, then they short cut it back to the car...yet another reason ultra's are awesome. Camaraderie.<br />
<br />
I am determined to push from here on out. For the first time I look at the total elapsed time on my watch. I'm discouraged but not surprised that I am an hour off my goal. The final 1.7 miles around the east shore of Spooner Lake is amazing...and flat. The aspen trees are almost glittering in the late afternoon sun, this might be the best section of trail that I have ever run.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">rounding Spooner Lake, you can just make out the white tent at the finish through the trees at left.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Rounding the lake I occasionally look over at the tents on the shore indicating the finish line and they never seem to get any closer...5 minutes I tell myself. The trail makes a quick step up and we run 100meters on a fire road before dropping to the right down closer the lake on a small section of single track. The finish comes into focus I see my parents standing in the scrub along the side of the trail. There's Holly...there's the finish.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3n9NiBI2JrT4TJvEHWxKglpN9MhEbn0JIGSOGNZTfNbiP5sc0T97MWwOBAoSy6xeTryLNy4Cl1Fzw4tfAaVAS7fvn17E-c05xjZULzW1Lq1Cd_SIhufvrH5ahlVZ2c9mp5H8CIEOAKBSa/s1600/DSC_0181rsz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3n9NiBI2JrT4TJvEHWxKglpN9MhEbn0JIGSOGNZTfNbiP5sc0T97MWwOBAoSy6xeTryLNy4Cl1Fzw4tfAaVAS7fvn17E-c05xjZULzW1Lq1Cd_SIhufvrH5ahlVZ2c9mp5H8CIEOAKBSa/s320/DSC_0181rsz.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my wonderfully patient family...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXJmqpuZCb0RtksUEkUEiDiaNvMj_gmIoHOakL2jSj8SqGwglV4W9pcKBpqAPtbAOWChV8S0491aSiHXuKmVakQa2ULo7dAztWGc4TJ8TT500xiyYkc2Yh5A-3Z5XdyTrhdhAXWgi9zqOM/s1600/DSC_0188rsz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXJmqpuZCb0RtksUEkUEiDiaNvMj_gmIoHOakL2jSj8SqGwglV4W9pcKBpqAPtbAOWChV8S0491aSiHXuKmVakQa2ULo7dAztWGc4TJ8TT500xiyYkc2Yh5A-3Z5XdyTrhdhAXWgi9zqOM/s320/DSC_0188rsz.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">-done.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">There's probably more to say but blogging is approaching tedium on my part...so, thanks for reading my long winded account of one day. In close, it was a very special event in a very special place, surrounded by some very special people. </span></div></td></tr>
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">Brandon</div></div>Hollshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05398176836338370366noreply@blogger.com17