Chocolate and Brown Sugar

Keza is black. All of the other members of this family are not. (for now, anyway.) Somehow this difference was not noticed by either of my white children. I was surprised that through all of the pictures and videos that they viewed they never said anything. Nor did they notice when they met her. This entire week we have been home they have just been lovestruck by 'Baby Sister', as they should be. Wayne and I have decided not to bring the obvious difference to attention but to wait and see when they make the connection themselves and what their reactions might be. Today was that day for Gideon.

I was changing Keza on the couch when Gideon got up from the table where he had just eaten a chocolate flavored yogurt. He sat down beside me and I could tell he had something to say.
"Mommy, Keza is not purple."
"No, Gideon, she is not."
"Keza is not green either, Mommy."
"That's right Gideon. She's not green."
"Mommy, I wonder what color Keza is? Hmm. Let me think about it." Now he taps his finger on his head and assumes the 'thinker' position. "Mommy, Keza looks like my yogurt! She is brown!"
"That's right Gideon! Good job! She is beautiful-brown sugar-chocolate brown!"
"Ok, but mommy, lets not eat her."

Oh, for everything perfectly cute and adorable. I love my kids.

One minute, mommy.

Maddox misses me. I am right beside him, but I’ve been distracted, my days filled with busyness and running around. Just a few minutes ago I tucked him into bed for his nap. When I bent down to give him a hug he wouldn’t let go of my neck. “One minute, mommy. One minute,” he said. So I laid down, our faces inches apart, and watched him fall asleep. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I listened to the only sound, his breathing. How I love him.

I love my children. I love them more than the next breath of air. Thank you, God, for my sweet babies. Thank you for chubby hands and little wrists. Thank you for big, blue eyes and little boy souls. And thank you for Jubilee, who someday soon I will hold in the crook of my arm. I will fight for her. I will cross the mountains and deserts, continents and seas to find her. I will love her, as I love all my children. My gifts from God.

Parking Lots

I have recently been blessed with many new friends that I have never known and may never meet in person. These strangers have become such a sweet part of my life. We have a common bond, or maybe it's better said- an uncommon bond: Rwanda Adoption. We are at all different stages on the process, we live across the United States and even the throughout the world beyond. We have become our own little culture of parents that wait, hope and believe together as we walk through this crazy adoption adventure.

One such friend is named Allie Brannon. Allie and I share a lot of similarities. We are stay-at-home moms, have two boys and are waiting for baby girls. A few days ago I got an unexpected gift from her in the mail. It was such a sweet surprise.

A hammered metal charm to add to the necklace Wayne gave me for Valentines Day. Etched on the face is the name of my someday daughter, Jubilee. It was uncanny how perfect the timing was. I was having quite the internal war, faltering badly in my trust of God about His timing and very mysterious ways. I was reminded, looking at the necklace in my palm, that God loves me, He's concerned, and He knows my baby's name. Sitting in the Post Office parking lot, tears were brimming my eyes as I threaded the pendant on the chain. Gideon echoed my sentiments from the backseat, "Mommy, now your necklace really pretty!" It's beautiful.
I feel so blessed to have people that have never known me love me and be so kind. Allie's gesture made me think about the kind of person I want to be. Tender and thoughtful in my concern for other people. I want to reach people where they are: in stress, in sadness, in good times, in bad, in the post office parking lots of their lives.

Moon Cheese

Yesterday I showed my boys a globe. I held it out in our living room, signaled to them where the sun would be, where the moon was, pointed to Alaska, where we live. I spun it just a little and made a line to Ontario, where Grandma and Grandpa live and yet further and further and just a little more spinning and then, when we reached the complete opposite side of the globe, we were there- Rwanda. Their eyes were wide with discovery.

Much to my dismay, I realized this morning that the lesson must not have completely sunk in because Gideon is now thoroughly convinced that his baby sister lives on the moon. And that the moon is made of cheese. And that he wants Jubilee to bring him moon-cheese when we return on the airplane. The best part is, he is dead serious.

I haven't bothered to correct him. I am just going to get as many laughs out of this one as I can. It does my heart good. Moon Cheese. I love that boy.

In this Together

Wayne is in New Orleans for a business conference. Whenever he is away I try to do some extra-fun things with my boys to pass the time. Since we are having freakishly warm weather this February (40+ degrees and everything is melting) I decided to pack up the boys yesterday and drive to the Anchorage Zoo.

We had a lot of fun and ended the event with lunch at Arbys. When our food came we prayed. After the ‘Amen’ Gideon looked very troubled. I asked what was wrong and he told me that I hadn’t prayed right. I asked him how I should have prayed and this is what he told me: “Mommy, you forgot Jubree!" (Jubilee)
-He bows his head dramatically- ‘Dear Jesus, tank you for the food. Tank you for all the animals. Help baby fishter Jubree be safe and come to me in a big, big airplane.’

Oh, my heart. I love, love, love hearing his little voice praying for her. I love that he remembers her. We are in this together.