Daily Rhythms

For Max's one-month-home I had planned to have taken the time to reflect on his homecoming and on our month together.  But that day came and went and now it's been six weeks without much time to write.  Our days are full and good, though.

When Kate, a friend from Taylor days, asked me to write out the rhythms of a typical day for us, I jumped at the chance.  The perfect assignment to reflect and remember a day in this new season, which is sometimes sweet and sometimes so challenging.

Click around on Kate's blog while you are over there - her family lives in a sweet old schoolhouse and she has two little girls that are just a few months older than my guys.  I enjoy her perspectives on motherhood and have gleaned wisdom from her as she walks a couple steps ahead of me.  She's also opened a sweet new etsy shop!  Max has been telling me how much he wants a monogrammed blankey. :)

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Today I struggle awake to the sounds of my husband getting ready for his day.  I’m thankful that he’s up first and I can stay snuggled in darkness for ten more minutes.  As he gets ready to walk out the door, we discuss a decision that is looming. 5:55 AM isn’t an ideal time for these conversations but Matt is a morning person so he humors me, and in this stage of life we have to grab the moments when we can.  He’s out the door, I shower and then I unload the dishwasher as my coffee brews.

Head over to SweetMamaK for the rest! 

Back to Ethiopia

Well, we have two kids at home now.  Max has been home for just over three weeks.  

It has not been easy.

A new little person, uprooted and placed in a totally new environment - everything looks and sounds different, smells and tastes different, the weather, our habits, and throw in jet lag, a couple illnesses and three prescriptions . . . oh, and teething.  And his rowdy brother. And I work from home. 

BUT . . . we are doing so well.  Mostly because we've been sleeping through the night for about a week!  Thank you, Max, you mighty little guy!  And we are finding our footing and getting into a routine and have been blessed by a sweet community here who have cheered for us and rallied around us and not been put off by all of our emotions.  Thank you to my people. 

And wow, looking at these pictures from a month ago when we took custody really puts it into perspective.  We have come so very far in a short amount of time.  I think anyone who is around us now would see a difference in him from these early pictures but as his mom, wow.  I get caught up in the day to day and this gives me look at the big picture.

We were back in Ethiopia exactly four weeks from our first trip and once again found ourselves visiting our son at the foster home on a Sunday morning.  It wasn't exactly a joyful reunion - he didn't cry, but he was wary. So many of our pictures have him looking away from us.  I'm so thankful he's grown to trust us.  As we walked from the foster home to our hotel to start our life together, I was so sad for him.  He was leaving the his home.  It is hard to reconcile our joy at gaining a son with his great losses.  

He warmed up to us at the hotel room.  Maybe his little mind could remember that we had visited him a month ago?  Our first morning together he stood between us on the bed, pressing his face close to mine and then Matt's, mine and then Matt's, over and over, sweet kisses from this little love. 

The next day we were back at the foster home for our coffee ceremony.  These women, these nannies, I hope they know how indebted we are to them.  How grateful we are. They have the hardest job.  And yet they do their work with great love.  We had sat in on a coffee ceremony on our last visit for families who were taking their children home and our experience was the same - the nannies came in, greeting all the children by name and hugging them all, passing around the babies, taking their time saying goodbye.  They were thrilled for us to start our new families, but with it again - joy and grief.  They truly love these children they serve every day. And their love makes all the difference in the lives and bodies of our babies.   

We had the privilege of sharing this trip with my sister-in-law, Courtney.  She coined the phrase "adoption doula" to describe her role and it was a perfect description.  As a mom of three little boys she is a bit of a boy-raising expert.  In her we had another caregiver, tie-breaker, photographer, friend, and maybe most importantly, an argument-diffuser.  Her presence stopped about 8,000 fights from erupting between Matt and me because, see above - adding a new baby is a stressful little endeavor and I might say it would try the strongest marriage.  Her adoption doula services are available to others at the right price.  I'll write a great recommendation. ;) 

On our last full day in Ethiopia we traveled out to Max's home town.  It was a tough trip.  Six hours there and longer back, three across in the back of an SUV with no air conditioning.  There are no car seats in Ethiopia, which maybe worked in our favor on this trip because Max climbed all over us the entire time and stayed fairly happy (besides the diapers we had to keep pulling over to change).  The trip was overwhelmingly worth it.  Out of respect for his story, I'm keeping details off the internet, but it was such a gift to experience this part of his life and to see the beautiful people of his home.  Ethiopia's people are so beautiful.  Their colors, their hearts, their joy.  Their kindness.  Not one of the women laughed at me and the $200 contraption I had to keep my baby strapped on where they deftly had their babies secured with a piece of fabric - instead they marveled at his eyes and skin and said he was 'beautiful like his parents.'  What a gift they gave us with their blessing and their joy.

At the time it was the trip that would never end . . . but now I am so profoundly grateful for the opportunity to walk that dirt road of my son's first home.  Thank you, Ethiopia, for sharing one of your own with us.

The Day We Met Our Boy

Meeting Day

The day we met our son started with a spectacular sunrise over Egypt, the sun arcing blue and orange over the curve of the earth as we raced through the sky towards Addis Ababa. When our 12 hour flight landed in Ethiopia's capital, I peered through our small window to see hills of green, city buildings in the distance, and men and women harvesting grasses along the runway with machetes, bundling them neatly onto their backs. We found our driver and he confirmed our identity by asking, "Firomsa's parents?" We grinned and nodded ecstatically, the first time we'd heard an Ethiopian say our son's name, which tripped awkwardly off our American tongues.

Our flight had landed late so when we arrived at the guest house, we had only a minute to drop off our bags and give hurried introductions to the other families staying there. Time was ticking on our visiting hours, 10-12 and 3-5. We wanted to be there every second we could. As I was about to leave, the guest house manager stopped me and explained there was a problem. My tired mind raced and tried to decipher the broken English and quell the rising panic.  It sounded like we might not be able to see him today. Mr. Bere struggled to make his point clear. "You know chicken box?" "Chicken in a box?", I repeated blankly, thinking it was way too early for KFC.  Thankfully another mom came to my rescue.  "Chicken POX!", she translated. A minute later we had determined that one of the older children had chicken pox and they were worried the visiting room needed a day to ventilate.  Solution- we could bring our baby back to the guest house, all day long. As far as I know this has never happened for a court visit. We had absolutely nothing for him! But we were ecstatic.

After a short, but harrowing, drive we pulled up to the pink gates of the foster home.  The nannies welcomed us and chattered and someone called for Firomsa while I struggled to hand off my camera. And then there he was, a little bundle, looking just like his pictures, but unsure of me. 

  

I think I was nervous to meet him, I didn't know what he'd think of me, but it's hard to remember the feeling now because now... He's our son! We tried not to overwhelm him and they gave us a bottle and then hurried us back to the car. Five Americans carried their two new Ethiopian babies on their laps, African style.  And then there we were, suddenly with a new baby, all day long. It was sweet. 

That first day we were full of quiet wonder. What does he like? What does he do? We had lots of questions for our almost-11-month-old.  He sat quietly at first and then fell asleep after his bottle. Along with another family we took our new babies to a hotel nearby for lunch, giddy with the freedom of parenting our kids for the first time and exposing them to new things.  We fed him from a spoon for the first time, saw him stand, smile, and grab for our food. Later as we struggled to push through the jet lag, he surprised us by crawling to the foot of the bed and sitting attentively while we FaceTimed with Bo. Our last activity of the day was a family nap, mom and dad overcome with jet lag and Firo snuggled between us for his afternoon nap. We returned him to his nannies at the foster home and thanked God for a perfect first day together. 

After that, we fell into a routine of two visits a day, two hours each visit. Each time we learned something new about our son as he grew more comfortable with us. He is small but mighty! He crawled, pulled step standing, cruised along furniture, clapped his little hands, and chanted DaDa after Matt showed him how. He loves balls and other babies and was most animated when one of his baby friends was out to play. He loved the nannies too, always pausing to acknowledge them with a smile. 

It was a honeymoon week. He was perfect. We never saw him cry and never changed a dirty diaper either. I know those days are coming! We are excited for them, but we treasure that first week together, getting to know our boy. 

Best News Ever!

There have been two life-changing phone calls during this long process.  The phone calls are kind of like seeing a positive on a pregnancy test . . . and kind of not.  For one, this would've been a heck of a long pregnancy.  But of our two phone calls, the first was our referral. March 3, 2014, we were all at home for a snow day and it was a party!  

And then we did a lot of hurry up and wait. And wishing and hoping and praying.  As our waiting for a court date drew closer to the summer court closure for rainy season, it was hard to hope that we would get through before the courts closed, but even harder to imagine we wouldn't.  Then we got another call.  This time Matt was at work and Bo wandered off to play after I tried to explain that "This lady knows information about your brother" and then picked up the phone to hear, "How'd you like to go to Ethiopia?"

Yes, yes, I'd like to go. Next week? Sure. No problem. I'd go right now if you asked me to.

We got the call on Wednesday and we're getting on a plane this Thursday. Just a little hectic around here as we move work obligations around, get ready for my mom to come stay with Bo, and pack for Africa.  Matt's brother is getting married in Washington, DC on August 9th which is so exciting . . . and it just so happens that the most direct route from the US to Addis is through DC.  Which is convenient! We are excited to do it all.

The big day for us is August 5th, our court date.  On that day we will stand before a judge and legally accept responsibility of our son!  We can not WAIT for that day.  And beyond that, we can't wait to bring him home to us . . . but we'll have to wait another 4-6 weeks for that.  It will be so hard to come back with out him, but that is just how the game is played right now.  

We are coming for you little bud!  Can't wait!

so close!

We are in a season of suspense.  I feel as if I am just killing time until something happens, but life is still busy and events stack up that I can't seem to fully focus on.  Now, more than ever, there is an underlying current to every decision that we make and every case I pencil onto the calendar.  Sure, he's free then, but I hope I have to call and cancel this one.  Yes, we'll be here, but if we are I'm going to be really sad about it. We are so close.  SO CLOSE to having our son home.  And we are racing against the clock.  

We started the our adoption in January 2013 with an application to our agency.  After six months of paperwork, our dossier was sent to Ethiopia and we joined the wait list in August at fourth in line for a boy under two years of age, which is a great place to be!  With a larger agency you could start out at number 103.  By October, we were second in line.  And then... the 'drought.'  I had prayed for a referral - a match - by Christmas but that did not happen.  

There were some dark days as we heard rumors of a possible shutdown in Ethiopia.  I wondered if this would ever happen to our family.  We started to discuss other options.  The weight of that seasons was so heavy as I questioned everything I thought I knew.

Then, by God's grace, everything changed.  We had the first and only snow of the season and all three of us were home that Monday in March when my phone lit up.  The name of my program director flashed on the screen and Matt and I ran into another room to answer it away from Bo, who was watching a movie.  I have some exciting news for you . . . little boy . . . five months old . . . And I  cried and couldn't respond so Matt had to get on the phone and she told him the news.  Within the hour we had accepted the referral and suddenly this little big-eyed boy in Ethiopia was linked to me.

We were over the moon about the news of our referral but were asked to keep it off the internet for some time.  Even now I will not post any pictures until he is officially a Yezerski but we are so fortunate to receive a weekly update from his foster home that includes photos.  We've watched him grow through these weekly emails, searched the pictures for clues to his well-being. I fret about his weight and multiply the kilograms to convert them to pounds and mentally plot them on a growth chart. He's happy, smiling, holding toys.  He is ours.  We miss him.

Since March we've been following protocol and we have now achieved preliminary acceptance from the US government.  Our paperwork is speeding across the US right now, waiting to be authenticated and sent on to Addis Ababa.  We are waiting on two crucial last steps: the court dates.  The first date scheduled is the birth parent or finder court date, and then ours, the adoptive parent court date.  I am beyond anxious to hear when that might be.

And we covet your prayers!  We are begging for a court date soon, before August 15.  The Ethiopian court will close for two months during rainy season and we think that will be mid-August through mid-October.  If we don't get our court date before then, our son will turn one in Ethiopia without us.  To come this close but not get through . . . it's just too hard to imagine.  

Our specific prayer is that 1) the first court date would be scheduled soon and pass without incident and 2) that our adoptive parent court date would be scheduled before the cutoff on August 15.

Thank you all for walking through this with us!  

kitchen redo

(Before I begin... for some reason my pictures and words are justified right, left, and all over the place.  I have tried to fix this and it's impossible but because "it doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful," I pressed publish anyway.) 

I have to laugh when I think about the first time we saw this house and immediately put an offer on it. Truthfully, I was terrified!  I liked the yard and the "character" but it seemed like a huge project.  I mean, it WAS a huge project and I am so thankful that we took it on and that my husband is a dreamer because today, I just love it.  It's a great space for us. 

I think the worst spot was the kitchen.  It had some good things - like cabinets up to the ceiling and two stainless appliances - but it was super small and cramped.  When we bought the house we really didn't have a plan for how to make it better but after much brainstorming, it evolved into a much brighter, open space.  

When we bought it, the kitchen was sporting a brown laminate countertop and backsplash and peel-and-stick tile on top of old peel-and-stick on top of several other layers of junk.  

But the worst part was how cramped it was.  Unfortunately I don't have a good picture because it was hard to get the camera in there, but this is basically the kitchen, with a wall along the right side of this picture - and you might notice there is no fridge in sight.  

Below you can see the doorway into the kitchen and the blue wall that lined one side of it.  That little nook is where the fridge was supposed to go - so odd and quirky.  The door to the left opened to the side of the fridge.  Bizarre and not functional.  

So, we knocked it down.  Below is the view of the two doorways, door removed and walls torn down to the studs.  

And from the other side of the kitchen, the view from the dining room of the doorway into the kitchen and the basement steps, which was why that wall was there in the first place.  

Which leads us to the question, what should we do with the basement steps? 

Our "basement" is really more of a cellar and is only below the kitchen, so we really did not have many options on where to put the steps.  Someone - Matt or the contractor or the both of them - had a brilliant idea of installing a trap door.  Thankfully whoever was issuing permits didn't oppose the idea and now that's what we've got! 

For me, picking out new tile and a backsplash for this kitchen was tough.  I liked the white cabinets and I'd seen grey subway tile on an HGTV show that I liked - white subway never really did it for me - so we kind of went off that idea for a while.  After much heartache and stress I had settled on this combination of grey subway tile, butcher block countertops, and this long rectangular tile for the kitchen floor. 

Well. Easier said than done.  The butcher block was from Ikea in Atlanta and transported on top of our friends' minivan to save $300 on shipping.  The subway tile was on a freighter somewhere between China and California with a delivery of mid-August.  Arg.  So many ulcers.  So when my contractor called over the 4th of July and said "I think we found wood floors under the tile in the kitchen," I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.  So. Many. Decisions.  Because if there is wood on the floor should we do wood on the countertop?  Should we stain the floor a different color than the rest of the house?  And the wood ended up being pine which was different than the rest of the house anyway.

Tears.  Stress.  I'm to young for this, I don't know what I like, waah waah waah. #firstworldproblems

So the sweet interior designer I used to help with some other decisions was called back in and she YES to a questions I'd already posed to Matt: Should we paint the floor?  This was controversial because our cottage in Long Island had painted floors that were in dire need of some love and they never looked good.  We decided to go for it anyway.  She also said a three magic words: white subway tile.  And I just said YES because that stuff is pennies per tile compared to that other stuff I had picked out and since it is the most common tile in the world, it was readily available.  

So this is what it looked like when we moved in: 

OH MY.  

Not ideal, but we made it through.  Notice the fridge is in the living room.

And this is what it looks like now: 

Below a before and after - you can see we added can lighting and a microwave.

And as for all that space where the basement stairs used to live: 

Doorways were widened, added, and this beautiful bit of cabinetry created by our contractor.  

The cabinet on the left is hiding a large duct so the shelves are about two cans deep.  On the right I have pull out shelves for our pantry.  Above I have extra serving pieces and vertical cookie sheet storage.

This shot shows our new doorway into the front living room and the trap door on the floor. :)  

And that little doorway + weird door to the fridge are now one big opening.

And this...

This is what my kitchen usually looks like.