Reasons to Adopt Amazing Children

She will be your hairstylist, braiding and brushing and clipping until you're almost in a trance, followed by accessorizing with sparkly butterfly clips.

She will be your stretching exercise coach, rolling out your mat each morning without being asked, and correcting your poses when you get lazy about it.

She will remind you not to multi-task. "Are you playing computer or watching the show?"

She might be willing to feed the dogs.

She knows how to clean dishes, fold laundry and make beds!

If you tell her to clean her room, she will remind you that your room is messier than hers.

She will remind you that both of you are stinkers in need of grace and unconditional love.

She will complain about your busy American schedule, thereby reminding you to slow down.

If you say you're going upstairs to do your work, and she finds you streaming movies instead, she will report this to your spouse. Accountability, folks.

She will remind you to pray and read stories before bedtime.

She will not let you get away with a fashion faux pas.

She will remind you that if YOU lose YOUR patience, everything will fall apart. So stay calm.

She will teach you about her native culture and correct your strange, American habits.

You will notice that her tantrums resemble your tantrums, and that correcting her is kind of hypocritical, so you'll want to pray, "Lord have mercy." And hopefully, both of you will soon have fewer tantrums.

If you're a woman, and you don't cook, she will call you out.

If you're a man, and you're allowing a woman to drive the car, she will call you out.

If your flip-flops come off in the woods and you step on prickly stickers, she will say, "I told you not to take your shoes off. You hurt yourself."

You never want to get too comfortable, folks. 

Seeds of Love

 

This child is amazing.

Now that I've been working from home, we've made a few changes in our daily routines, and life has been so much better for all of us. T is more affectionate, more attached, less anxious, and so are we.

She had her first swimming lesson yesterday. In India, she swam in the river where her biological parents washed clothes. When I first suggested we go swimming, she wrinkled up her nose in disgust and said water is dirty and the fish will bite her feet. She was surprised and delighted the first time she saw a swimming pool with clean, clear water. Her apprehension quickly disappeared when she saw the splash fountains in a local pool. Now, she is confident and gleeful in the water. Maybe overly confident. She doesn't believe in drowning. So swim lessons it is. The best part of watching that lesson was how often she looked to me and my husband for approval each time she tried a new skill with my friend, her teacher.

Her favorite songs lately have come from the Muppet Movie and Vacation Bible School. She sings passionately, "Am I a mupppppeeet...or am I a man?" I'm thinking this will help her deal with any possible future identity crises. Hah. And her favorite song from VBS is the Seeds of Praise song, "Mighty to Save." She walks around
singing the words, "Zephaniah 3:17" over and over.

I'll admit, it wasn't easy to get her in the car for VBS every day this week. She seems to have more social anxiety since she's realized how her English skills compare to those of her peers. Happily, once she arrived at VBS each day, she had a blast, and proudly shows off the crafts she made there. In the car on the way home after one object lesson on building your house on a firm foundation, she pointed out to me that many buildings, including our house, were made of brick and therefore not likely to blow away. Then she got that lesson mixed up with The Three Little Pigs and started explaining that brick (she calls them rock) houses won't be easily blown down by bad wolves.

In the morning, she wants me to help her choose her clothes, and she wants to help choose mine. She complains that I wear the same things over and over again. She loves to play with my hair, putting it up in "levers" to make ponytails and pigtails.

She clung to me in public for the first time today, in the pet store as we waited for the clerk to give us advice on our three aquatic frogs. When I told her I was going to find a clerk to help us, she said, "Why, mom? I can help you!" Oh, I love her. Love her. Love her.

She loves our dogs. She had learned to use the word cuddle, and mostly in relation to cuddling with the dogs. She often speaks of her love for the dogs, though she's not yet comfortable using the "L" word with us yet. Completely understandable. She loves catching fireflies. She loves blowing bubbles. She loves drawing on the sidewalk with chalk.

It's not always easy, of course. The creation of this family over the past four months has been challenging for all three of us, as is normal and expected with adoption and all other feats of parenting.

I just read in another blog today, "The only way to care for the disadvantaged – is to disadvantage yourself –which is guaranteed to turn out for your advantage."

It's true. Love is a choice. This is what we signed up for. And it's exhausting and frustrating and stressful, but more than that, it's beautiful. T has changed our lives for good.

Not Only Skin Deep

Tarana had a fantastic six day beach vacation with my parents last week. She rolled around the water in a big, clear, plastic beach ball, went on a dolphin sightseeing boat, collected seashells, swam in the ocean, made sandcastles, played at a water park, and threw a few tantrums. She also decided she DOES NOT like to eat shrimp. Weirdo :)

When I met my parents to pick her up, she strolled into the restaurant beaming, browner than ever, wearing her shades, and said "rawr," with her dino claws in the air, acting out a "surprise" appearance. I hugged her and she started chattering away about her trip. The first thing she told me was that she saw dolphins at the beach and asked if I remembered when we saw dolphins at the aquarium one day when "I sad, but you and dad happy." Oh yes, I remember.

The second thing she told me, pointing to her cheeks, was, "Mom, look my face. Spots." Yep. She had sun pimples. Or something like that. And she was concerned. My newly adopted, six or seven-year-old Indian child is concerned about her pimples. I love that she turns to me for beauty solutions. She has mentioned her beauty concerns before. She is worried about other blemishes on her skin, too. She is fascinated by my morning and evening beauty routines, and often asks me to put some makeup on HER face, too. When she got home from the beach, I taught her how to wash her face, and now she proudly washes every night!

I have always been self-conscious about the blemishes on my face, too. I have tried so many products to clear up my skin! But nothing really works. And this really didn't matter until now, when I have my daughter's self-esteem to look after as well as my own. So I decided to try something new.

Because our finances have been so tight with our job transitions, and because I would love to have extra funds available to donate to other families' adoptions, I decided to become a consultant for Rodan and Fields, the dermatologists who created Proactive. These doctors have expanded their product line to include treatments for anti-aging, eczema, psoriasis, scars, dark spots, etc! I can't wait to use these products to help Tarana become more confident in her appearance!

For the months of June and July, I am donating fifty percent of my Rodan + Fields commission to friends who are in the beginning stages of their adoption! We have been so blessed by the generosity of God's people helping us in our adoption. Now, we want to be the ones to bless others in their adoption journey!

I'm so excited! And so nervous! I'm not a salesperson AT ALL! And I would never sell something I didn't believe to be useful and high-quality. So I'm trusting God to bless this business. After all, "unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain." (Psalm 127:1). I hope my investment in this business will not be in vain. I hope this will be an avenue of the Lord's provision for our family's financial needs and for the financial needs of other adoptive families. I also hope to find customers and teammates who will experience success with these products and feel more confident and beautiful!

End shameless plug.

In other news, please pray for us, specifically for a peaceful, on-schedule bedtime routine. Transitions are hard. Thank you for praying.

Business Links:
Fundraiser Facebook Page
My Rodan and Fields Business page

Lord, have mercy.

All the adoption training books and advisors say that newly adopted children should not be immediately subjected to the hectic schedules of their new families. That is exactly right. But that's not how it is with us, and so our house is out. of. control.

Ideally, I would be a stay-at-home mom. My husband would come home from work at the same time every night, and I would have supper ready so we could all eat together as a family. Tarana would have a set schedule. She would know what time to expect meals. She would know when we all wake up, who leaves the house when, what time we take a shower, and bedtime would be at the same time each and every night. There would be no meltdowns.

That's not gonna happen any time soon. I have been working irregular hours, and Kyle has been a stay-at-home dad most of the time. We did get her a calendar with photos to show what to expect each day, and that has helped some, but still. Oh. my. goodness. gracious.

This week, Kyle started going to school full time (PRAISE THE LORD FOR THE G.I. BILL), and Tarana started going to summer day camp (PRAISE THE LORD FOR OUR CHURCH). My work hours are still sporadic, and everyone is more exhausted at the end of the day. And the dishes are piled up in the sink. And there are toys strewn everywhere. And sometimes the dogs have to remind us about their meals. Chaos.

Evenings have been hard. Mornings have been hard. Kicking. Screaming. Thrashing. Arguing.
Lord, have mercy. Tarana is trying to show us that she needs a predictable schedule and much more of our attention. The more comfortable she becomes with us, the more she expresses her totally understandable outrage at being thrown into this new life full of uncertainties.

I know. I'm complaining. I'm sorry. And I know that none of these circumstances are surprising to God. He knew all about this before she came home. He knew I would be starting a crazy new job at almost the exact time that we got the call to go to India. This job has been God's provision for our family, and I am thankful. I am. Like it or not, we do need to earn money to buy food and shelter and our American lifestyle. God knows all of that. He's not surprised by any of this, and we are in the palm of His hands. And I trust Him. But it's hard.

Even still, going into this adoption, we knew it would be hard. We are just happy she's not running with knives. Yet. We are thankful for Tarana. She is perfect for us. And everything would be better if only we could have the ideal, predictably scheduled life we have dreamed of. Does anything ever work out exactly the way we plan? No. Because God's plan is always better than ours. There is a reason for every little detail. Every little inconvenience. Every little circumstance.

So what do you do when you've had all the best advice in the world, but you can't follow it because you don't have the time or resources? You pray. And you cry. And you reach out to your friends. Thank GOD for our community of supportive friends.

Happily, Tarana is often willing to discuss her feelings. She is so funny about the work situation. We tell her I have to work for money so we can buy food, so she points out all the cups of coins we have around the house and says we have plenty of money. She says if I don't like work, I should go to school with her and play like everybody else. She is sweet and considerate. And oh, is she ever passionate about EVERYTHING.

And soon, I will be finished with this sporadic job. I will have some summer time with my sweet girl, and then I will start working a more predictable job as a teacher at a new school. I will also be running a new home business with Rodan + Fields. And Kyle is loving school so far, which makes me everso happy. So the future is promising. And everything is going to be perfect. And there will be no more tantrums, ever. Right? A girl can dream.

 

the princess and the bear



Last week, Tarana accidentally left the door open, and our old, fat, yellow, completely necessary and beloved dog, Opus, snuck out of the house in search of adventure.

Tarana says (and demonstrates) that he must have sneakily tip-toed behind the couch as she and Kyle were watching TV. What a stinker, right?!

Kyle ran all around the neighborhood searching for Opus. We were so worried. I was at work, so all I could do was post a frantic facebook status. Minutes later, my cousin did an internet search and found Opus' photo on our city's local list of recently impounded animals. By that time, the pound had already scanned Opus for his microchip and called Kyle. Thank goodness the city made us get that microchip against our will!

Well, Tarana is very fond of Opus. When Kyle told her they would be able to get Opus out of "jail" the next day, she said she wanted him to stay there. She was adamant with both of us that she would not be going to get Opus out of jail. She obviously felt that her loyal friend, a dear loved one, had abandoned her, as she has been abandoned by others before. She was angry!

So I told her a story. Clearly, there must have been a bad bear roaming the neighborhood, threatening our family. The bear must have tried to come in our house, and Opus had to run it off. Opus succeeded in protecting our family, because we never did see that bear, but not without a fight. Unfortunately, a police officer drove by and saw the epic battle between that bad bear and our beloved Opus. And so both animals were arrested and taken to jail. It was just a misunderstanding. Since both animals were fighting, the police thought they were both bad.

Poor Opus, taking the fall for protecting our family.

Tarana was skeptical at first, but now this is the official story of Opus' having to spend a night away from home.

When she and Kyle went to bail Opus out the next day, Opus was thrilled to see them.

Walking out of the pound, Tarana looked at Kyle and said, "Where bear? Oh yeh. In jail." She's a believer, y'all.

After Opus was home, and when I came home from work, Tarana greeted me, enthusiastically waving this photo in her hand. "Look, mom!," she said. "Your princess and your bear!" This is because she knows how often we refer to Opus as our protector bear, and we always tell her that she is our precious, beautiful princess. Later, Tarana wanted to display the photo in the house. She taped it up on the map in my bedroom, right below India. She told Kyle she wanted it "on the wall so mom can see every morning." She knows I love her. And she knows how much time I spend looking at that map!

So my friends, I stand beside one of my favorite quotes, which says, "Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed."

Fairy tales are absolutely necessary. I will, therefore, make up fairy tales to explain anything and everything until the day I die. :)

humbling provision

Kyle and I attended a funeral last weekend. A retired Army Colonel with a quick wit and a heart of gold, a member of our closest family circle, and a friend to Tarana even though she never got to meet him. He had looked forward to meeting her and wanted her to call him "Big Poppy."

During the memorial service, one of John's sons told the story of how, when the Colonel found out how much money we needed to meet our adoption expenses and travel to India, he gladly sent us a check, without being asked.

He also insisted on knowing the names of the Indian judges in charge of her adoption case, just in case his powerful connections around the world might be able to help move things along for us. He was determined to do everything in his power to get her home, and for that we will be forever graeful.

He explained his contribution as "the right thing to do for a little girl."

His wife Sandra was equally supportive of our adoption process. She passed away less than a month before he did. We had planned to introduce Tarana to them last time we were in town, a week after Tarana came home, but John was in the hospital and didn't want Tarana to see him like that.

No one knew that Sandra was sick too until she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer a week after our missed chance to visit them. And now they're both gone. These friends who gave so generously to bring home a little girl they had never met will never meet her this side of heaven.

I hope they knew what a joyful, delightful child she is, and how much our family needed her.

John and Sandra are some of the many people who helped us bring our little girl home. When we started the adoption process, we had no idea where the money would come from. We certainly didn't have it. Not even in savings. There was no way we could have paid the adoption expenses ourselves. But the love, support and funds we needed poured in from the most unexpected people. And the most generous were those who had the least to give.

I can't even begin to list and thank everyone who helped, but you know who you are, and God knows who you are, and your support helped our hearts just as much as our fundraiser account. We know that even the grants we received came from individual donations made to the adoption grant organizations.

And then there were the friends who served us in other ways to meet our needs, by helping us sell our fundraising items, organizing a silent art auction, finding connections in India, providing us with cell phones for use in country, watching our dogs and stocking our pantry while we were in India, showering Tarana with gifts of clothing, books and toys, and helping us through this time of transition with patience and understanding.

We will always remember John and Sandra, and so many others who showed so much generosity toward Tarana and us.

I pray that we will never forget how God used the gifts of His people to bring our daughter home. May this always be a reminder of His never wavering faithfulness toward His people.
Thanks be to God.
 

mud and rain

“Two men look out the same prison bars; one sees mud and the other stars.”  
Sometimes it's hard to see the stars when there's so much mud.

I read somewhere that sometimes, what we really need is a friend who will sit with us in our mud puddles, who will be there for us in our messes, quietly, supportively.

That's why I didn't leave Tarana sitting on the curb alone this afternoon. Her tantrum was over, her grandparents had gone home, her dad hadn't yet returned from his weekend out of town and she was sitting there with her head in her hands, quietly crying, unable to communicate her feelings.

We sat there and stared out into the neighborhood. I told her about the birds singing, the dogs barking, the trees dancing, the sun shining, and the bugs crawling, until finally she heard me, and noticed an ant. It was a nice ant, she said, and it wouldn't bite her. It was crawling on her hand. And then we noticed a slug. And then a bug. And she was back.


I know there have been times when I've been too absorbed in disappointments to notice the beauty around me. I want to say I understand her inner turmoil, but I don't. How can I? I don't even know where she's been. I don't know what has happened to her in her life. I don't know how many people have left her and never returned. I've never been an orphan, never had a new family, never been forced into a new culture. In many ways, she doesn't fully understand us either. She doesn't understand how much we love her.

One of my favorite songs says, "I can't stop the rain from fallin' down on you again. I can't stop the rain, but I will hold you til it goes away."
I can't change Tarana's past or explain the confusion of her present circumstances, but I can sit with her on the curb while she cries and thinks, and I can distract her with stories about slugs and bugs.

Often, when she and Kyle drop me off at work, she covers her face so I can't kiss her goodbye. That's her way of showing me that she doesn't want me to leave. But I want her to know that I will never leave her, that I will always come back home. So I always kiss her anyway, and say "I love you and there's nothing you can do about it." And that's the truth.