finding magnolia

Sister Love

2013-05-24T00:31:00.002-07:00

On the bus last week, a woman asked how far apart in age my children are, and when I told her five years, she shook her head in dismay, then began moaning and muttering about how it was a problem, a big, big problem. Her own two children were twenty years apart, and they still struggle with sibling rivalry. No assurance on my part of the mutual adoration between my girls could calm her; she was clearly frazzled, thinking of all the difficulties we are sure to encounter in the years to come.

I know they will argue sometimes; they already do. But I think that mostly they will love one another, look out for one another, be there for one another. Because they already do that, too.

Keeping My Little Girl Little

2013-05-23T00:43:00.002-07:00

With her last growth spurt, Zinashi exited the baby and toddler size range and is now solidly a size six. Over the weekend, I went through the tub of her old clothes that we had stored at my parents house, and I was astounded at how small they were. I knew that she was little when we first came for her; I remember how compactly she would curl up in my lap. But it is still a shock to hold up the first soft pants we put her in and and understand the difference between then and now. It won't be long before Elvie will be able to wear those pants.

I don't know why that makes me feel like crying, but it does. I suppose it's thinking of her, so small, with her grief still fresh, with her eyes so hopeful anyhow. I think that I will always miss those days with her in Addis. I will always want to go back and live that over again, savor it all. The jammies really did me in - I found my favorite pair, and I remember zipping them up over her little body, after lotion and before we all laid down together so she coud kick me for a little while to make sure I was still there before she went to sleep. How did the time fly by so quickly? How did she get so big?

It has been a challenge to find clothes for her in her new size that I feel are appropriate. Maybe I'm just an old curmudgeon, but I am of the opinion that six years old is still an age that still falls into the category of little, and I want my growing girl to dress like it. I don't want her in a miniature version of a teenager's outfit. I don't want her wearing shoes with heels. Childhood is fleeting, and I don't want to push her out of it before it's time. I don't mind if she plays dress up with things for grown women - little girls have done this since the dawn of time - but I do mind if she thinks that these things are for every day.

So I've been combing eBay for Mini Boden deals and waiting for the best sales on other brands that don't aim to give my six-year-old a woman's silhouette. I've resigned myself to spending more for shoes, because there is a shocking gap between little girl Mary Jane shoes and women's Mary Jane shoes. Why the shoe makers believe that by the smallest bit of growth of her foot, a little girl can suddenly keep her shoes on better without a strap to keep them there is beyond me.

And of course Zinashi sees these things in her size and wonders why I won't let her have them. I simply tell her that while she is a little girl, she should be allowed to stay a little girl, that dressing like she is older will only be uncomfortable and inconvenient and, let's just be real here, less cute. I don't want it all to seem like forbidden fruit, but I do want to protect her childhood. Clothes are just the smallest part of that, but they do matter. And I guess if thinking that and acting on it as a mother makes me an old curmudgeon, then I'll accept and embrace that with open arms.

A Photo a Day While We Are Away: Tuesday

2013-05-21T09:00:00.000-07:00

This is what we're really like. And we're not even sorry about it.

A Photo a Day While We Are Away: Monday

2013-05-20T09:00:00.000-07:00

Elvie thinks you might have a case of the Mondays. It's best to just go back to bed.

A Photo a Day While We Are Away: Sunday

2013-05-19T09:00:00.000-07:00

Sisters, meeting for the first time. Elvie's all, "This is not my favorite!" and

Zinashi is all, "I am the BEST BIG SISTER." So much love.

A Photo a Day While We Are Away: Saturday

2013-05-18T09:00:00.000-07:00

At the airport in San Francisco, chomping at the bit to get on

the plane and get to Elvie.

A Photo a Day While We Are Away: Friday

2013-05-17T09:00:00.000-07:00

Galveston, Texas, Spring 2011

Heading Out

2013-05-16T09:57:00.000-07:00

I am hours away from boarding an airplane with both children for a four hour flight. Mostly I think it will be fine, but every time I think about Zinashi possibly needing to use the airplane bathroom, I start to quietly hyperventilate. I'm hoping she can just hold it. Or that she'll remember how she and Jarod practiced last night and feel fine about going in by herself. Anything other than a crying jag, limbs flailing, scared out of her mind but not wanting to wet her pants. She will be wearing a pull up, and I hope that's enough to ease her mind if she can't bring herself to go in. I know she is six, but we are not taking chances. I can't fit all three of us into an airplane bathroom to help Zinashi pee, let alone help her change clothes. So we're taking precautions. I'm expecting the worst and hoping for the best. It's how I roll.

We are headed to Missouri for Grannie's 90th birthday celebration. You might wonder why I just said Grannie and not "my grannie," for you've never heard of her, but if you live in Grannie's town or the surrounding area, you do know her. And you call her Grannie. Everyone calls her Grannie. It's who she is.

Do you recognize this woman? You should. She's Grannie!

While we are away, I don't want you to get bored and have nothing to look at, so each day at 9am Pacific Daylight Time, a photo will magically appear right here on this blog. They're photos that, to my knowledge at least, we haven't posted here before, or at least it's been quite awhile. I hope you enjoy them.

We will return Tuesday night, and I will be back with things to ~~bore you with~~ tell you on Wednesday. May you have the happiest of weekends, and if it's possible to do so, I hope you enjoy some birthday cake. I know I will.

For the Fun of It

2013-05-15T00:40:00.001-07:00

This pretty much sums up breakfast at our house:

My life: never dull since September 27, 2010.

A Most Worthy Cause

2013-05-14T00:17:00.000-07:00

I've not written a post dedicated to ethics in adoption on this blog. I've mentioned it as part of other posts, and I wrote a very scratch-the-surface post about it on Babble. As part of that post, I wrote that you should be willing to walk away if things aren't right. As more families come forward to talk about ethics in adoption, I have found more and more families who have been willing, who would sacrifice everything they hoped for in order that a child whose family was able and desired to parent could do that. I want to introduce you to one of those families, and then ask you to offer them some help.

I've been reading the Watershed blog for I-don't-even-know-how-long. They are a fellow adoptive family, and their first child, Ariam, is from Ethiopia. After they searched for the truth in Ariam's story, they felt they couldn't pursue another Ethiopian adoption, but they wanted to expand their family. They chose to adopt from Haiti, and they chose an agency they felt would do a good job facilitating their adoption.

What they found as they got deeper into the adoption was that the agency was not to be trusted. When their son was legally theirs, they removed him from agency care and set out to find the truth of his story, to make sure that his adoption was necessary. They were willing to give up everything, all the financial resources they had poured into the adoption, the hours upon hours of paperwork, and most importantly the longing of their hearts to bring this little boy into their family, to make sure that adoption was the right option for him. These are people who are committed to ethics. And now that they are satisfied that their son was not coerced away from his first family, they need your help to bring their son home.

More information about why they are unexpectedly in need of funds is here, but I will sum up. This is not an ordinary adoption fundraiser. This is a situation in which the adoption was fully paid for, and the agency is holding the family's dossier hostage, likely hoping that they will sign a gag order, thus keeping other families from knowing the truth. In order to bring their son home, they will have to assemble their entire dossier again. This does not just take time, but also money. Money they didn't anticipate needing to pay, because they'd paid for it already. But in order to stand firm for the truth, they are willing to do that. So I hope that those of you who are able will stand firm with them for the sake of truth by donating to help bring their son home.

In addition to the basic need of being in a family, AJ is also in need of medical evaluation in the US. Additionally, his current foster family will be leaving Haiti for a sabbatical in July. Time is truly of the essence. Let's work together to get him home to his family as soon as possible. Donations can be made through Project Hopeful, which means that it will be tax deductible for you. I know that you are the generous sort, so I have confidence that you'll come through.

Thanks, everyone.

On Mother's Day, A Letter to Zinashi's Ama in Ethiopia

2013-05-12T21:48:00.001-07:00

Dear A,

They say that Zinashi looks like her father, but I see so much of you in her. Her cheeks, her eyes when they sparkle, the slope of her forehead, tilt of her chin. I say that Zinashi was the girl who made me a mother, but really, it was you who did. It was you who nurtured her for three years before she came to us, carried her on your back, held her at your breast. Precious three years that I would never take from you or from her. I wonder sometimes what she looked like as a baby, when she started to walk, what her baby laugh sounded like. But I think I can guess, and those years belong to you.

I wish that I could have given you more years with her, more time, always more time. I love her and I cherish her, and I can't imagine my life without her in it. The thought of her absence makes my breath catch in my throat, and I stop myself before I start to cry. But you, you are living that reality. So I am here to tell you that these years belong to you, too. I know that I mother her in person, but you are still mothering her, still holding her in your heart, still praying for her and longing to see her again. My gain is your loss, and I feel that acutely.

Today, I honor you. I honor the choices you had to make on behalf of your tiny daughter, the likes of which I have never had to face. I honor your heart as a mother. I honor the bond we share because of the daughter we share. I honor your sacrifices for your family, I honor your hard work, I honor your grief. On this day that we celebrate mothers in our country, I pray that this wish would find you in yours, that your heart would be full of the knowledge that you are never forgotten, that you are as much a part of Zinashi today as the day that she was born into your arms. May you know peace today and each day that you are apart from your little girl.

With all my heart,
M

More of This, Please

2013-05-10T14:22:00.003-07:00

Happy weekend, friends.

Savoring Our Family Memories, One Story at a Time

2013-05-09T08:23:00.000-07:00

This post is sponsored by Disney Story. To find out more about this brand-new story-creation app - and how it puts the power of storytelling in your hands - click here.

One thing that is central to my role as a mother is the keeping of my daughter’s stories. Where they came from. Who loved them before we came along. What they were like when we first met. How we grew together. I have been so grateful to live in the digital age, to be able to take thousands of photos without worrying about having enough film or how much it will cost to get it all developed when I go hog wild. Zinashi loves to look at all the photos that are related to the story of how we came to be a family, and I’m sure that Elvie will be much the same.

Up to this point, I’ve been keeping photos loosely organized on my computer, backing it up to the hard drive. I’ve intended to get prints of the important photos and put them in the little books I’ve been writing for each girl, but I life has been so busy that I haven’t gotten around to it. So when Zinashi wants to hear the story of how we packed our bags and flew to Ethiopia to meet her for the first time, we sit down at the computer and click through hundreds of images. It works, but it’s not very efficient.

Enter Disney’s new app, Story. I have been using it for a little over a week now, and I can already tell that it will be something that will help me tell Zinashi her story. It’s pretty simple, really. Using photos that are on my phone, I can make a little story book that can be viewed on my phone or online. I can add captions and text to the pages, whatever I want to tell the story. I can tell a story that occurs over a long time, like the process of bringing Zinashi into our family, or I can tell the simple story of an adventure we had together.

I’ve shown Zinashi what Story is and how it makes little books you can flip through online. I made this story to chronicle Zinashi and Elvie becoming sisters and friends, and it was a hit. We’ve already set a time to sit down together tomorrow and create another story about our family. I can’t wait. For now, enjoy this story about my favorite set of sisters, who are also wonderful friends.

This post is sponsored by Disney Story. To find out more about this brand-new story-creation app - and how it puts the power of storytelling in your hands - click here.

Download the Disney Story app from iTunes – for FREE – right here!

Disney Story Twitter

Disney Story Facebook

Familiarity

2013-05-08T22:59:00.000-07:00

I'm a little over two weeks into what will be approximately four weeks of resetting my eating habits. So far, so good. I haven't followed the plan to the letter, but that wasn't the point this time. The point was getting used to eating better again, remembering what to make and what I like that is not a slice of Semifreddi's sweet batard bread with cocoa almond spread smeared thick on top. I really like that a lot. It's hard to think of anything else when I'm eating it. But it turns out that I like scrambled eggs for breakfast and a nice salad for lunch and ethically raised meat and vegetables for dinner. I like homemade applesauce and cocoa date bars. And I feel better. My adult acne is nearly gone. And those dresses in my closet that I thought I'd have to part with? They fit again.

The point of this was not weight loss, though I won't lie to you and tell you that I'm not happy about it. But it's not about the number on the tag in my jeans or the roundness of my shape. I could care less about that. What makes this a welcome development is simply familiarity.

For ten years, I was within a certain size range. I knew how to dress the body that I had, and I'd spent considerable time, effort, and even dollars to put things in my closet that I could wear for years to come. For the basics that would need to be replaced from time to time, most of the time I could simply look at a garment and know if it would fit or not. I missed that.

What I didn't miss was always feeling like I should be thinner, more toned, more...something that someone was saying I should be. Gaining weight set me free somehow. Because I looked at my daughters, and I knew that every pound I gained was worth it. It was worth their health and the healing of their hearts to direct my energies to their care instead of chasing a slender form. I would do it all over again, just the same.

And now that things (mostly) fit again, I feel better than I did when I wore those clothes before. Because I know I don't need to bend over backwards to be leaner or stronger or whatever the magazine articles are selling that I no longer care to buy. Because I can put on those clothes and enjoy the familiarity of my own wardrobe without feeling like I need to look any different than the way I already do. That part, I'll admit, is unfamiliar, but I'm sure I can get used to it. It's happening already.

Four Things (One of Which is Elvie's Hair)

2013-05-07T23:56:00.000-07:00

I forgot to ask the other girls' mothers if I could use their daughters' images on the internet. Don't you love heart-shaped faces? I do, but I love that gleeful face on the right the most.

1. We have been walking through some stuff with Zinashi. You know what I mean? Stuff. And it gets frustrating, and it gets heavy, and then suddenly light breaks through the cracks. She never ceases to amaze me. With what she is willing to walk through. With how she is letting her heart open up. With the way she is accepting things, and wanting to heal and move forward and be better.

I recently read (most of, ahem, I'm almost done, really) this book, and it has been somewhat of a game changer for us. I talk with Zinashi about what her brain is doing, and what it needs, and why sometimes her downstairs brain just takes over and yells to drown out the more sensible upstairs brain. She gets it. She understands. It doesn't make things perfect, but it gives us tools we can use. If you have kids, you should get your own copy. If you are parenting kids who have experienced trauma, I recommend it doubly. Get it. Read it. Share the parts with your kids that are meant for them. It helps. Really.

2. I have a new life theme song.

3. As many (most?) of you know, I've been blogging elsewhere for almost a year now. This opportunity was truly providential for our family, as it has closed in some financial gaps that needed closing while still allowing me to be the primary caregiver for Zinashi and Elvie. This has been essential to the well-being of both of them, and we are so grateful that my little job came along when it did. The people I work with and for are really fantastic people, and I couldn't have asked for a better fit for my employment needs.

Recently I've been offered the opportunity to do some sponsored posts, and I've accepted a couple of the offers, so you'll soon be seeing a few* of those here. I know that there are some strong feelings out there about this sort of thing, so I wanted to give you a heads up before it happens. I never want people to feel like I am only here for the money. I mean, I hope it's obvious that I'm not, and that you'll still love me even though you might regard me as 50% Real Blogger, 50% Sellout. (Related: I got a box in the mail related to one of the opportunities, and I squealed a little when I opened it, then sent Jarod a message simply saying, "I love being a sellout!" My idealist college self would be so ashamed. My realistic 37-year-old self is impressed with the perfect packaging.)

4. Elvie's hair. I mean, seriously. SERIOUSLY.

Now it is nearly bedtime, and I am not showered or done with what I need to work on or anything. But I feel like taking the time to share this photo of Elvie's hair makes it all worth it. Don't you think so? Admit it, you do.

*There are a couple of opportunities, but a few posts, as I'm writing more than once about one of them.

She is Always a Surprise

2013-05-04T00:57:00.000-07:00

When we first brought Zinashi to the US, she was terrified of water. She wanted to be as far away from it as possible. No thank you, no swimming, no walking on a sidewalk along a scenic waterway, no, no, no, and if you didn't catch that, NO. She would try to climb us like we were trees if we got too close to water.

When it was time to learn to swim, friends cooled down their hot tub for her, and she wore her little life vest and her flip flops in. She was not taking any chances! After awhile, she agreed to go in their big pool, and she even agreed to remove her flip flops. She started to like swimming, to be comfortable. But when it came to any body of water that was not a swimming pool? No, thank you.

During our big move to San Francisco, my mom came out to take care of Zinashi while we got settled. While we did less exciting things like pick out a new mattress and put together storage furniture, Zinashi and my mom went to the beach. The weather was so beautiful that January, all of us ended up going fairly frequently. Zinashi was content to dig in the sand, but she wouldn't get close to the ocean. I'm pretty sure if she could have, she would have set to digging right next to the Great Highway, still technically on the beach, but as far from the water as possible.

We tried to coax her closer to the water, and she allowed us to choose spots that had better sand for digging, but she was still nervous. She eyed the ocean warily, and soon realized that the tide came in sometimes. That was when she started to panic. Every time we'd go to the beach, she'd ask again and again if the water was coming for her. Sometimes she would get so scared she'd take off running in the opposite direction from the water. We worked long and hard to get her to feel okay about being near the water, okay enough that she wouldn't bolt. Jarod carried her down to the water's edge to show her that it was okay if she didn't go too far out. But she wouldn't get in. Not one toe.

Until today.

Maybe it was because we were with friends, and her friend that is much younger than she is got in. Maybe it was because a tide pool had formed, and the water was more still than usual. Maybe grace dropped down from heaven to give her a taste of courage rewarded. I don't really know. I'm just so proud that she did it, and so happy that this one thing will no longer hold her captive. She can enjoy the beach now, without the constant worry reel playing in her mind, the one in which the water comes to get her. She went to the water, and she was fine. In fact, she played, she filled and emptied her bucket, and she went back to the water alone to rinse her hands after a snack. I just...still don't know what to say. She's amazing.

PS:

Sometimes she's just too much.

On Parenting a Child Who Has Experienced Trauma

2013-05-02T00:04:00.000-07:00

Today I took Zinashi to the dentist to have two cavities filled. They wanted to use laughing gas, and I said okay, knowing how nervous she was. I couldn't imagine her seeing a needle coming at her mouth to numb her and not screeching and running out of the room. But then the mask for the laughing gas scared her more than anything else in the room, and she refused to use it. The dentist made a deal with her, made her pinky swear not to move her head one bit while they did the fillings, and Zinashi agreed. I asked for an animal for her to hug, and they brought a gigantic lion pillow pet. And then my brave, stubborn girl didn't move a muscle the whole time, because she was more afraid of the unknowns of how that mask would make her feel than of a tray full of sharp dental tools.

I came home from the dentist and knew it was time to talk about trauma, about what it means for parenting, but most importantly what it means for my beloved first daughter. I haven't wanted to violate her privacy, to share too much of her struggles, but at the same time I know that there are people walking through the adoption process now, who will be bringing home children who are about the same age Zinashi was at the time she was adopted, and I want to say something. I want to talk about love and commitment and never ever giving up.

After I watched the film Mercy, Mercy, I asked Jarod to watch it, too, and we discussed afterwards that Masho's behaviors at the time of her adoption and then later into her family life did not seem at all unusual. We felt that, given the situation, they were actual pretty normal. And we felt that her adoptive family had failed her, that the psychiatrists had failed her, that every single person who should have looked out for her failed her.

Here is what I wanted Masho's family to do: pick her up. Forget the diagnosis labels and remember her story. Love the stuffing out of her, all the time, every day, no matter what. I wanted them to overlook small infractions, to understand how hard it was for her. I wanted to pull them aside and say, "She has had everything taken from her. Now she needs you to give her everything you can. Even when she acts like she doesn't want it. She needs it. She needs you to step up and be parents for her."

Zinashi recently told us the story of being taken to the orphanage, then of being moved from the orphanage to our agency's transition home. I thought maybe she didn't remember, but she did. She hadn't been ready to tell us yet. She has been with us for two and a half years, and still it is hard for her to open up. I look at her face when she is struggling and I wonder what else she isn't ready to trust us with yet. What other memories does she have that she won't say out loud? I want desperately for her to tell me, just tell me, please, sweetheart, it will feel better to say it. But she said enough already for this traumaversary season, and now she's clammed up. Now the negative behaviors tell the tale of a heart that still can't trust that this is forever, not just being in our family, but being liked and loved by us for good.

So what we do is we hold her when she starts to misbehave. We talk through the issue. We allow for natural consequences and we impose some. It's a lot of trial and error, fits and starts, figuring out what she needs today, which is quite likely different than what she needed yesterday. Some days she needs more nurture, some days more structure. Always she needs us to pick her up when she is having a hard time. Always she needs us to remind her that we love her and are hers forever. Always she needs to be given a chance to start over, to try it again, to practice what she should do the next time. It takes a lot of time and a lot of patience. It is not easy. But this is not her fault, and she deserves the very best we have to give her.

We also practice what I call preventative parenting. I try to anticipate an issue before it might arise, then head it off at the pass. Lately she has been agitated if she wakes alone in the bedroom, so after I get up in the morning, I make my coffee and come right back to bed, then corral Elvie on there with me until Zinashi wakes up, however long that takes. I know that imaginative play is crucial to her healing right now, so when we don't have anywhere to go, we are home, and she is allowed to set up all her little scenes with animals, dollhouses, accessories of all sorts. I understand that she needs to regress in some ways, so I baby her when I can. The tough times still come, but they are lessened, at least somewhat.

In between the hard parts, she is still magic. She is still the girl who made me a mother, and she is a treasure. Right now, because of traumaversary, we are working through a lot of hard days. But I look at her and I see that she is still herself, and I just breathe through it as much as I can. I work harder, knowing that who she truly is will shine through if I just keep at it. Two and a half years into this, I feel like we at least know much more than we did when we got started. We've got more resources, and Zinashi has indeed worked hard and made enormous strides toward healing. We are hopeful that the coming months and years will bring more healing her way. We love her, and because love isn't love without action behind it, we will continue to figure out the best way to help her when she needs it. Because we are her family, forever, and we have hope that someday she will understand that in her heart of hearts and truly believe it.

Notes on Unschooling

2013-04-29T13:20:00.000-07:00

Reading flash cards on a Sunday? Don't mind if we do!

When I imagined myself as a parent, here is what I imagined: I would parent intentionally through the early years, and when my children were old enough for kindergarten, I would happily walk them to school (because in my imagination, of course we lived close enough to the school to walk there) and enjoy the rewards of suffering through early childhood, with its tantrums and constant stream of needs, by having a little time to myself during the school year. I admired those who could successfully homeschool, but I was just not up for it. Not my thing. The end.

But then it turned out that the book that was being written about my life as a parent included a tiny girl who arrived in my arms at the tender age of three, with her heart so broken that I could see the shadows pass across her face when she remembered something that she lost. I think I knew from the moment we decided to become Zinashi's family that everything I thought I'd do as a parent would change. And to a certain extent, it has. I didn't return to working; it was too much for her to understand. We didn't put her in school; five days a week was too many for her to be away from us.

For preschool work, we did what I call light homeschooling, and we participated in a homeschool co-op in the afternoon twice a month. When it came time for kindergarten, I ordered a reading instruction book and math curriculum, and we set out to spend Elvie's morning naptime doing school. It was, at first, a great adventure, but it didn't take long to realize that not only had I been wrong about not homeschooling, but I'd been wrong about how we would homeschool. I took a deep breath, and we both took a break from the constant stress of trying to get through traditional curriculum lessons, and then we became unschoolers.

Unschooling is a lot different than I thought it would be. It's not some free-for-all where my kid calls all the shots. I'm still the mom, and I'm still in charge. My kids need for me to be in charge. Particularly right now, Zinashi needs to know that she has parents who will act like parents. I guide, I direct, I teach. I try something one way and then stop if it's not working. I attend to her emotional needs first and her academic needs second, recognizing that a dysregulated child isn't going to learn much, and it will probably destroy a lot of emotional progress to have us both be frustrated with the work and with each other.

So what unschooling has become for us is simply finding ways to teach Zinashi things she wants and needs to know in ways that work with both her temperament and her learning style. There is no core curriculum, but I am always looking for things that pique her interest so we can learn more about them, and weave basic skills into our learning. This year of kindergarten has been a lot of trial and error. I learned that sticking to a schedule was disastrous for us; I need to assess moods, needs, and the commitments we have in place for the day before deciding what we can work on. If Zinashi is having a hard day emotionally, we attend to that and that alone. On the days we can do schoolwork (which is most days, including weekends - we no longer designate certain days as school days and others as non school days), the amount of book work Zinashi can do varies. She loves worksheets, and some days she can blow through a lot of lessons that way; others, she needs more time to engage in imaginative play or arts and crafts. The undercurrent of it all is that she never stops learning.

And that, really, is what I hope that she learns most of all, that she can learn anytime, anywhere, that she can find something she is interested in and pursue studying it. I want her to learn to persevere when she wants to know how to do something and to accept her mistakes graciously as good lessons for the future. I want her to explore possibilities and find the ones that work for her. I want her to love learning, to see it as a joy instead of a chore.

It is possible that someday Zinashi will go to school. Unschooling is best for her now, so that is what we are doing. If we find something that will work better for all of the learning she needs to do - emotional and social as well as academic - then of course we will do that. This is about doing what's best for her. This is about doing what works. This is about loving her through the hard parts, when the activity we're engaged in is not really what I'd prefer to be doing.

But this is also about the magic of seeing her delight at making a book all by herself and then reading it out loud. It's about knowing that she is being given the time to learn things in the way she needs to learn them. It's about all the things we get to see and do together. Because let's be real: two years was not enough to have this magical girl all to myself. I'm going to go ahead and keep her right by my side for another.

Food and Rest

2013-04-27T23:40:00.000-07:00

I am one week into my third Whole30. Last week I just decided it was time, and I started the next morning. I'm still shocked that we had enough food in the house that was Whole30-friendly to get me through the first few days. But that was part of what got me started. I'd been slipping into terrible eating habits for quite some time, and I knew that it was coming. My skin was itching from the inflammation due to adult acne, and I was feeling heavy around the middle, like part of me was more sluggish than the rest of me. So here I am, working through figuring out how to eat this way again, and I feel better than I have in a long time. But I'm sure that it's not just the dietary changes that are helping. I'm also sleeping more. Midnight is bedtime, no excuses. Many nights I've been in bed by 11:30.

It's a strange time to be doing this, with Zinashi needing so much more of me lately. But maybe it's not. I know I could use the extra rest in order to enhance my patience. I know that I could use the extra nutrients to enhance my immune system. (There aren't many nutrients in Cadbury Mini Eggs.) I know that I could use the shift in shape that comes with dietary changes to enhance my wardrobe. (There are a lot of clothes in my closet that I'd stress eaten my way out of.) So for those reasons, it's an excellent time to do it.

For being one week into massive dietary and sleep changes, and I am doing okay. Better than okay, actually, at least most of the time. My skin is clearing up. I'm not bloated all the time. I don't hear the siren call of chocolate at 10pm anymore. But it's still a tough adjustment. I love food, and I miss the pleasure of some of my favorite snacks. I tell myself at least twice a day that it's only thirty days, and that time passes so quickly that I'll soon be done. And then I hope to settle into a reasonable normal, to mostly eat this way, because I know it's better for me, but to leave some room for cake, too. I'm not sure what that will look like, but you know what?

I've got twenty-three more days to figure that out.

Hanging in There

2013-04-26T00:14:00.003-07:00

It is traumaversary season here, still. I feel like it helps to keep something funny at the forefront of my mind; otherwise I'd implode from the frustration I'm trying to keep from escaping. Thus I am sharing this fantastic photobomb. I need that kind of levity. As part of tramaversary (not to mention two weeks of being completely out of routine in the middle of it), we're seeing a lot of panicked behaviors around here lately, and it's hard to remember sometimes that these behaviors are not there to drive me crazy, but are indicative of the hurt we're trying to help heal. As memories resurface (and boy are they resurfacing!), Zinashi is just trying to protect herself. Just in case. She just needs to check, to make sure we'll stick around no matter what. And in case we don't? She needs backup. So we also have parent shopping sometimes. And I hate that so much, maybe most of all, because I know just what heartbreaking scenario it comes from, and I can't ever go back and change that for her.

In some ways, this year's traumaversary is way better than in years past. She is able to process so much more, and I feel like I simply know her better. But we've also got a baby now and I've got a little job, and that leaves less of me to spread around. I am trying hard to get more rest, trying to figure out what it will take for me to get back to mothering peacefully instead of on edge. My voice is starting to sound completely patronizing when I want it to sound gentle and compassionate, and I've got to knock that off. So here's to the weekend and getting some sort of break. If nothing else, I guess I can just go pick my nose on the train. It appears that it's a normal thing to do, and probably quite satisfying.

Our Visit to Old Lady Mary

2013-04-24T23:24:00.001-07:00

Two weeks have passed since we saw our friend Mary (aka Old Lady Mary or Grandma Mary*), and yet I've not filled you in on our outfits. Apologies. Do you like how I am the only one looking cheery in this photo? Cheery and rumpled? This might be the worst photo in the history of Old Lady Mary photos, what with Zinashi's disgruntled face spoiling the beauty of her outfit. And my outfit was way more adorable than it looks in the photo - those tights are purple, matching the purple part of the print on the dress perfectly. Not that Mary noticed what I was wearing anyway, but still. I made serious effort!

The children, of course, were noticed and doted on by Grandma Mary. She loved how fancy they both were and that they matched. She had a little goodie bag of candy for Zinashi and was just so thrilled to see us. The feeling was mutual. I missed this lady.

Or perhaps I should say miss. Present tense. I am horrible with the phone and terrible at getting things mailed. I miss being nearby and popping in every week with her groceries. We will be back in Kansas City briefly in May, and she is the one person in the city that I will visit. Mary B, Queen of KC, we are coming back soon. Hang in there.

*Old Lady Mary is our friend who I met through my good friend Nicole. She is nearly ninety-three, has no living family that we know of, and lives on a diet of peanut butter, chocolate milk, and occasionally Pringles. She has never been to a doctor in her life, and she doesn't intend to go. She's fine, clearly. When I first started visiting her, she decided that I was just like a fashion model, and I did not correct her. Rather, I started dressing up every week in anticipation of her reactions. When Zinashi came along, she took over as star of the fashion show. I truly miss our visits, every single week.

Celebrating Six

2013-04-23T00:21:00.001-07:00

So we had a little party for Zinashi's birthday. It was hot on the heels of two weeks of mayhem, and a few days before she suggested that we just skip it. I seriously considered it, but in the end I knew that she would be dreadfully unhappy later if we didn't have the party. So I put some sloppy joe meat in the crock pot, fired up the oven to make tater tots, and we had ourselves a party. I bought the above flowers as a last minute addition to the party table, much to Zinashi's delight. Flowers were not part of the Official Party Plan, drawn up months in advance in a fit of jealousy over Elvie's party, but they were welcomed with open arms.

The official theme was pink bunnies, but it ended up being a mishmash of bunnies and balloons and streamers and a banner for which she chose the font. The bunny cake itself was decorated exactly as Zinashi instructed, with a pink tail, but brown and white fur. Because bunnies don't usually have pink fur. I mean, duh. If we're going to make it less than realistic, let's just keep that bit to the tail portion of the rabbit in question.

Each year I order a special outfit for the birthday girl to wear at her party, and this year I stumbled across this sweater dress in an Instagram shop. When it was time to get dressed, however, Zinashi felt it wasn't fancy enough. I told her that she could just wear her bunny skirt instead, and her eyes lit up. "I can wear both!" she trumpeted. "Do you think that will make me really bunny?"

Yes. No one could be more bunny than you.

In the end, the party was just right. We had enough guests to make Zinashi feel really special without having so many that she was completely overwhelmed. She closed out the evening by inspecting her gifts while trying to shoo away her little sister. Yep, seems about right.

Celebrating six was fun. Let's do it again next year.*

*Because surely she'll just be six again next year. There's no way she could possibly turn seven in a year, is there? I didn't think so.

Let's Start This Week Off Right

2013-04-22T07:15:00.000-07:00

If Monday's got you down, and you need a reason to keep on keeping on, let Elvie's hair be that reason. Is it not magnificent enough to make even the worst day bearable? I think it is.

Carry on, friends. Elvie's hair will be right here for you whenever you need it.

Home

2013-04-17T23:25:00.000-07:00

While we were in Kansas City, Elvie figured out how to climb. This presents some challenges to the rest of us.

So we went to Kansas City. We saw a lot of people. The kids got so many presents that we had to ask Jarod's dad to ship them home in a big box; they wouldn't fit in the luggage. We did a bunch of errands to try to get our house ready to sell. We all saw Old Lady Mary, including Jarod. I got food poisoning. I got well. We flew home. It was a whirlwind, just like that. So many precious faces, and so much to do. I felt like we could have used at least a week more.

Aside from introducing everyone to Elvie, there was one other big reason for this trip. Zinashi needed to say good-bye to our old house. When we took her, she sweetly said good-bye and gave a compliment to each and every room as we walked through. I know that house is special to her, and I wish that we were able to keep it as a storehouse for all our early family memories. I suppose it would be a waste of a house, but still. Bringing Zinashi home to it made it precious from that moment until forever. I will miss knowing that it is there, still belonging to us, too.

But now we are at home in this home, in San Francisco, with all the comforts we've put in it. As much as we miss much of our life in Kansas City, we love it here, too, and I firmly believe that this is exactly where we are meant to be at this time in our life as a family. Our hearts will be forever in Kansas City, just as they are forever in Ethiopia, and will be forever here in San Francisco someday when we leave this town behind, too. What truly makes our home is who is in it, and we are all here, together, our little family snuggled up tight.

It is good to be home.

Hey from Kansas City

2013-04-11T20:25:00.001-07:00

Well, we made it to Kansas City, and we've been on the move ever since. Elvie did beautifully during her first domestic flight. I won't say that it's easy flying with a fourteen-month-old that we affectionately call Baby Godzilla, but I think it was as easy as it can get. I know the Sky Mall people are really hoping flyers will peruse their catalog and purchase something interesting, but I used mine to entertain the baby. She was beyond thrilled to be allowed to tear apart all those pages. And Zinashi, well, she was so excited to finally be back on an airplane that there was nothing for her to do but be a model traveler. Many people complimented us on our children's good behavior during flight, and I'd like to pretend that it was because we are stellar parents, but I think it has more to do with each of their particular temperaments and developmental stages than anything else.

In other news, Elvie abhors the car seat and cried herself to sleep for the very first time ever tonight on our drive from my parents' farm back into the city. womp womp wooooommmmpppp Oh, well. You can't win 'em all, and I'd much rather win the ones that we'll encounter most often. Sorry, Elvie. We'll be back to the bus soon, I promise.

And I'll be back on this here blog once we're back in San Francisco, to regale you with tales of our triumphant return to Blanc, what we wore to visit Old Lady Mary (I got a hug! She never lets me hug her directly!), and all sorts of other nonsense. Until then, have a glorious weekend, and start your week out right. I'll be back at my own messy desk on Tuesday night.