a mini-meltdown and a prayer request

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I am having a hard night tonight. Our little guy in Haiti, Keanan, is in the hospital. He has a really bad infection in his foot. It's a bacterial infection, probably staph or something like it. Bacterial infections can be nasty to battle even in the US. Could you please pray that the antibiotics work quickly, and that the infection will go away for good and not require any further intervention? He was admitted on Thursday, and I've been trying to take it in stride. But tonight it just kind of hit me. I’ve never had a child in the hospital, and it’s really difficult not to be consumed with worry. It is so hard to be away from him while he is hurting so much. Thankfully, he is in a good hospital, and our orphanage is taking amazing care of him. They have a nanny with him 24/7 and they are keeping me updated every day.





Mark and Jafta will be visiting March 12-17. We planned the trip before Keanan got sick. I would really love for them to have a great bonding time together, so I am praying he heals quickly and is back to his regular self soon. I've already been feeling really down about not being able to visit myself. Now I'm wishing even more that I could fly out there. It's tough to feel so powerless as a mom. I know he is in good hands, but I wish I was the one holding him tonight.

I think it's time for me to sit down and have a good, hormone-fueled cry.

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Do's and Don't For Sending Racially Insensitive Emaill Forwards

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Earlier this week, one of the mayor's in Orange County was busted for sending this photo to a list of people in his email contacts, with the following caption:

"No Easter egg hunt at the White House this year"

Since Mr. Grose appears to be in need of some guidance on how to conduct himself, I offer my handy list of tips for what to do when you get caught sending a racially insensitive email:





1. Stop sending racially offensive emails. No matter how funny they are, the little chuckle you get at the cost of denegrating another race is not worth it.

2. Don't defend yourself by saying how many black friends you have, and that you all joke around all the time.


3. Don't point out that if a black person sent this, no one would mind. First of all, yes, people would still mind. Second of all, in the words of my mother, "two wrongs don't make a right".


And most importantly:

4. Don't pretend like you had no idea that the photo had racial overtones, and that you had never heard of the watermelon stereotype. It makes you sound like a moron who has been living under a rock. Or a liar. Everyone has made some racially-insensitive mistakes. It doesn't make you a cross-burning racist to own that, and to set an example of someone willing to admit their own racial bias. The only thing worse than being a jackass is not taking responsibility for being a jackass. In the words of Avenue Q: everyone's a little bit racist. You can't change it until you acknowledge it. And Mayor Grose, clearly it's time for you to change.




Oh, and Mr. Grose, remind me to send you this joke I heard about a Mexican and a Jew who walk into a bar. It's HILARIOUS! Not that I understand the racist overtones or anything . . . and neither will you. If it offends someone, we are completely innocent of any wrongdoing. But you can forward it to all your friends!!!

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the young poet's society

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I bought The Book of Virtues: A Treasury of Great Moral Stories years ago, back when I was a grad student and children were just a faint idea in a distant future. I loved this collection of classic stories, and recently as I was going through my books, I rediscovered it and thought it would be great to introduce it to my kids. We have started reading portions of it to the kids at night, and at mealtimes. I could go on and on about this book, and a part of me is tempted to just stop writing altogether, and just post one of the selections here every day. It's that good. Read excerpts here.


What I love about it:


1) it introduces kids to some of the great authors, philosophers, and poets of past and present
2) the stories are all very brief, in kid-sized nuggets
3) the language is difficult, but this kind of reading is so beneficial to developing a child's vocabulary (and one of the reasons Jafta now uses words and phrases like, "perhaps", "therefore", "this is wondrous", and "I've soiled my hands".
4) the chapters are organized by different virtues, so if there is a particular character issue that needs a little tweaking in your home, it's easy to find a story that fits, fromself-discipline, and compassion to friendship and honesty
5) this book is a literature geek's goldmine
6) even pirates extoll the virtues of poetry reading:



This past month, we've started reading the following poem before every meal. Now, at first glance, I admit this poem seems a bit, how shall we say . . . stodgy and strict. (Yes, that age-old goodie "children should be seen and heard" is from this very poem). But I like the values that it teaches about how kids should compose themselves at meals. Now - since reading this, do my meals look like the one described here? Mwaahahahahahahah. No. But we are moving in the right direction, and the kids can now recite most of the poem, explain what it means, and THE BEST PART: catch themselves (or more likely, each other) when they are not being appropriate.



Table Rules for Little Folks
In which we learn how to take our daily bread.

In silence I must take my seat,
And give God thanks before I eat;
Must for my food in patience wait,
Till I am asked to hand my plate;
I must not scold, nor whine, nor pout,
Nor move my chair nor plate about;
With knife, or fork, or napkin ring,
I must not play, nor must I sing.
I must not speak a useless word,
For children should be seen, not heard;
I must not talk about my food,
Nor fret if I don't think it good;
I must not say, "The bread is old,"
"The tea is hot," "The coffee's cold";
My mouth with food I must not crowd,
Nor while I'm eating speak aloud;
Must turn my head to cough or sneeze,
And when I ask, say "If you please";
The tablecloth I must not spoil,
Nor with my food my fingers soil;
Must keep my seat when I have done,
Nor round the table sport or run;
When told to rise, then I must put
My chair away with noiseless foot;
And lift my heart to God above,
In praise for all his wondrous love.






Here's a little video of India reading the book, which she called the "pom pom" book. Can you tell what virtues Miss Sassypants is working on developing right now??

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the follow-up show

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Here's a little update on some of the things going around here:

The Black dolls: I would like to give a big shout-out to all the diversity-adverse moms in Orange County. Thanks to your racial preference in doll shopping, I was able to snag the HSM Taylor and Chad doll set on clearance at Target for only $5.74. But there are plenty of blonde Sharpay and Ryan sets still available for $24.99!

The MILF tee: True confession - I wear it. A lot. Along with all the other tacky message tees I've gotten as samples through Mama Manifesto. I am up to my ears in message tees, and while I think all of them are stupid, some of them are really, really comfy. I only wear them to bed, which just prompts Mark to make lots of innappropriate comments that I won't be repeating here.

The 3-D glasses: He still hasn't noticed this picture on my blog

The name game: No name for my daughter, no new name for the blog. Indecisiveness rules.

The 7-day sex challenge: Mwahahahahaha. Two words: third trimester. Kudos to my inspiring blog friends who pulled it off. Maybe someday . . .

The spine bookshelf: Still large and in charge in the living room, mostly because I'm too lazy to move it.

Keanan - We miss him like crazy. Mark and Jafta are going for a visit in a few week! They will be in Haiti March 13-17th. I am insanely jealous. Jafta is starting to ask more and more why he can't come home yet, and even offered to give the new baby away to his best friend Ryder so that Keanan could come home, instead.

The purses from Haiti: All sold! Thank you!! Mark and Jafta will be taking some fabric for the sewing school when they visit. Heartline is working on a website that will sell them full-time, so I will keep you posted!

India's baby issues: I think she is slowly warming to the idea of a new baby. Meeting her new cousin really helped. She was very interested at our last visit:

But she still want to be the "new baby" herself. I think this video perfectly illustrates Jafta's enthusiasm about being a big brother, and India's ambivalence about being a big sister:

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the woozy ultrasound

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I am 32 weeks today. It's hard to believe I'm so close to meeting my baby girl. Then again, I feel like I have been pregnant forever and cannot believe it's possible I could get any MORE pregnant. I am huge. Really, huge. I get the pleasure of random people telling me that on a daily basis. "Wow, you look ready to pop!" I may pop the next person who tells me that.


Today I had an ultrasound, for the sole purpose of determining why I am so HUGE. I am measuring big, but the ultrasound revealed there is really nothing remarkable about it. I'm just one of those women who carries large-and-in-charge, and gestates bigger-than-average babies. And uses too many hyphens in one sentence.


I was having a lot of anxiety about this ultrasound. Okay, who am I kidding, I have a lot of anxiety about every doctor's appointments in regards to my pregnancy. I think I have a little pregnancy PTSD. I mean, I've had a lot of pregnancies, and a majority of them ended with a doctor's appointment where I'm told that the pregnancy is over. So it's sometimes hard to shake this fear of mine that at each appointment, a doctor will deliver some devastating bad news about my baby. I woke up this morning with a sense of dread, as I do pretty much any time I go to the doctor's. That was also coupled with my daily "normal but annoying" pregnancy symptoms of heart palpitations, gastrointestinal issues, trouble catching my breath, and sinus pressure that fogs my entire head. I was kind of a mess by the time they called me back for my appointment. The doctor measured the baby, and then told me she was breach, but to calm my fears, decided to illustrate that the baby could be easily moved at this stage of pregnancy. So he pressed down on my giant uterus with the wand, which in fact does make the baby move positions. Then he proceeds to tell me that sometimes, when he does that, it causes women to pass out from lying on their back and something about blood circulation and pressure and . . .

Can you guess what happens now?


I can't say I completely lost consciousness, but I did break out into that clammy, sweaty "I'm seeing stars" coma feeling. I had to ask for a puke bucket, and lay on my side for a few minutes, while Mark fanned me with a pregnancy magazine and India continually shouted "Mommy! Wake up! Wake UP, Mommy!" (This wasn't in a concerned for mom, neti-pot way, mind you. More in a bossy, "your nap is annoying me" kind of tone). And then I started to finally feel better, and felt it was my duty to show my doctor how funny I found the whole thing, and how casual and not-a-freak I am about it, and that this incident was purely due to a funny physiological phenomenon and certainly NOT because of my irrational, crippling anxiety. I'm sure I convinced him.


Anyways, all that drama to determine, baby is fine, Mommy is a wee bit crazy.


Even though I am so ready to be "not pregnant", I still go into shock a little bit realizing that the end result of all this discomfort and psychological paranoia is going to be an actual new baby. Getting to visit my new niece in the hospital, I kept thinking how I couldn't believe that would be me in a matter of weeks. I also finally pulled out all of the newborn clothes I kept from India, and hanging them up made me a little emotional, thinking of a new little girl wearing all of those clothes and sleeping in the crib and being here to love.


I am excited, and nervous, and ready. Kind of.

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who says tv is bad for kids?

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I know that there has been some recent research suggesting that there is no benefit to kids watching television, even when the shows are educational. But I beg to differ. My daughter is two years old, and I have never worked on the ABC's with her. Ever. I'm not one of those moms who does a lot of academic training with the kids. At this age, I try to stick to teaching them more practical things. Like how to give me a pedicure, or how to fetch mommy's box of Chardonnay from the fridge. But look at what India showed me she can do! This is all thanks to Sesame Street:



And check out these sweet dance moves Jafta is learning. I think he's ready to hit the clubs. (and yes, India is reading a High School Musical book. And yes, that's a pillow and heating pad on my sofa. I'm 8 months pregnant, ya'll).

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Peyton Lyons is here!

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The kids were thrilled to meet their new cousin today. Peyton is adorable, and has a head full of dark hair! Mommy and baby are doing well. Big brother Tanner is pretty proud, too.

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Why I support psychiatric drugs . . .

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Fun with Stats

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I hardly ever look at the stat counter for my blog, but today I checked and was really amused by this little fact:



16% of the people who visit my blog arrive here by googling the phrase "I Hate My Husband".



Awesome. So glad people are turning to google for wisdom on that issue. And then landing here.


For the record, I do not hate my husband. In fact, I think happiness is having a husband who cuts your apples every night. No, that is not an obscure sexual reference. I mean, he literally cuts up apples for me, and then serves them to me on a plate with a scoop of peanut butter. That's real love, people.

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America's Most Stressful Home Videos

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The other night Mark and I had a "date night" with Jafta. It was really cute. India spent the night with Grandma and Grandpa to get a little quality time in, and she went to a Gymboree class with cousin Tanner in the morning. So we knew we needed to frame it as a special night for Jafta. He was SO excited. In fact, he must have asked me 20 times what time our date night started, just to confirm it was really happening. He LOVES getting our undivided attention, and feeling like he is being let in on mommy and daddy's secret dating world.

So we went to Wahoo's, then Target (where he got to walk instead of ride in the cart) and then to frozen yogurt. He came home and we had another new treat: I had taped an episode of "America's Funniest Home Videos". Now this is not the typical tv fare that is on my DVR, but I had heard from a friend that her preschool-aged kids loved watching this show as a family. I had this fond memory of watching Dick Clark's TV's Bloopers and Practical Jokes with my own family. My sisters and I would look forward to it all week, and just laugh and laugh together. I envisioned this being the case with my four-year-old.

I should add that we are a fairly stingy family in terms of tv watching. I think Jafta has seen a total of four differen children's series before, most of them on PBS or Noggin. Don't get me wrong, he watches a little every day. But the selection is limited. So to watch a "grown up" show was quite a stretch.

At the end of the evening, we told him we had a surprise and cuddled up on the couch together. I told him we had a very funny new show we could watch together. Only, instead of laughing hysterically, Jafta found the entire show to be a big exercise in stress management. He was deeply concerned for every groin kicked and every head bonked. He was devastated by the dad who fell off a sled. He asked "Are they okay? What happened to them?" about every person who tripped and fell. He seemed completely freaked out by the dogs who tugged on their owners pants, or knocked over a table full of food. He found the show to be completely humorless and utterly disturbing in every way.

I love my son so much, and this little quirk was somehow so stinking cute. He is such an empathetic little guy. He was completely unwilling to sit back and laugh at other people's expense (this is not something he learned from me). What a sensitive little soul. So a few minutes in, we turned it off, and let him process a bit about all those poor people who kept falling down and hurting themselves, and what a strange and cruel world we live in. And then we decided we'd stick to watching musicals for our family tv night.

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regression

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There has been more and more baby talk around the house this month, as we start really preparing for her arrival. (And by her, I mean the "baby who has no name". Yeah. Still haven't decided). Less than two more months till d-day! YAY! We've moved India out of the crib and into a bed. The crib has been outfitted with a mobile and adjusted to the correct mattress height for an infant. India's closet has been taken over with infant clothes. Toys have been moved out of the room to make way for a baby swing. There is endless talk of her role as a big sister, and suggestions of how great it will be to have a new baby. Today, we pulled in the infant carseat and baby bathtub. Our house is ready.



And India's reaction to all of this upheaval and change?



She has completely regressed to acting like a baby.



She walks around the house cuddling on her blanket (sometimes even laying on the floor with it). She pretends she can't talk and speaks in goo goo ga ga phrases, pointing to what she wants (despite being one of the more verbally precocious toddlers I've ever seen). She found a pacifier somewhere, and has taken to wearing it. She pretends to cry and need consoling. She pretends she's cold and needs to be held.


She is pretty much showing us, in every possible way, that she is not comfortable being usurped as the baby of this family system. We learned about this "regressive" behavior in my child development classes. But leave it to India to so thoroughly and dramatically personify this psychological theory. There is no subtlety with India - she is saying it loud and clear.

This is in stark constrast to Jafta, who cannot wait to see the baby, asks about her every day, demonstrates how he will hold her and feed her, and seems to be thrilled to be a big brother to one more little girl.

But India. Oh, India. It may be a rough road for her.

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Are they TRYING to drive me crazy?

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Today while I was blow-drying my hair, India got a hold of our DVD holder, unzipped it, and then proceeded to systematically remove all 30some DVD's from their protective sleeve and scattered them about the room. Picking DVD's up off the ground while you are pregnant is SO comfortable. And it took me about 45 minutes to get them all back in.

Seriously. She is scheming on ways to drive me slowly insane.

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Mad Church Disease

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I am looking forward to reading this book. Not that we ever experienced church burnout. No . . . I want to be informed purely for my clients. Oh yeah, and I have a friend whose husband was in ministry.

Yeah. For those other people.

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How to Salvage Leftover Night

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A couple months ago, Mama Manifesto highlighted an idea we had seen on several other mommy blogs: Muffin Tin Monday. I must admit, I thought it was a cute idea, but I never got around to doing it. But . . . I found another great use for that muffin tin: leftover salvage.

Last week, we had one of those nights where the fridge was full of single-serving leftovers that needed to be eaten. We had a half-full box of takeout, a couple of previous nights's meals in tupperware, and a few perishable items that just needed to be eaten asap. Lots of food, and yet none of it was enough to stretch out for the whole family. However, I knew that no matter how much I strategized, if each of us was eating a seperate meal around the dinner table, there would be trouble. My kids are notorious for coveting the food on someone else's place, and a single-serving leftover night seemed like a recipe for disaster. Enter the muffin tin equalizer.

Rather than casting lots for each individual meal, I used our muffin tins to create equal portions of the leftovers we had. Each kid got a bit of mexican lasagna, shredded chicken, sweet potato stew, chinese fried rice takeout, and some fruit and corn chips. A mish-mosh of a meal? YES. But . . . the kids were thrilled. They thought this was the coolest dinner ever. Jafta was so excited that he asked me numerous times, "Mommy, how did you do this???" (Um, the microwave, my dear). They didn't care that they were eating random bits of cuisine that didn't necessarily go together. And there was no fighting. Just two full kids and an empty fridge. And that makes mama happy.

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one of the perks of your husband not reading your blog . . .

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. . . is that you can post embarrassing photos of him and it will be weeks before he notices.

Per your request, here is my hubby, Mark Howerton MFT, watching Chuck with his 3-D glasses on.

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My Blog Needs A New Name

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So I think I want to change the name of my blog. I'm not gonna start using code names for the kids or anything, but I have been thinking that perhaps using my last name in the title is not the best idea. Also, when I named this blog 500 years go, I really had no idea what a blog was. I was just using it to post updates on Mark's accident back in the day. I think 2 people read it at the time.

There are so many cute and clever blog titles out there. Here are some that I like:

Blogging is the New Black
Cheaper Than Therapy
Girl Gone Child
Mama Manifesto (who is the genious who came up with that one?)
The Extraordinary Ordinary
McSweeney's Internet Tendency
Spilt Milk
Breed 'Em and Weep
Grit and Glory
Motherhood Uncensored
Mamalogues

These are smart names. These are clever names. These are blogs that say, hey, come read me! I might just be as fun as my title!

The howerton family blog . . . Um, not such much.

So please. Give me some blog names. I've got nuthin'. I can't even name my daughter. Surely someone has a clever name idea for me.

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the pressure of social networking

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Alright, I've submitted to the Facebook peer pressure. I can't even count how many times I've been tagged to do this. My list of 25 random things:

1. Both of my parents are high-level black belts in Tae Kwon Do, and ran a karate studio while I was growing up. When kids started fighting about whose dad could beat up the other dads, I was always pretty sure mine would win.


2. I would like to live in a hotel. It's a dream of mine to be in vacation-mode 24/7 and have someone clean up and make my bed every day.


3. I majored in piano for two years, and now I can barely play.


4. If I haven't been out of the USA for a few months, I start to slowly die inside. I love to travel and if I were wealthy it's all I would do.


5. I love Jon Stewart. In an inappropriate, stalker-ish way (at least that's the wording in the restraining order).


6. When I was in middle school, I went through a phase where I systematically rented every movie in the "B-movie" section at Blockbuster.
7. I was a pastor's kid, and then a pastor's wife, until I was 33. I love not being in that role anymore. In in weird way, it has strengthened my relationship with God.


8. I love my church SOOOO much, but the lack of racial diversity there really bothers me. It's an issue I have no idea how to solve.


9. I am way more introverted than anyone thinks


10. I don't follow the vaccination schedule for my kids but I gave them the flu shot this year. I surrendered my values to avoid cleaning up puke while pregnant. So far - no flu. :)


11. I hate being pregnant. It seems harder for me, both physically and emotionally, than it does for other women.


12. I once took my in-laws to see the movie Something About Mary, without knowing what it was about. It is the most awkward two hours I have every spent.


13. I don't wear pastels or bright colors. Ever. It makes doing laundry very convenient. I only have "darks".


14. I am in total denial about needing a minivan for four kids. I have spent countless hours googling other options in some futile attempt to find an alternative.


15. I loved the show Six Feet Under so much that when it was over, I felt like I had lost a friend.


16. I am very opinionated. I love a good debate, and I rarely get my feelings hurt from a difference of ideas. I realize this is not always a shared value, and I'm trying harder to keep my mouth shut.
17. When Mark and I were first married, I worked as a can-can dancer in a touristy Orlando bar.


18. I'm a lightweight when it comes to drinking, and I get a headache from even the smallest amount of alcohol. So even though I joke about being a lush, it's really all talk. I rarely drink, and don't really care for it.


19. I want to like Rushdie. But I don't.


20. I always knew I wanted to be a therapist. But I never imagined I would be married to one.


21. I stay up way too late. It's a horrible, horrible habit that I cannot quit.


22. Most of what I say on Facebook is a joke. I don't really text while my clients are talking, or put mascara on my 2-year-old, or smoke pot, or stalk Jon Stewart. I sometimes wonder how many people might be taking me seriously.


23. I hate being cold. I don't know how anyone lives in cold weather. I had a great college experience in Cincinnati, but the winters were so bad that I graduated a semester early just to get outta the midwest freeze. Scraping snow off the windshield of a car is something I hope I never have to do again.


24. I love the smell of sharpie markers.


25. I am very content with my home, my husband, my kids, my church, and my friends. It is a good place to be.

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Kristen tackles the issues

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Okay, this is a meaningless post where I am gonna comment about some of the stuff I'm watching on tv. Because I am in my third trimester. And anemic and weak and feeling really crappy. AND I'M WATCHING A LOT OF TV.

The Bachelor - thank goodness 34-year-old pageant girl Stephanie is gone. When she broke into "opera voice" last week I almost threw up in my mouth. I'm all for opera voice if you are joking around. I don't think she was joking. Her clothes make me think she believes she is 12 years old. I'm still not sure I believe she is only 34. And a sleeveless fur jacket? Is there ever a good reason for a sleeveless fur over a t-shirt? So your core is warm and toasty but your arms are freezing? Don't even get me started on the giant costume jewelry, the eyebrows, and the way her giant forehead doesn't move.

Rob Blagojevich - Someone put a muzzle on him already. Why is everyone interviewing him? I watched Letterman last night and he let crazy hair guy prattle on for 40 minutes, and then gave Richard Jenkins, one of the most talented actors ever, a measly 6 minutes at the end of the show. I'm sick of Rob and his cavalier denial of responsibility. Why is the media rewarding bad behavior?

Christian Bale - Hey angry guy, find yourself a therapist. Anger management is a good thing.

The Octuplets - So now the mom has a publicist, who is shopping her story around. I'm hesitant to say too much because I think there is even more crazy yet to be revealed. It's a train wreck and I can't wait to see more. Although, even though this mom sounds off her rocker, I am surprised at how many people are outraged that she didn't "selectively reduce" her babies. Um, doesn't pro-choice go both ways???

Ted Haggard - The Oprah interview was fascinating. Almost more fascinating than what Ted had to say was Oprah's reaction to it. Just last year, she had a psychologist on the show, who was explaining that sexual orientation is a spectrum. And yet Oprah seems hell-bent on making Ted Haggard pick a side, and it better be the gay one. I noticed this in other interviews he gave, too. It strikes me curious that people who profess being gay-friendly are so overtly uncomfortable with someone who may be bisexual, or heterosexual with homosexual temptations, or otherwise not fitting into a perfect little category sexually. Oprah basically accuses Ted of denying his identity for not "going gay". Since when is our identity based on sexual behavior? Ted admits to being confused, and was open about being molested by a male at a young age. Of all people, I would think Oprah would be more empathetic to the ambivalence this could lead to. Not to mention, if deciding to deny certain sexual impulses means a denial of our identity, then we are all in trouble. Cause at the end of the day, most people have sexual impulses that are confusing to them, in some way or another. If Ted Haggard wants to continue in his marriage, why is everyone giving him a hard time about it?

LOST - I need to break up with this show. It's just making me more and more annoyed. Sometimes I think the writers are just sitting around smoking pot and laughing about how they have no clue where this is going. It sucks me in with the mystery and then reveals absolutely nothing. The plotlines are preposterous, and I can't even follow it anymore. "THREE MONTHS EARLIER" . . . three months earlier from which part of this non-linear episode? What time is it? Where are we? LOST, you LOST me at time travel.

A Very Duggar Wedding- Why am I so fascinated with this family? Their clothes and hair are bizarre, their emphasis on procreation confounds me, they use the phrase "transfer of authority" to describe a girl getting married, and they seem to be living in a weird alternate-universe bubble. And yet . . . I love them and their simple ways. Being from Orange County, these people are complete enigmas to me. I might as well be watching an athropological documentary on the indigenous people of the amazon. You don't see people like the Duggars in these here parts. I want to sit at her feet to figure out how she got her kids to be such courteous, respective, conservative, and helpful little citizens. Although, I probably wouldn't like the answer.

Dick Cheney - Shut up. Shut. Up. Fear-mongering is SO Dobson 2008.

Barack Obama - I was cringing all week at the Tom Daschle thing. It seemed like a major misstep to me, and left me scratching my head at what Obama was thinking. Until I see him interviewed by Anderson Cooper, where he admits that it was a mistake. Our President, admitting on national television, "I screwed up". What a refreshing change of pace from the prideful, "we're always right" mantra of the last administration. One thing is for sure - in life, there will always be mistakes. Being willing to admit that, even in a position of leadership, is a beautiful thing.

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Ou pral rete avek nou.

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Ou pral rete avek nou - You are going to live with us.

I've been having a discontented week. If you've been pregnant, you know that feeling when you are nearing the end, and you are just OVER the wait, and ready for the baby to be born already? Yeah, that's how I feel times two right now. I'm anxious for our baby girl to be born, but I'm also feeling a growing sense of wanting and needing Keanan home.

I know it's mostly about me, because he is perfectly happy where he is at. There were several adoptive parents and friends who visited this month, and they shared photos with me, which is such a treat. He is having fun, he is loved and well cared for. He loves jumping on the trampoline, playing with his friends, swinging, and hanging from the window bars like it's a jungle gym. He's a typical, happy kid. But I just want him home in a big way.

I got a book recently to help me learn Haitian Creole. When we started this process, I thought we would be bringing Keanan home long before he was really talking. But as it drags out, I am slowly adjusting to the idea that there might be a language barrier by the time he comes home. There is a great book that helps teach simple phrases that would come up in our situation. As I started the first chapter, I was overcome with emotion at some of the phrases:

I am your mommy

You are my son

We are so happy you are a part of our family

We love you so much

Don't be afraid

We are going to ride on an airplane

You are going to live with us

We will take good care of you

What surreal and powerful words to learn to say to my son. I look forward to the day I can say them to him SO MUCH. Sometimes it feels so far off. Sometimes it feels like a dream to think of flying on a plane with him, and landing in LA, and having him in my car, and showing him his room and his bed. I am anxious for that day to come.

PS Thank you Jess, Kim, and Pearson's for the photos.

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