Christmas and linguistics

First off, Merry Christmas!! What a beautiful, warm day we had to celebrate the birth of our Lord. I hope you all had as lovely a day as we did.

Curly Fry does not speak very clearly. There are a lot of sounds he doesn't say yet--like t's, k's, f's, any consonant combinations, etc. There are some sounds he can say, but only does in certain words for whatever reason. For example, He can say Mommy, but he won't say "moo" like a cow. Whenever we see a cow he yells happily, "Bow!! Boooooo!!!" (cow, moo)

Last night I was trying to help him ask to be excused when he finished his dinner instead of just yelling. A language learning opportunity! I had him repeat after me:

me: May
Curly: AAA
me: I
Curly: I
me: please
Curly: eeeeee
me: be
Curly: eeeeee

I stopped and said, "No, you can do this! Say, 'boo'." So he said, "boo."
I then said, "Good, now say 'be.'" He said "eeeee."
I said, "No, say 'boo'", which he did and then 'be', which he again said incorrectly. I was persistent and kept repeating the two words to try and help him make the sound connection. After a short while, the the ever helpful Junior Mint, with a wicked look in his eye, began chanting loudly, "Boo-bee! boo-bee! boo-bee!!"

Woops. I did not even see that one coming. Curly Fry still can't say 'be' and 7 year old Junior Mint won't stop yelling, "Booby! Booby!" Not exactly the linguistics lesson I had in mind...

Adoption on my mind and Curly Fry will be 2 this week!

The first time I held Curly Fry.

Mad Baby Curly Fry: 1 day old

Curly Fry smiling in his sleep: a few days old

Curly Fry and Junior Mint's 1st meeting!!!

Brothers. Kind of eery how alike they look, don't you think? (Before the curls came in, that is.)

Adoption has played a major role in my life. Obviously. It's on my mind tonight for a few reasons...1) I learned today that I had been misinformed and that our baby's (Squeaky Bean) adoption isn't final yet like we were told and won't be for at least 2 months. 2) There was a great adoption special from the Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption (http://www.davethomasfoundation.org/) on tv tonight and I wept for all the children in need of families and in joy for those families who have found each other through adoption. 3) Watching the tv special made me reflect on what our life would be like without our two adopted children and I felt extra grateful as they giggled and played together tonight. So, tonight I feel a little like sharing a small part of our adoption journey. Here goes.

After the death of our daughter nearly 6 years ago and the many (read 6) miscarriages we've experienced--one on the first anniversary of our daughter's death if you can appreciate the sad irony--we can see how plain a miracle it is that our only living biological child exists at all. And we are sensibly grateful for him. (I love you Junior Mint. What would we ever do without you?) If you are happy to be part of a big family like I am--one of six--you will understand my growing concern at our son's lone place in our family. I feel like a childhood without siblings is half-lived... at least I can't imagine it without a sense of deep loss. We wanted more children for ourselves--we felt our family was not complete as it was--and we wanted our son to have siblings.

After our 4th miscarriage, I brought up adoption as a valid choice for growing our family to my sweet husband. He took a little time to acclimate to the idea and sometime later, we began the tedious, heart-wrenching, frustrating, exciting, unpredictable, spirit-filled, prayerful, humbling, life-changing journey of adoption. If you are ever going to adopt, it is very helpful to relinquish the idea that you have any control of your life...having baby after baby die is helpful in this process, but is not the preferred route.

After one very sad false hope of adoption (which was like a miscarriage without the bleeding), and 2 years of hoping and praying and giving up and hoping again, we received word that we were chosen to adopt a baby boy who would be born in the Sacramento, California area any day. We were shocked and elated!! (And honestly, I was a little concerned it might not be the kid for us because I had always thought we'd get a black or biracial little girl and I couldn't see how this fit my preconceived notion.) It was a hellish month later that our sweet son was born. (I say month because the doctors let his poor birthmom go 3 weeks late.) I say hellish not because we felt conflicted or didn't want him. Of course we did! But I was riddled with fears that it wouldn't really work out. I was crying at unpredictable moments, prone to spastic elation, and carried around a new baby bottle my friend had given me like a security blanket, clinging to this symbol of hope that we would get this new baby. Basically, I was a wreck.

If you were unfortunate enough to be my friend at that time, you will remember that I stopped taking phone calls because every time the phone rang, my heart lept and then fell when it wasn't "the call." (Sorry, Emily.) And if you were an old childhood friend, you'll probably never realize how much your incomprehensible certainty that it would work out convinced me to be hopeful for days at a time when my own faith wasn't enough to go on. (Thanks, Lisa.)

When it finally was time--2 days after Christmas--and it really was "the call" despite my assurance to my mother-in-law that it certainly wasn't when she anxiously answered the phone, we bought tickets, packed up, drove to BWI and were in the air 3 hours later. (It helped being in Delaware and being able to leave Junior Mint with his beloved Grammie.) That night at about 1 a.m. we landed in Sacramento, picked up a rental car and drove to a complete stranger's house who was the mother-in-law of the sister of a friend I met twice at adoption activities in Utah. (Yeah, not exactly a direct connection.) This amazing, loving family started out as strangers and quickly felt like family to me--especially after my husband went home and I stayed with our new son to await approval to cross state borders and return home. (Thank you forever, Kelly family.)

The next morning--before 7 am, I think--we got a call from our social worker instructing us to head over to the hospital because our son's birthmother wanted to go home and we needed to be there with him. Now, don't judge this woman unkindly. She willingly went through a pregnancy whose fruits she would not keep and enjoy because although her child was unexpected, he was not unloved. He deserved a family and she would find him one. She prayerfully chose a family for him and to our eternal gratitude, it was ours. When she had done her part, she felt a deep need to move forward with her life. We met her and her mother, spent time with them talking about their interests and life stories. After our conversation, we went into the nursery and first clamped eyes on our little Curly Fry. I think I insisted that Hubba Hubba get to hold him first. He was a little beauty. After meeting his birthmom, I had high hopes that his hair would someday be curly and it has proven so. (One AWESOME advantage of adoption over biological reproduction is that you are not limited by your genes. I could never have produced a child with such prodigiously beautiful curls as our son has.)

Soon after we met Curly Fry, we returned to his birthmom and said goodbye as she prepared to leave the hospital. We made arrangements to come to dinner at their family home the next day and that was a wonderful experience where we got to meet all the biological relatives around and they got to meet us. I hope they felt comforted that this little boy was going to a home where he would be treasured and loved. We definitely felt grateful to meet this large, loving family and learn so many good things to teach our son about his biological heritage. Anyway, after the birthmom left, we got to spend the rest of the time with our baby in the hospital--about 2 days and 1 night as it turned out.

When I called my mom to tell her we were really there and he was really ours, she asked me how it felt. I think she expected a different answer than what I gave her. I said it felt warm and soft to hold him. I didn't have any lightning bolt experiences with this new son. But it felt right. It didn't take long at all to feel that he was ours and would be forever. And I hope and pray each day that we will live worthy of the blessing of eternity with our family.

As a side note--when we called and told Junior Mint that he had a brother, his first counsel was, "Don't let him catch on fire." Sage advice indeed. We have heeded it faithfully. (I think he was deeply affected by Jack Jack from The Incredibles.) And those two have been the sweetest pair of brothers ever since they first met--despite the 5 year age difference. I am so glad they have each other...and only 14 months later, a sister! But that is a story for another post...

Exorcism

I got a great tag from my awesome little sister. She's working on exorcising a few demons and I happily come to her aid here in this blog. Here's the link to her post where she tagged me and others. http://plainbellied.blogspot.com/search/label/Exorcising

For starters, a relevant story:
My oldest sister recently told me a story about a friend of hers who was acting a bit too much like her mother. This friend's husband went up to her, put his palm against her forehead and said, "Karen Sue Williams (I'm making that up--He said whatever her mom's name was), I exorcise you!!" His wife realized she was channeling her mom and got back to normal. I think we could all use that sometimes.

My younger sister tagged me to write about ways I overcome feelings of inadequacy and self-loathing and then write some things I like about myself. A lot of my answers will probably start with a story to give it context. Anyway, here we go:

1. I've gone to big schools, but the high school I graduated from was tiny. There were about 42 people in my graduating class. Then I went to BYU...um...30,000 people or so bigger. I felt distinctly unimportant, untalented, and unattractive. I've always compared myself too much to others and this sent that bad habit into overdrive. For a short while, I seemed doomed to perpetual self-loathing. Then one day, I realized that if I could be as grateful for other people's blessings as I am for my own, I wouldn't be jealous. So I gave it a try. I would be walking around campus and see something I thought was great for another person and silently pray in thanks to God that he gave them that thing...like cool socks, or great clothes, or beautiful skin, or wonderful musical abilities, etc. (Obviously they were usually external things--I couldn't see their intelligence or compassion.)
I found as I prayed in gratitude for them, I would think of how those blessings could also be challenges. I would pray for the exceptionally pretty girl to be able to know when a guy liked her for who she was and that girls would be nice to her. (Let's face it, girls are notoriously hard on women prettier than they are and it's tough for the gorgeous ones to make friends. I've since been grateful to be of very average beauty because I have lots of great girlfriends!) I would pray that the person who was so tremendously musically gifted would be able to have the humility to recognize that God gave them that gift and not struggle with pride their whole life.
I learned as I prayed in gratitude for others' blessings and for their perceived trials, that I felt real love for these total strangers and didn't feel jealous of their gifts. I didn't feel diminished by their excellence anymore because I realized it didn't change my own abilities or appearance in reality. That's a really long answer, but it was really the most profoundly helpful step in accepting myself.

2. When my HubbaHubba left for his mission, I was a first class piner. I pined away for him in my heart in a way that to this day, he still doesn't really believe. I thought about him constantly, missed him always, took Spanish in the hopes he'd like me more when he got home, kept a special place for new letters in my bedroom... One day, on my long walk home, I realized that as great as he was, I'd better think about more than just him if I wanted to be an improved human being the next time I saw him. For my own growth, I figured the best thing to focus my thoughts on would be God. That was intimidating. I was walking a couple miles and couldn't just pull out my scriptures and read about him, so I decided to figure out things we had in common as a starting point...just like you do when you're making a new friend. You may be a little stumped. I was. What could I possibly have in common with God or Jesus Christ?
It was a beautiful fall day. There were gorgeous almost neon yellow leaves on the trees by the art museum. "Jesus made those," I thought. "He must love yellow leaves. I love yellow leaves." It was a start. I began to think of all the things that make me truly happy...like dancing, writing, music, art, nature... Jesus made all those things available to me. Why would he create something that he didn't love? Could he create something and not love it? I don't think so. Though the gap is infinitely wide between my Maker and myself, thinking of him as a friend and knowing I had some of the same joys he must have made me feel better--bigger inside myself.

3. I need exercise. It makes me feel like I have a chance of mastering myself. Being out alone (or with a good friend) running or walking makes me feel a little more eternal. That sounds weird. But what I mean is that we know we always existed--as matter before we were formed into spirit bodies and then into mortal ones. And we know we'll keep on existing forever. But sometimes when I'm home alone with the children for days on end, I get feeling like this life is all I've ever had or will have. I don't mean that to be ungrateful. If there were only one phase of life available to me, I think I'd pick this one, but it is so comforting to me to have times when I feel like just me--not anybody else's anything, except God's child. Within the protective knowledge that God is my father and he loves me, it's hard to get unduly worked up about unkind things other people may say or do.
Plus, when my body is stronger, in my whole soul I feel more powerful and brave and capable.

Now for the tricky part...what I love about me:
(Honestly, you have to imagine a very long pause here and a little discomfort in the chest region. This is harder for me than I'd like it to be and I don't want to sound braggy.)

1. I like my bright red hair. It took many years and lots of viewings of Anne of Green Gables, plus some famously pretty redheads to come to that, but I do. For fun, here's a list of lovely redheads: Anne, (obviously), Mary Jane (of Spiderman fame), Jean Grey (X-Men, of course), Jessica Rabbit (this one's ridiculous, I know, but before that stupid Roger Rabbit movie came out, I didn't know people could see redhead's as anything but freckley messes), the Little Mermaid (I had a whole collection of dolls), that one girl in JEM's band, Julianne Moore, and now Amy Adams.
Here is a short list of culturally known redheads who did not make my life easier as a child: Pippi Longstocking, Harriet from the tv show "Small Wonder", and little orphan Annie.

2. I really mean to do the right thing all the time and be as kind as I know how. I fail a lot, but I am always trying--especially in how I treat my husband and friends.

3. I like that my arms are pretty small like my mom's. Lucky genetics in that case, I think.

4. I always apologize and admit it when I realize I've been wrong or done something wrong. I think that's a good quality.
I usually think I'm right and that's okay with me, but I don't NEED to be right. I hate being wrong, but it's not because I look bad, but because I feel so terrible when I've made a mistake.

5. I like my writing style. I'm no genius, but I'm always conversational and I sound like myself.

So there you have it. PlainBellied might be the only one to finish this monster long post because she asked for it. I love her and that's okay with me. =) Thanks, Plainbellied. This was good for me.

I KNEW it!!! Valentine's Day, baby

What is the US release date for the Twilight DVD?

"...At the moment, the date is Valentine's Day (Sat, Feb. 14th)...The price will be 19.99 unless you want the 2disc Special Edition, and that will be 22.99. The date may change, but they said it probably won't. If it does, it will be within two or so weeks of that date."

http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_is_the_US_release_date_for_the_Twilight_DVD

the Chitlins...

2 recent thoughts from my only verbal child:

"He hit me on my body part!" ---I swear I taught him correct anatomical language...but then I told him not to say it ALL the time. I guess this is what we get.

"Maybe he thinks they're holes of grossness..." ---Junior Mint on why his younger brother wouldn't take the penne pasta I offered him.

As for the nonverbal children, at 14 months apart, they are becoming more like twins every day as the gap in their developmental levels closes. They are so fun and cute, but also manage to cause a lot of trouble for such little people.

They get into the bathroom and the older one turns on the water while the younger one rips up all the toilet paper. Or the older one opens the fridge and both babies take out everything they can reach before I get to them. Yesterday, I came into the room after maybe 3 minutes away and Sqeaky Bean was on the living room floor surrounded by litte gold foil wrapped butter pats, chewing on them willy nilly. (Courtesy of Curly Fry, of course. He is such a little helper and he adores his baby "Nena.")

What is it going to be like when they BOTH walk and climb? I'm toast, folks.

While I'm at it...

While I'm at it, I'll just add a small thought about the idea that gay marriage is a civil right.
70% of African Americans in California voted for Prop 8. Umm...I think if this were a civil rights issue, the black people would be the first ones to know about it.

Side note: Mormons make up less than 5% of the voting populace in California. Can you imagine the gay community attacking blacks?! How would that play out in the media?
Once again, Mormons are an easy target. Cheap shot.