It's not a destination, it's a journey

She let me drive her car when I was around 13 or 14 years old. We were in her burgundy Oldsmobile that my uncle had helped her purchase after her 1970s Mercedes diesel became too unreliable for an older woman to be driving long distances. We were on a dirt road, or maybe there wasn't even a road, maybe it was just a grassy field. We had gone down the road from her hilltop house in Blairsville, Ga to either visit one of her friends or to pick some wild blackberries or to retrieve one of the many dogs that she cared for in her years. I can't recall the exact reason, but it was just the two of us. I remember having never been behind the wheel of a car as I was a couple of years away from my permit. I only drove a short distance, but that first time you push the pedal and are in the driver's seat is a moment you don't forget, and I shared that moment with her.

Grandma and I in Ormond Beach at the "Florida House"

My grandma is 94 years old and she is, and always has been, a source of great love and warmth and comfort to me. From my first memories as a child, I can remember her regular visits to our house or going to see her and being so excited and joyful to get to spend time with her. The sound of that Mercedes diesel coming down the road was music to my hears (even our yellow lab, Sugar, knew the sound and would start whimpering and wagging her tail frantically, looking for a stick to pick up to greet Grandma.)

She was a child of The Great Depression. Born in Atlanta in 1920. Her father died when she was young and her mom taught school and raised the three children on her own. Grandma had two older brothers, one of whom had developed an addiction to morphine after it was prescribed to him and died at a young age from an overdose. *Edit to add: We recently learned that his cause of death was suicide from cyanide poisoning. My grandma remembers he had hemophilia and once we were in process to adopt a boy with hemophilia, this peaked my interest. I found his death certificate online and saw the sad truth about the end of his life. He most likely lived with a great deal of pain from joint bleeds and may have chose to end his own life because of the pain (for which there was no medical remedy, or because he was indeed addicted to morphine... that he took for his pain.) Either way, a very sad truth. He was in his early 20s when he died.

 

note: Grandma still has this couch and end table in her house

She didn't grow up with a lot. Even though for many years of her life when she was married to my grandfather, who was a surgeon, she didn't want for anything, she always kept her “not let anything go to waste” mindset. So after my grandfather died, she has lived on his social security payments and interest from the bank and made EVERY penny count. That is another trait I remember well. She split her pieces of Wrigley's Doublemint gum in half to make the pack last longer, she ate leftovers often... very often, she could squeeze the last ounce of toothpaste from the tube like no one else, she wore clothes until they wore out, she washed out Ziploc bags and reused them as well as red solo cups, and we all remember the story of when my uncle put too much ketchup on his plate at dinner and she made him eat it all even when there was nothing left to dip in it. She never threw food out. If it was just picked over scraps, she would at least give it to the dog(s).

She has been on her own since 1974 when my grandfather, who died before I was born, passed away in his sleep from a heart attack on a February night. She had 11 grandchildren among her four kids and she made a point to be as involved as possible with us. I cherish all the memories I have with her... from the many trips to the Ormond beach “Florida House”, as we affectionately referred to it, to all the Christmas and Thanksgiving gatherings she hosted to playing cards to watching the Golden Girls or just talking with her. 

yes, that's me with the stink face

She showed me, and I'm sure all her grandkids, an unconditional love that I can still feel to this day. She isn't a flashy person but she always looks her best, she's not demanding but she seems to get her way, she's not overbearing but she's tough in spirit. She has lived her life with grace and, more than anything, she has quietly and unassumingly showed other's God's love through her words and actions.

I loved playing Memory with her. Note: my mom still has this exact game at her house.

Almost 5 years ago, I put together a video montage of all the pictures I could find of her through her, at the time, 90 years of life. It was a labor of love. As I spent many hours scanning in old photos, it hit me how there really are seasons of life. At the time, as a 33 year old, I had never really thought of it in that way. But seeing her as a young woman just married when she was 19 and then as each of her four children were born... and as her children grew...and she and my grandfather enjoyed time with family friends, many of whom she remained friends with until they passed away years ago... and then to her life as I knew her after she lost her husband of 35 years, it hit me that life really is a journey. There is no destination, only the journey. So, for goodness sake, we have to make the best of it... and to think that we are only on this earth for a blink of an eye in relation to eternity. To look back at those 90+ years and think that's only a glint in God's eye is kind of incomprehensible to me.

In making that video, I realized that my grandma had lived this whole other life before I knew her (as a kid I always thought she was 68, she was never younger and would never grow older.) And I started to think about how my life, at this point in time, will seem like a foreign world to my future grandkids. I'm sure she made mistakes along the way. I'm sure had has said things or done things that, looking back on it, she would have changed. But I don't believe she lives with regret. Not much point in that. She has faced difficulties with relationships in her life and I know she wishes things were different in some aspects. She has, what some would say, reason to be unhappy or resentful or angry or sad. But I never saw any of those emotions in her, or at least not for long.

One of the biggest things I learned from my Grandma is that your attitude makes all the difference. She could have been resentful, she could felt sorry for herself, she could have held grudges... but she didn't. And during those difficult circumstances that she encountered along her way, she just “put it in the Lord's hands” and trusted in Him and always asked for “His will to be done.” She took great comfort in her relationship with Jesus. To her, He was a close friend, a compass in her life whom she could always rely on and whom she tried to follow. Above all else, she would talk about God's love, and how we are to treat people kindly and love EVERYONE, even those who may hurt us or whom may not accept our love. She grew up and lived in an era and a part of the country where racism and prejudice were common, yet she didn't have those beliefs even though I know some of her friends and family did. She was always careful not to make derogatory remarks about others. She always saw the glass as half full. She made lemonade out of lemons. Even when her beautiful view of the north Georgia mountains out her back porch was altered by an RV park that popped up down the hill from her, she just decided that she'd look to the heavens instead of straight out. When she was 80 years old she was pruning her forsythia one morning and slipped on the dew-soaked grass and broke her ankle very badly. She pulled herself across the yard, up the back porch steps, inside and called her son BUT before he or the ambulance got there, she drug herself to the bedroom and got clean pants out of her closet so she wouldn't be messy when they arrived. Always look your best!
 When she was 85 she had hip replacement surgery which was a great decision because she had been in pain for years. And considering it's been over 10 years, I'd say she had a good return on her investment. But for an 85 year old to have such a major surgery and recover like she did is quite the accomplishment. A couple of weeks after coming home from the surgery, she was on her back porch swing to cut her toenails. She pulled her knee up too far, past the angle they told her she could and her hip popped out of joint and she was unable to move. She couldn't walk and was in a lot of pain. She hollered out (because that's what you do in the south) for someone to help. But her secluded and quiet mountain home was not a blessing that day. She called out for hours and eventually someone down in that RV park heard her and came to help. She learned from her experience, but still wanted to live on her own and has until very recently. 

She is not and never has been afraid of death. She's ready, whenever the Lord takes her. But, like she's said in her old age, she still feels good and would like to stick around a bit longer, Lord willing. Guess He agrees because she's still puttin' around, folks.

My grandma has an inner peace that makes others love her and want to be around her. And it's no secret that she gained that peace from her relationship with God. She isn't perfect, and she knows this. But she also knows that God loves her anyway, just as He does you and me. And her gift to the world around her was her kindness, her friendship, her devotion, and her love towards others.

One summer in my middle school years, I spent a week with her and went to vacation bible school at her little Baptist church in the mountains. The people up there were so nice and welcoming and humble; I know she always enjoyed living up there. My vacation bible school class that summer consisted of myself, my cousin Dana who was my age, and I think one other girl. Our leader was an elderly gentleman (probably in his 50s, but he seemed older to me at the time). I guess he was the only who volunteered to teach the middle school girls. At the end of the week, each class was to sing a song in front of the church. We were the oldest group and all the other groups had many more kids, you know, cute little kids. When I heard we were going to have to get up in front of the congregation and sing on Friday evening... I was terrified. I HATE speaking in front of people, and was terribly shy as a child. And then the day before, the other girl that was in our group backed out (which was smart) so it was just going to be me, my cousin, and our leader up there singing. Well, I decided that there was no way I was going to do this. Unh-uh, NO WAY. First of all, I couldn't carry a tune in the shower and there wasn't going to be enough other voices to drown me out, and secondly, EVERYONE in church would be looking at us... while we were singing no less! The song was “His Name is Wonderful.” See, I still remember it because I was so traumatized. We had practiced singing it a little the day before but I came home and was upset and told my grandma that I didn't want to do it. I was too nervous and was feeling ill about it. She listened to my concerns. She comforted me. And then she gently told me not to do it for myself, or the people in the church, or my group leader, or for her, but to do it for God. To sing the song to Him because it would make Him happy and would show other's His love... and that if I prayed to Him and asked for peace and courage, then everything would be alright. Somehow she knew what to say and believed in what she was saying enough to make me believe it. That evening two middle school girls and a gray-haired man stood up in front of the church and sang an old hymn. I was still nervous, but I didn't faint, which was a real possibility. And as we finished the song, every face in the congregation was smiling and we could feel the love in the room. And so I pushed my fear down that day and I sang for Him... but really I also sang for her.

I know my grandma wanted others to know Him like she did. But, at least to me, she was never overbearing about it. It was just the way she lived and the way she treated people. In her 70s, and even into her 80s, she used to visit elderly people who were homebound or go to the local assisted living facility in town (which is where she would always tell us she would go when she couldn't live alone anymore... none of us thought that would happen, but we humored her.) She talked to people, she made them feel important and cared for. She has had many friends throughout the years. She loves to laugh. Another favorite trait of mine is how she can turn red with laughter and have tears coming down her checks from the humor of something. I have cherished memories of hanging out with my grandma and her friend, Anne Sheppard, when they were in their 70s and we were on a trip to Florida. I believe it was spring break, and my brother and I wanted to go to the beach, so my mom thought it'd be a great idea for Grandma and Anne to take us. I was 15 or 16. Those ladies were a hoot together. They so much enjoyed each other's company. Anne and my grandma had been friends for about 50 years. Anne had lost her first husband, and her second husband, so the two widows along with two other friends who were also widows (they likened themselves to the Golden Girls, my grandma was Rose and Anne was Blanche), would take trips to Florida and get together on a regular basis. Grandma and Anne kept in close contact until Anne passed away several years ago. On that spring break, we played rummy every night and listened to Grandma and Anne tell old stories and just cry from laughing so hard.

Anne is on the far left

She is a woman with manners, she is humble, she is kind, and she can sing a wonderful version of “Jesus Loves Me.” She takes care of herself, and has always been active, but was never an exerciser. I would describe her as striving to be productive and useful at all times. She adamantly believed in drinking 8 glasses of water a day, getting outside for a daily walk and taking as little medication as possible.

She was at my parent's house when Fred first met my family, she was at the hospital when my first-born arrived... she's always been like my special treat, icing on the cake of life to me. I guess that's what grandmothers want to be like, right? Grandkids are the apple of your eye, whatever that means... well, she always made me feel special. 

The past several months I've gotten emotional when I think of my grandma, and I'm not sure why. She's still doing great, all things considered. I mean, she's 94 years old for pete's sake. Her mind is giving out on her and she has a lot of trouble with short term memory as well as remembering things in general. Isn't it funny? You go through this life making all of these memories, good and bad and near the end, they aren't with you. You are constantly in the present and even though you may have a feeling in the back of your mind that there is something you should remember, you can't begin to know what it is. But is my grandma sad? Is she bitter? Is she depressed? No. No, she's drinking her lemonade and enjoying it. And now she has 17 great-grandkids and even though she can't remember their names or sometimes even if their her great-grandchildren, she does have moments of clarity. And the other day she looked at Joshua and asked his name and after I told her, she said, "and now you adopted him, right?" (So she's with it enough to realize one of these things is not like the others;)) And she shared her support and told me how great she thought it was last year after we adopted Sam. Little does she know that she was a big part of my faith journey.

And I know many of you who are reading this may not know my grandma. And really I'm writing this for myself. It's something that I've felt I wanted to do for a while. And while you may not ever meet her, I'm gonna bet that'd you'd like her. I just feel so lucky and thankful that she is my grandma and that all my kids know her and will remember her. I respect and admire her more than I than she knows, and probably more than she thinks she deserves.

taken last month

So my take away from Grandma?.. above all else love others, don't go around in pity for yourself, don't hold grudges, always forgive, treat others with kindness, and finally... you have to decide to be happy, it's not something you can find, it's not a destination.

What kind of boy would he be?

Well hello, my blog, been a while. Seems many of my posts start like that... hmmmm. You see I have this blog in my head that won't come out. I think of really profound things randomly, and I intend to sit down and write this blog, but well, then I think of a million other things that actually NEED to be done. And by the end of the day, I zone out watching a mindless show. But this morning (now afternoon) is important, this morning (now afternoon) is special... today marks exactly 3 months since we got Joshua in our arms. Wait... what?!? 3 MONTHS?? THAT'S IT?? I've said this before, like many other adoptive parents and ALL parents for that matter have said, the time seems to fly. Or maybe it's not that time is flying, but that the bonding process with your child is so all consuming. That every second of every day your heart is leading your mind to become connected to this child for life, to truly feel like this child is YOUR child, even though they may not have your genes... and you may never know what they looked like when they made their entrance into this world... and you may never know what they looked like when they were 3 months old, or 6 months old, or a year old. You won't be able to tell them where they where they took their first steps or what cute things they said when they were learning to talk, or how they got that scar on their forehead. And you won't be able to tell them what kind of personality traits or health conditions run in the family. While all of those things would be nice to know, they really don't matter so much. Because what I can tell him is that he is loved, more than he can even imagine. Do you love your own biological child before you know them? Before they are even born?  Or even conceived? Is there a deep, subtle love that has always been there? I think so. And I feel the same way about Sam and Joshua. I loved them since they were born, even though I didn't know them, nor even know that we would adopt them into our family. And I know that their birth parents have loved them like this and love them to this day. Somewhere in China their is a mom and a dad that quietly remember their birthdays, and I'm sure they aren't the same days that we celebrate. These parents will never know what happened to their sons. To give them a chance at life, they had to give them up. That is a love that is hard for us to wrap our heads around, but that's another blog....

The other day I read somewhere that when a child is 2-3 years old it is a vital time in their development to feel love and be nurtured by someone in a parental role. It has been proven how important those first 3 years of life are and even as infants, children have a biological NEED to feel loved. I was thinking of Joshua and how he doesn't remember his birth parents since he was abandoned at less than a year old. And so most of those first 3 years of his life he spent in the orphanage. I'm thankful that at least he felt his parent's love for almost his first year of life (maybe he was a year old, since it was an estimate that he was 10 months old when found.) But then what? What did he feel when he was growing up in the orphanage? Did he feel love? Did he feel safe? And then I wondered, would he be a different boy if he had never left his birth family? Surely he would. I have to assume that there are parts of his personality and behavior that have been profoundly affected by his life up to this point and by the fact that he lost his family and spent those years in an institutional setting instead of a home. There were critical years that we can't go back and change. And although I'm sure a good deal of his personality is God-given (as I see in my other kids whom I've known since their first heartbeat), I wonder how would he be different? Would he be as guarded with his emotions? Would he be as stubborn? Would he be as quiet around others? Would he still only want to sleep in a bed by himself? Would he still be so grumpy and agitated when he wakes up from a car nap? Would he still act overly dramatic when he gets a boo-boo? Would he be so protective over his belongs and his space? Would he love technology? Would he be gifted at sports, particularly anything with invloving a ball? Would he love Spiderman? Would he be a mama's boy? Would he pick favorites of his siblings, subject to change any given day? Would he be so open to learning and experiencing new things? Would he laugh at his brother's potty humor? Would he be resistant to affection at times? Would he feel comfortable in his own skin? Does he feel comfortable in his own skin??

I don't know exactly how his life experiences have affected him. I think some kids are more affected by their circumstances than others, and of course circumstances are different. As I look back on these past three months, I'm in awe of this boy. He has taken to our family like a bee to honey. He loves his siblings, and is slowly able to accept their affections and return affection (although we are still working on that.) He loves his grandparents and cousins and thoroughly enjoys himself at family gatherings and get togethers with friends. The changes I've noticed are that we have much less resistance and stubborn fits of yelling than we did during the first month home. He will still let us know when he doesn't want to do something, but generally he is more compliant with us and goes along even if he has a scowl on his face. He is feeling more secure with us and his role in the family, and I'm really amazed at how quickly it happened. To be honest we really haven't had any of the major issues that could have come up. He doesn't have any food issues or signs of abuse or acts of aggression. Although it is ALWAYS good to be very prepared for those issues and others when adopting an older child. I guess God just knows what we can handle and what we can't:)

Joshua is an absolute blessing, like all children. He's happy, he loves life, he's smart, he's responsible, he's observant, he's opinionated, he's athletic, he's driven, he's friendly, and he REALLY knows how to smile for a picture:)

He's doing great in school and is progressing slowly but surely with his language skills. He definitely understands pretty much all that we tell him. He will probably need some speech therapy to work out some issues that he also had in China, but we are taking it day by day. I still can't believe how well he's done in Kindergarten! He can write his name (very well) and is recognizing the letters in his name. His teacher says he's always positive and smiling and willing to try what she asks of him. Can't ask for more than that! 

He gets a blood transfusion once every 4 weeks and that has gone very smoothly. He is on special medication to reduce the iron concentration in his body and organs, and we are having to work out some slight complications with that, but I'm very grateful for our hematologist who is the head of the Thalassemia center hear in Atlanta. He is in great hands and I'm hopeful we will see his iron levels start to decrease soon. His Thal doesn't really affect him too much on a daily basis. He has energy to play and eats like a champ. Sometimes he gets headaches and he does fall asleep on the bus or in the car, but his mind is working so hard every day, so much new information to take in... I'd fall asleep too! 

Every day I wake up feeling very blessed. These five kids are the loves of my life... lucky doesn't begin to describe it. 

I only hope that I can teach them what's really important in life and to not sweat the small stuff because in the end, most of it is small stuff. I want them to take chances, to step out on a limb, to listen to a God-given desire do something they never thought they would. But mostly I would love from them to be kind to others. To think of not only themselves, to be generous and to love unconditionally. That's all... no biggie, right?

Parenting them is a privilege and responsibility.

 

I saw this quote that I loved: 

“I don't want to drive up to the pearly gates in a shiny sports car, wearing beautifully, tailored clothes, my hair expertly coiffed, and with long, perfectly manicured fingernails.
I want to drive up in a station wagon that has mud on the wheels from taking kids to scout camp.
I want to be there with a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbors children.
I want to be there with a little dirt under my fingernails from helping to weed someone's garden.
I want to be there with children's sticky kisses on my cheeks and the tears of a friend on my shoulder.
I want the Lord to know I was really here and that I really lived.” 
― Marjorie Pay Hinckley

Now I'm certainly not going to pretend that I'm on that righteous path, but I want to be, it's something to strive for. It's so easy to get caught up in our own lives, even if we think we are "busy." We're as busy as we want to be. If you have the opportunity to help others or do something bigger than yourself, go for it. Even if you don't know how you'll do it. It doesn't have to be a big thing, the every day acts of kindness are so important and we should do them not out of guilt because we "should" help others, I hope I can instill in my children the desire to think of others. Not only to think of others but to act on that desire. Sheesh, now I'm really feeling pressure... okay, if they at least don't end up in jail or on the streets, then I'm gonna pat myself on the back. 

Right now we're in the mode of dropping off, picking up, soccer practices, music lessons, swim lessons, school projects, state testing, school involvement, etc.... not to mention playing outside with friends and teaching them how to throw a football and catch a baseball (we ARE Americans, you know.)

Did I ever picture myself with 5 kids, ummmm.... no. But I'm glad I'm not in charge. 

And not to say we live a storybook life with no arguments or family unrest or unresolved issues... how boring would that be?? Well, sounds kinda nice actually. But when we hit those rough patches, and sometimes they can get REALLY choppy, I have to turn to my faith. That's it. I give it to God because that's what He wants us to do. We aren't expected to be able to "handle" everything that comes along in this life. And deep down, I know everything will be alright. Truly, it's gonna be alright... I'm not just saying that:) 

So it's been an unprecedented year for the Dri Family. October 14th marks one year since we got Sam. I still have to double-check myself when I tell people we've adopted TWO boys in a year. And to think this is only the beginning of their lives with us. I can't even imagine the joy and heartbreak, the adventures and disasters, the accomplishments and disappointments that await us in the future.... but BRING IT ON!

40 days

Wow, talk about neglecting a blog... well, if something had to be neglected around here, better this blog than one of the kids, am I right?? It's been 40 days since we got Joshua. 
Okay, yes, we've been busy.... why do I have time now you ask? It's August 8th... the 2nd day of school for the big kids. Just me and Sam around the house now. And although I should be mopping the dirty floors (which have also been neglected this summer), I'm out of commission at the moment... mommy down, mommy down!
Yep, of course, on the day I was looking forward to getting a bunch of stuff done, my back goes out and I can barley walk :::cue sad violin:::  It's frustrating, but at least it's making me sit down and write (although this is not that comfortable either... yes, please join me in my pity party.)

Okay, so updates, updates... people want to know how it's going... how's Joshua doing? How's Sam doing with Joshua? What about the other kids? How's life being a family of 7?  And I tell them it's going remarkably well (this is ACTUALLY true.) I'm not saying we haven't had some moments. Joshua waiting until about 5 days after being home before he started showing some "attitude"... pouting when he doesn't get what he wants, being stubborn about apologizing or listening to me, running to his room when I'm trying to talk to him (let me tell you how fun it is to try to discipline your child through iTranslate... um, not so much.) But, really, if he hadn't shown some of these typical childish behaviors, I would have started to think he was a robot. His behaviors are no more extreme than any other child, adopted or not. Most of the time he is very compliant and happy and goes with the flow. Sometimes he doesn't want to get buckled in his seat, sometimes he gives me an attitude when I tell him he can't play on the computer or iPad (he's definitely a techie, so we've limited that.) Again, the behaviors we've seen are pretty darn typical. He can be stubborn when he feels like things haven't gone his way... especially after pouting or whining for something and then I don't give in (Mama don't play that game.) But we've worked through these moments, it's hard when I know he can't understand all the words I'm saying to him. But each time, I tell him we still love him very much. We will always love him, even when he doesn't listen to us. I think that's something he's not heard much in his life. He's got a bit of a tough shell I'd say. He will accept affection, especially in a playful way, and he is more and more comfortable with parental affection. He loves for me to sing "You Are My Sunshine" to him each night before bed. He nods when I tell him I love him. He lets me give him lots of kisses. Slowly, I think he is feeling truly loved, unconditionally. 
One thing I mentioned to people is that his orphanage was a good one, relatively speaking. They really did a great job of preparing him for adoption and for life in general. He's got great self-care skills and always asks me for permission before doing something, which really surprised me, but I guess that makes sense. He is used to order and structure. 
There are many things I will remember from the orphanage visit, mostly all positive. But the one thing that hit me, was that there was no one there he was really sad to say goodbye to... there was no one really sad to say goodbye to him. It's like they all knew the drill, even the caregivers. They all seemed nice and caring, but there was not a particular nanny that showed any emotion because he was leaving. That is sad to me. A five year old boy, who had spent his whole life pretty much in that orphanage, and not one tear... from anyone. I can't imagine my other kids at the age of five leaving the only place they had ever known as home and not shedding one tear. Something is wrong with that. God made us for each other. Everyone should have a family, some kind of family.  
Well, he's fit right in our family. Sometimes I look at him and think about that video first saw of him, in his little yellow t-shirt. I think of how many times I watched that video and thought about this little boy a world away. And then I look over my shoulder and there he is... sitting next to me, his mama. And the magnitude of that overwhelms me. Adoption is a beautiful thing.

"Children born to another woman call me “Mom.” The magnitude of that tragedy and the depth of that privilege are not lost on me." Jody Landers

Another thing that has surprised me is how much more deeply Sam feels like ours now that Joshua is home. It's difficult to explain and I don't want to sound like Sam didn't seem like ours before we got Joshua, because he really did, from day one. It's like now that we are just getting to know Joshua and he is transitioning into our family, suddenly Sam seems like one of the original gang now... if that makes sense. 

It's like the quote by Bob Constantine... "I have four children. Two are adopted. I forget which two."  That's what it feels like now... just gotta change that quote to "five children."

I feel like I know Sam so much more deeply now. Every little nuance of his personality is familiar to me. When you have a newborn, you stare at them constantly... okay, I did. Maybe you didn't. But as you watch that child grow from a tiny infant to a chubby baby, to a toddler, and so on... you have years to get to know this child of yours. When you adopt a toddler or an older child, especially, they come with personality already in place. And this personality is made up of genetic dispositions which you know nothing about it, and it's also been shaped by their life circumstances, which you have limited knowledge of. And as I think about all of this, it's obvious to me, I have some tough boys. Kids are so resilient... we've all heard this, and it's true. God must have known what he was doing when he made them that way. Doesn't mean that they don't need help and patience and kindness, but most of all, more than anything, they need love. Not belongings, not an orderly environment, not a caring soul... they NEED love. And while love does not make things "easy", it is the necessity that will allow all of the other details to fall into place. 

This kid cracks me up

Dynamics at our house?... The kids all get along like brothers and sisters should. Sam is the resident two year old so he makes sure to get in his "annoying little brother" time each day... which seems to fall on Joshua right now. Probably because they are the closest in age. Joshua really looks up to Daniel and Daniel loves that because Sam is too independent and assertive to follow Daniel, or anyone for that matter. Ella and Daniel have their same love/hate relationship going on... their distinct personalities are both of the sensitive type. Shannon is her calm, easy-going self and has just started middle school, and her positive attitude continues to serve her well.  As for Joshua, he gets along with everyone most of the time, probably better with the older kids than his two year old brother, but that's typical. He and Sam play some, but not too much. They do like riding the Gator outside, but that can become a competition. We have our moments of harmony and discontent, as any family.

Been waiting for this line-up. 

I love this...

As for Joshua's medical stuff... He's already had his first blood transfusion here. It went swimmingly. He's a star patient, no doubt. He will go again for a check of his blood work this week to check his Hgb and his liver enzymes since he has just started a new medication which we hope will reduce the iron levels in his body. When you have many blood transfusions, iron builds up in your body, in your organs, so he is on an iron chelation medication that should rid his body of some of this excess iron. Besides the chronic anemia, iron overload is a major problem for kids with Thalassemia in Ch*na. He will continued to be monitored monthly and will have another transfusion in a couple of weeks, I believe. Other than taking his medication each day, his Thalassemia is really a nonissue on a daily basis. 




And while I was thinking that we would hold off on Kindergarten for him, we changed our minds! Once we saw how well he was doing and how much he could already do, we felt he would do well in the classroom and would enjoy it. And the language barrier is still our biggest issue, so the more exposure he can have, the better. He will be getting ESOL services at school and I think he will need speech services in the near future. He was so excited to get on the bus and his big bro watched over him. 

While it felt a little strange putting my son who speaks little no English and understands a limited amount on a public school bus crowded with other kids he doesn't know that will be taking him a building he's been inside once before to be in a teacher's class he spent 20 minutes in the day before, I just trusted my gut and trusted that God would watch over him.... big smile, lot of excitement, briefing to the bus driver that he doesn't understand you (especially with the heave southern accent), wave bye-bye, and he was off to his first day of Kindergarten. 

I'm glad to report that he came home happy and was willing to get back on the bus again this morning with no problem! This kid amazes me.

What he drew on the first day of Kindergarten...
no I'm not sure what/who it is:)

Okay, I'm about tapped out for now... I'm sure I had other thoughts I wanted to get down, but I can't recall them at the moment. I'll try my best not to procrastinate next time... no, never mind,  I can't make any promises.

Oh!... one other thing... I feel "DONE"!! Yes, I feel like our family is complete. It's a great feeling:) We're all where we're supposed to be. Thank you, God, for all our blessings. Amen.

Globetrotters: Hong Kong

It's Thursday July, 10th and we are in Hong Kong for the day. We got in last night on the train from Guangzhou. That went very smoothly and I would recommend it to anyone travel for adoption (or otherwise!)  No need to pay out the ying-yang for a van service. 

We are back at the JW Marriott here and they have treated us so well:) The manager upgraded us to a suite with an amazing view. Fred has status with Marriott, but they have really gone above and beyond. They know we are on an adoption trip and have been very kind and generous to us.

We are soooo excited to go home tomorrow. This trip has gone amazingly well, but it we all can't wait to see Daniel and Sam. 

Joshua is still doing really well. He has definitely taken to me, but will also go to Baba, but prefers me:) He always seeks my hand out to hold as we make our way through the streets or train station. He's Mama's boy... and I love it. He calls me "Ma", like he's from Brooklyn or something. It's so cute.

I guess the language barrier is the biggest obstacle right now, but we seem to be in tune with each other and I can sense what he wants or needs. I wish I knew exactly what he is saying when he shares something exciting with me, but I get the gist. That is a small inconvenience in the big picture. We sat near a lady from Hong Kong on the street car today and she seemed surprised (like MANY other people) when we told her we had just adopted him. She said, "Well, he is very lucky... lucky boy."  Maybe.... and of course, I tell people that WE are the lucky ones... but really I have never thought of it as "luck." I know that God has had a plan all along. That He puts desires in our hearts according to His plan. I know that I am very blessed, and I don't know why. I don't know why so many children and families in this world have to endure such hardships and tragedies and painful decisions in their lives. But I believe that God can work miracles, and he can heal wounds that we cannot even begin to imagine. I get overwhelmed at the thought of how "lucky" I am to be a mom to my amazing kids... all of them. It is my greatest joy.

We went to Shamian Island before we left Guangzhou yesterday. It used to be owned by the French and British and has architecture from those countries and is a historical district now with shops, restaurants, a school, and a church. 

Bye, Bye China... Hello, Hong Kong

Hong Kong is a very cool city, very international. We took the street car from our hotel area, which is full of banks, businesses, and high-end shopping down to the more traditional, Asian area of Hong Kong. Less than a 10 minute ride we went from Prada, Tiffany, Cartier, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Burberry, Armani, you name it, it's there... down to places like this...

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Notice the gold sign... hmmmmm

Apple Store

We also took the ferry across the harbour 

This tree in the window is made from thousands of number #2 pencils (I think it was a women's clothing store)

We are resting in the hotel now and will head to The Peak soon to take in the view and have dinner. To bed early and getting up EARLY to catch our flight HOME!!!!  

For those who can come to the airport, our flight gets into Atlanta around 3:30pm on Friday. It's Delta 296 from Norita (Tokyo.) 

My next blog post should be from home sweet home!