Thursday, November 25, 2010

Don't Need Anything

Dear Nathan,
We had your first Thanksgiving today at Uncle Brian and Aunt Kim's.  You had fun just running around, doing your Nathan thing.

Mama made the mistake of putting gravy on your "masha-tatoes".  This caused a slight meltdown (did I mention you didn't nap today?) and you were insistent that I get you "different masha-tatoes".  You were so miffed, you even climbed off your stool and started for the front door to go get "different masha-tatoes".  Your determination is inspiring, Son.

We resolved the Great "Masha-tatoes" Incident of 2010 and you thoroughly enjoyed the rest of your day.

I think this was your first introduction to "pie", which may be one of the most beautiful words in the English language.  You were quite impressed and I so enjoyed watching you delight in your pie.  Don't worry.  There's more were those came from.

You've changed every thing in my life and I couldn't be more grateful.  As I type this, you're snuggled up next to me on my bed, sleeping soundly.  I'm so happy to be your Mama, Little Man.  I have loved to learn about the world all over again through your eyes these last 10 months.

I've been working on making a book for you and your friends from the O, outlining all the things that happened to get you home.  I've been putting it off, but I figured I'd better get it off to the publishers before Christmas.  Now that you're home, it's so easy for me to forget what we went through to get you onto this soil.  Working on this book this weekend has been a good reminder of all I have to be grateful for.

My thoughts today are also turned to our friends still in Haiti.  The ones who didn't get to come to a place with pie and beds and Mamas.  As I've been assembling this book, I'm looking at the pictures from the news articles we've gathered about the earthquake, and I marvel that anyone is still surviving in that country.  The destruction is horrifying and I'd bet if I were to go there right now circumstances would not be much different than they were 10 months ago.

I'm thinking about Harry today, and how dependent he is on us to get that new orphanage built.  Mama needs to get going on fundraising as Bel Haiti's reserves are pretty drained and Harry still needs money to survive.  We also still need funds to build the new facility.  (They're working on the excavation for the wall right now - but since it's a wall around all 8 acres, that's quite a project.)

We're so blessed, Sweetheart.  We had so many years waiting for you to come into our lives and now you're finally here.  We can give back to help those that still have cause to mourn.

We don't need anything that we don't have, you and I.  We have a house and heat and electricity and water and beds and sewage and roads that are maintained and mail delivery and grocery stores and income and opportunity.  We have pie.  We have hope.  We have a bright future.

And really, that means we have it all.

I love you,

Monday, November 22, 2010

Movie Critic

Dear Nathan,
I am snuggled up next to you right now, watching "Monsters, Inc".  Every time one of the "bad guys" comes on the screen, you say, "Mama, it's a bad guy?"

I say, "Yes, it is."

And then you say, "That not very nice.  He not listen to his mother.  He need timeout."

And I agree with you wholeheartedly.  Bad guys don't listen to their mommies.  And they do need timeout.

Then the scene changes and you can see the next bad guy and you ask the question again.  It's adorable and I want to squeeze your cheeks.

You're also eating Cheerios out of the bag because you realized, when you saw Boo eating cereal, that we had some just like it and you had to get them.  You call them "Cereals", which is pretty much what "Cheerios" sounds like.

You just put one in my mouth and said, "Want one, Mama?  You're welcome."

Thank you for trying to listen to your mother.  And thank you for making me a mommy.

I love you, Little Man.

Sunday, November 21, 2010


Dear Nate,
One day this last week, Mama didn't get out the door to work until you and Daddy were leaving.  You walked out the garage door with Daddy.  I heard the door close as I gathered my bags.  Then I heard the garage door open again.

When I looked up, there was your sweet face poking around the door.  You said, "Hey, Mama... jew wanna go wit me?", inviting me to come with you today and to play with you.

You sweet, sweet boy.  There's nothing Mama would like more than to play with you all day.  Sometimes things don't work out the way we want.  (If you've read this blog - A LOT OF TIMES things don't work out the way we want!)

I love to snuggle with you at night and in the morning.  Sometimes we talk about what animals you like and what color they are and where they live.  We play a game where I ask you what color something is and then you point at something (in the dark room) and ask Mama, "what color dat?" and Mama has to guess what you're pointing at and tell you what color it is.

You get your colors correct about 86.5% of the time now.  It's so fun to see you learning and comfortable with your new knowledge.

In Haiti, as soon as it was dark all the children were expected to go to sleep.  (I typed "go to bed" and then had to correct myself.  There were 68 children in that tiny little house and only 3 bunk beds.  I think you slept on the tile most of the time.  I don't think you'll ever remember, so I'll never know for sure what you went through.)

Anyway, the time has changed and it gets darker now.  The first time you realized that it was pretty much "nite-nite" when Mama picked you up from the sitter's, you were very concerned.

You said, "Mama, it nite-nite?"

And I said, 'It's nightTIME.  It's dark, isn't it?"

And you said, "Mama, Nathan not go nite-nite.  Nathan not.  Nathan NOT go nite-nite."

I tried not to laugh as I explained that it wasn't time for nite-nite, but the sun had gone to sleep.  It was, after all, only 5:30 and we still had to go home and eat and play and read books.

You were mollified.

And then Mama remembered what the nite-nite meant for you in Haiti.  I was grateful again that I'll be the one to tuck you in from now until.... well... until you no longer want your Mama to tuck you in.

Maybe we can put that off until you're 25 or so.... what do you think?

I love you, Sweetness.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Thoughts on Food

Dear Sweetness,
I love to watch you eat.

For the first 2+ years of your life, food was neither plentiful nor varied.  You had rice and beans and some chicken.  If you were lucky, you got it twice per day.  Most days you weren't that lucky.

You still eat with your hands quite often.  Mama doesn't push it because you're still so "young" in the "eating lots of things" department.  I love it when you get something all over your hands, and then you stretch back in satisfaction and smear food in your hair in the process.

You should have had more of those days.  You should have been born with those days.

Right now, your favorite foods are yogurt (preferably strawberry but definitely not blueberry) and "masha-tatoes".

Today I was giving you some "masha-tatoes" with all the fixings and you started to scoop some onto a plate that was next to you.  I was just about ready to ask you to quit playing with your food when I heard you say, "One for Mama..." and then you turned back to your "masha-tatoes", took another big scoop and said, "One for Nathan" and chomped on it.  What a sweet boy to think of sharing your favorite food.

You're still growing.  The other night you woke up at about 11 PM and were crying that you wanted food.  You were quite insistent, so I finally got up and nuked a frozen waffle for you.  You ended up eating three, there in the middle of the night.  Apparently dinner doesn't hold you over anymore.

I'm so grateful you're home and warm and fed and growing and happy.

I love you, Sweetness.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

And You're Only Three...

My dearest Nathan,
The other night, I picked you up from daycare.  In the car on the way home, I asked you how your day was.

From the backseat, I heard, "Mama... Stop talking."

I said, "Nathan, we don't talk to Mama like that.  Do you need a time-out?"

And you said?

"Mama... Nathan already IN the car seat" (in this tone of voice like, "what else are you going to do to me, woman??")

I have to keep reminding myself that you're only three.  That means I'm in much, much bigger trouble down the road when you're, say... thirteen.

I also have to remind myself that it is that spunky spirit, that "100% feisty Haitian" attitude, that kept you alive in the orphanage.  That determination, that fight.... that is what got you through that hell so that I could bring you home.

I'm so grateful you're a fighter, Sweetness.

I love you,

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Make a Comment and Haitian Roots Gets $2!

This is a fabulous opportunity to raise money for our sister-organization.  Bel Haiti is working with Haitian Roots to build the Children's Village described in this article.

Please take a moment, go to the link, read the article and make a comment.  Make two comments if you have more than one valid email address.

Every dollar helps and we're so grateful to for giving Haitian Roots this opportunity!


Dear Friends of Haitian Roots,

A wonderful, non-profit organization called Six Seeds has made a very generous offer to help Haitian Roots.  Six Seeds is dedicated to helping people and organizations do good things!  They are featuring an article about Haitian Roots on their website and they will donate $2 to us for every comment left after the article!  Each comment has to have a unique email address, but if you have more than one address, you can even comment more than once.  Please take just a moment of your time to go to this article and leave us a comment by clicking here:

To learn more about Six Seeds, click here:

Thanks so much!


The Haitian Roots Team

P.S.  Please pass this along to friends and family, post it to your facebook page, or onto your blog!  Thanks!

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Of Course You Are

Dear Nate,
We had a nice afternoon today for Nov 2nd.  After dinner tonight we went outside so you could ride your trike.

You started making strange faces and movements with your hands.

I said, 'What are you doing, Nate?"

You told me you were a dragon riding a bike.

Of course you are.  How did I miss that?  Your delivery was perfect and I could really feel the anguish of the dragon, trying to steer but yearning to fly.

Or something.

I love you,