Letter To Our Son

Malot,
I'm sitting on the plane from Miami to Denver and trying to doze where I can. I'm not sure what I'm dreaming about exactly, but I know that I hear your little voice say, "Wi, Momma!" over and over again.

I'm sure this morning was as hard for you as it was for us. I wonder how the rest of your day turned out for you. I hate that we don't speak Creole and can't explain to you what is going on. It wouldn't have made leaving much easier, but it would have been nice to be able to tell you myself that we will come back for you. Given what I saw this week, I can only imagine the fit you threw when you figured out that the machin Momma and Poppa were in didn't go to the same place your machin went. Momma did a lot of crying as well, if it makes you feel any better.

Poppa and I are so glad that we were able to come to Haiti and meet you this week. I wonder what you'll remember of this trip by the time we are finally able to bring you home. Will this all seem like a dream to you in a month? I hope it was a good dream. All the food you wanted. All the hugs and kisses you could stand. A momma and poppa to love you and hang on your every word and facial expression. And did I mention the food? I would not have guessed that a such a tiny little boy could eat so much or so often. I think you gained a few pounds this week and I'm so pleased.

I wish that this process didn't take so long. It's horribly hard on all of us to wait on governments to process paperwork so that your adoption will be able to be final. I met a man on the plane to Miami who had come to America from Trinidad. He said he was amazed that "there seems to be a paper for everything in America" or something like that.

I thought you did very well this week, Bebe. You met two strange adults and were able to deal with the changes we brought into your life and your routine as we took you out of the orphanage and took you to our hotel to stay for a week. It must seem like a dream to you. It's so sad to me to see what happens in your orphanage all day long. You must get so bored. I'm so grateful that Momma Nadia has given you a home and that she feeds you but there's so much more that you need. There's so little to do when you live in an orphanage, particularly a new orphanage like yours. Momma Nadia is trying to get things established as quickly as possible but some miracles take time. She has so much she wants to be able to do for you and for Haiti. Someday there will be a bigger facility with room to play and things to do and learn. Nichole and Harry are going to see if they can help us hire a teacher to come to the orphanage and give you school classes. Wouldn't that be fun if you could start to learn about numbers and colors and letters? If we're forced to spend time apart, it would be nice to have at least a portion of that time used productively for you.

Momma needs to figure out a way to get Creole to stick in her head. There were so much frustration for you this week because Momma doesn't know how to help you understand sometimes.

In some ways it was a long week. You and your sister, Jessica, seemed intent on making sure that Poppa and Momma didn't sleep at all the last few nights. :) That's OK. Mommas need to be with their sons, even if it's 2 in the morning.

Momma read Tant Chris's blog today while she was waiting for the plane in Miami. She said that she and your kouzens are trying to learn some basic Creole phrases so that they'll be able to tell you how excited they are to meet you. It's not just Momma and Poppa that want you home.

We'll be thinking about you every day, Bebe. Momma et Poppa renmen ou anpil, Malot. Ou tre presie.

Momma

Can We Get These Children Again Next Time?

Malot's name will be Malot. His birthday will be changed so that he'll turn 3 this October, but I'm fairly positive he's 4-4 1/2 right now.

We're not exactly sure how old Jessica is simply because this whole thing happened so fast they didn't have time to get everything ready for us. We'll keep her first name, though.

I find that we still talk about the kids and our future in terms of 'ifs" and not "whens". We're still very guarded about the whole thing. The other family on our trip lost their daughter, Ellie, several weeks ago. You might remember reading about that. This was a major emotional roller coaster for both of us and both families came into the week only knowing for sure about one of the two children they ended up with by the end of the week. Michelle knew they wanted Destina and "a little girl around 1 year old" so she had to choose a little girl at the orphanage on Monday. (Also not an easy task, but Gracie will be perfect for their family. She did well!)

We found ourselves joking this morning about "How do we tell Nadia in Creole that 'We want these same kids the next time we come'?" It's hard to have to start over. It's been a rough year.

Hopefully we're on a more consistent path now.

Time will tell.

Haiti Is Like Costco... You Can't Leave With Just One Thing...

Looks like we'll be parents to a cute little girl named Jessica as well as a wonderful little boy named Malot.

It's unbelievable to watch Malot with Jessica. He spontaneously will decide to put lotion on her (which is a very necessary thing for them) and he just loves to rub her arms. He kisses her and loves on her and talks to her in a little "baby talk" voice. He seems to know when she needs help with something and he's just right there for her. She walks a bit, but is very unsteady. I turned around today to find Malot holding Jessica's hand to help her walk to Pappa today. He'd seen her try to stand up and wanted to make sure she could do it.

He also has been very understanding with her. As you would expect, he's been extra clingy to me since we brought Jessica with us on Thursday. He's constantly walking over and asking me to pick him up. He just lays his head on my shoulder and strokes my neck. But Friday morning, I was holding Malot and Brent was in the shower when Jessica started crying. I turned Malot and said (in plain old English), "Malot, can you jump off so I can hold Jessica?" and he said, "Wi" and slid off my lap and walked over to Jessica and patiently waited. I was so shocked (I'd been expecting a fight because he's been so clingy) that I knelt next to him and said, "Merci beaucoup" and he grinned so widely! He KNEW he was helping and he was excited about it.

We've had some "sibling jealousy".... I've been calling Malot, "Bebe" and I say it with this silly inflection. When I call him that way, he always answers with "Wi?" or this cute little "Huh?" Well, on Thursday evening, I was playing with Jessica and I called HER "bebe". Malot stomped his little foot and let me know in no uncertain terms that HE was my "bebe" and that I was not to call HER by HIS nickname. It's quite funny when you have no doubt what a little boy in saying to you in Creole. I apologized ("Regrete, Malot. Momma regrete."). He nodded. My apology was accepted and he was mollified. All was again right in his world.

Malot has some very emotional concerns regarding food. These things happen when you go without food. He carried a granola bar or two with him the whole week. He just needed to know it was there if he needed it. He's thrown some huge fits over the panic he gets when he's not sure what's going to happen for food. And he doesn't want you to hold his granola bars. That's HIS and he needs to keep them or HE needs to put them down. He doesn't want you to take them away from him and set them down for him. So with that in mind, it was interesting to see that he does share with Jessica quite readily. He's given her one of his granola bars several times. He just seems to really enjoy making sure she's happy.

The whole thing seems pretty surreal, but then there's not a lot that's "normal" about adopting from Haiti. Why should selecting children be any different? It was also exactly what we needed. Neither Brent nor I were sure what we wanted to do, but Malot knew what he wanted. He wanted "Malot et Jessica" to "vini" with Momma.

I think I'll actually look forward to that day sometime down the road when Malot is terribly frustrated with his sister getting into his things again and I can say, "I don't know what to tell you, son. YOU picked her...."

And a Little Child Shall Lead Them....

We found out when we arrived in Haiti that if we don't get two kids NOW then we will either slow down Malot's process by trying to add a child to our files when we find a 2nd child in the future or we have to pay all the dossier fees for translation and authentication again. We aren't prepared for two children this week - we only packed for Malot. So this has been on our minds since found out about it on Monday but we haven't known what we should do about it.

When we arrived in Haiti and met Malot, we got off to a pretty good start. He's got a warm personality and he was pretty willing to come with us. He followed us into the back bedroom where we were unpacking our suitcases with donations. Malot saw a can of formula and became so very excited! In Creole he said, "I'm taking this for Jessica!" With the help of one of the aunties that speaks a bit of English we asked him who Jessica was and he said that Jessica was his friend. He carried that formula around for the entire time we were at the orphanage. We asked the workers at the orphanage and no one knew who Jessica was. No Jessica here. They suggested that maybe we heard the name wrong.

Then when we got him to the hotel and showed him the toy cars (machin) that we brought for him, he set one aside and made a comment about Jessica. It appeared to us that he wanted to save this car for Jessica.

He's so cute when he says "Jessica". With his great accent it comes out like "dje-zee-ka".

When the coordinator returned from helping at the orphanage the next day she said that there WAS a Jessica there, but that she was only 18 months old. This Jessica also doesn't live at Malot's orphanage. She lives in another location owned and run by the same woman and so they brought her over today to have her photo taken so that our agency could begin the process of finding parents for her.

There was a fair amount of confusion about how Malot would have even met Jessica, let alone have interacted enough to say she was "his friend". She's visited the orphanage, but she doesn't live there and, well, there's a lot of mayhem in an orphanage. How he would have picked out this baby from some visits.... it didn't seem likely.

On Wednesday Nichole brought her computer to dinner and was showing us the pictures that she was able to take that day. Our friend's oldest daughter, Destina, had a great time pointing out the children that she knew in each picture. She'd point to them and say their name. (And apparently there are a few little spats in the orphanage because there are a couple of young girls that she didn't want to talk about.)

We tried to get Malot to do the same thing- name off his friends as we went through the pictures. He looked at them with interest, but he would only nod his head when he saw one of his friends.

Until we arrived at Jessica's picture.

That picture came up and Malot's face brightened and he said, "dje-zee-ka!" and pointed at this little girl. He said Jessica is his friend. And all the adults in the room looked at each other in wonder.

I got copies of the photos of the other children that we were interested in and that night, I sat down with Malot and asked him some very basic questions in my slaughtered Creole. I really had to see what my little boy was thinking and why he feels so strongly about this little girl.

I asked him if Momma loved him and he said, "wi" (which is so cute when he says it because it comes out "Ooowiii, Momma"). I asked him if Pappa loved him, and if he loved Pappa (all questions he answers with "yes".) I threw him a curve ball to see if he was listening and asked him if he loved Nerlange (and sorry, Nerlange... Malot doesn't love you). Then I asked him if Malot loved Jessica. "Ooowii, Momma! Malot et Jessica vini.." (Basically saying that he loved Jessica and that he and Jessica were coming with me.)

So we made the trek back to the orphanage today. We had to see what all the fuss was about. It was hard for Malot to go back there, being afraid that they would make him stay. It was hard for me to watch what he was going through knowing that Saturday morning when we leave will be so much worse.

They had a driver go pick Jessica up from the other orphanage and bring her to Malot's orphanage. He didn't react much to Jessica when we were there. He was tired and cranky and Jessica was screaming her head off. I mean SCREAMING for the entire time we were there. Inconsolable.

Somehow we felt like we'd give it a shot and bring her back to the hotel tonight and see how Malot does with her when he's out of the situation where he feels he has to hide from the workers that might make him stay or that he must fight with the other kids who want attention from HIS momma.

When we loaded up the tap-tap, Malot could see that Jessica was getting into the cab of the truck with Pappa and he was happy about it. I didn't catch all of his comment, but it pleased him.

When we got her back to our room, he went to her and started playing with her feet and talking to her sweetly. He kissed her cheeks and her hands, and tried to help her hold her bottle. Brent and I looked at each other and thought, "where is the busy little boy that we have had the rest of this week who doesn't initiate hugs and kisses?"

So needless to say, we're announcing that it's probably a girl and that we'll get more details after we get the full referral. Shes very aware of Brent and she shares everything she's eating with her fingers with him. It seems Brent's super fond of her as well and so far she's been fairly happy in his arms. Well see how it goes.

Malot, I wish I understood what you know about this little girl....

Sharing Is Caring

You don't waste food when you live in an orphanage. You don't know when you'll get more of it.

But it IS acceptable to pawn your cast-offs to someone else.

You can tell when the kids are getting full because they start giving away what's on their plate.

It also turns out that, truth be told, neither of the older kids on this trip like beans. They ate them the first day in their rice, but they've picked more and more out of their rice as the week has gone on. And the look they get when they find a nasty bean in their beans and rice is priceless.

It's amazing how having options gives you the ability to have opinions.

Now that the kids have played together more and are more familiar with us, Malot and Destina are playing together and talking to each other. It's adorable. Destina was pretty quiet at first but she chats up a storm with Malot.

Last night during dinner we were able to watch an interesting exchange. Both kids ended up with similar sippy cups (they like to be able to carry water with them).

I put some soda in Malot's cup and the rough English translation of what happened next is a bit like this.

"Destina, look. I have SODA in my cup."

(Destina's eyes get big. She didn't realize that the ingenious design of the sippy cup would carry other liquids besides water. The water is emptied from her cup and then she convinces her mom to help her pour the soda she has in the hotel's goblet into her sippy cup)

"Malot, I have soda and ice in my cup."

(Malot's eyes get big. He quickly holds his cup up to the light and performs an inspection. No ice!! He manages to indicate to his mom that he needs ice in his cup. Mom puts a piece of ice in Malot's cup.)

"Destina, I have ice in my cup, too."

(Destina picks up her cup and shakes it. The ice in Destina's cup makes a glorious noise at it hits the sides of her cup. Malot observes this with wonder. The cup makes NOISE! Will miracles never cease! Malot shakes his cup and quickly deduces that the lousy piece of ice his poor excuse for a mother gave him doesn't weigh enough to smack delightfully against the sides of the cup. He gestures to Mom to get help to rectify the situation.)

"Destina, I have lots of ice, too."

(Both happily shake cups)

(Destina can actually take the lid of her cup, so she does and shows Malot. Malot cannot take the lid of his cup and uses the phrase that Mom can't repeat but has learned to recognize as "take the lid off this cup, woman")

It continued like that for some time. Please note that there's nothing mean spirited about the entire exchange. The wonder on their faces as they discover things together and mimic is wonderful. We try to pretend we're not watching them because then they get shy and stop but it's fun to watch them interact with someone that "speaks their language".

Destina is the sweetest little girl. She loves to eat ice. LOVES it! But she pulls out pieces on her fork and we caught her feeding it to Malot off her fork yesterday. She just wants him to have the good stuff as well.

Oh, Yeah! Well BLINK YOU!

So apparently our little Haitians do this slow, deliberate, scrunchy-eyed blink that is culturally a very rude gesture.

Malot first whipped it out after I correctly used the Creole phrase, "Please don't do that". You should have seen the shock in his face. It was a bit like watching the Wicked Witch realize she's melting! The thought that crossed his eyes was like, 'Who on earth told HER those magic words!"

And then he blinked at me.

I didn't think anything of it because I didn't know it was code.

Later at dinner when I gently told him that again for something (probably flicking ice at someone) he blinked at me again and Nichole started laughing and explained the significance of 'the blink".

Now that I know that it means something it's much easier to see when he's getting a bit defiant. Which, in this case, means I really AM understanding him and he really IS understanding me.

Brent and I might have to bring this habit home. I can just picture an argument where we both start deliberately and slowly blinking at each other.

"Oh, yeah! Well, blink you" just doesn't sound rude in English.

But at least I know he's trying to tell me something.

Machin Meets Ingenuity

Malot with his self-made toy -taking his favorite toy car and using a thread from the hotel comforter and some dental floss to make a pull for it. He even tied the initial knots himself.

I love that in the last picture you can see that the waistband on his shorts is rolled down to try to keep them on his skinny little body and he STILL has to hold his shorts with one hand. Fortunately he can enjoy his creation single-handledly.

Watching Nemo in French

How Old Do You WANT Him to Be?

I've mentioned before that they aren't really sure when Malot's birthday is.

It's hard to gauge by fine-motor skills as their "needs" here are different. My friends' little girl can braid hair VERY well and she's only 4. Malot has a bit of MacGyver in him. When you live in an O (orphanage) you need a bit of MacGyver in you. Malot discovered a very loose thread on the hotel comforter, and pulled it until it was long enough for him to use and bit it off with his teeth. Then he tied it to his favorite machin (truck) so that he could pull it along behind him. That wasn't quite long enough for him, so he ended up tying that string with two strands of dental floss (clean, by the way) . Momma helped him with the lashing, but he did the initial design and concept all on his own. He knows how to bite off a thread with his teeth and and he recognizes when the ends of his knot are too long for his liking and he trims those tails down with his teeth as well.

So while he can tie knots he can barely hold a crayon. He has a very strange grip that he uses and he makes rows of loops while using faintest of pressure on his page. That seems to be what he does. The sizes of the loops are fairly consistent, so that's a good thing.

He's tiny - he's 37" tall and weighs about 25 lbs. They told us he was 3, going on 4. He does speak in full sentences in Kreyol. I can pick out about every 10th word. I've figured out that he asks for my permission before he opens a granola bar. He calls them "bonbon" because they're so sweet and sticky. We brought a BUNCH of granola bars, dried fruit, sandwich-filled crackers and fruit snacks with us. The granola bars are his favorite.

Anyway, we've been trying to figure out how old he is, as they apparently don't have any birth certificate information for him. I told that I hoped his birthday was late enough in the year that he would get to wait an extra year to start kindergarten. They turned to me and said, very seriously, "How old do you want him to be?" Given that there isn't a birth certificate for this child, someone has to decide and you can make him younger if you want. If you'd like him to turn 3 this year instead of turn 4 this year, we can do that.

We haven't exactly given them a response yet. But it is odd to think about. Surely with everything he's been through and will continue to go through for awhile, it seems it would be good to make him younger so that he has time to get caught up on English and adjusted to a new country and culture before he has to be launched into the cold cruel world of kindergarten.

Something to think about...

Monday

This is the family in the back of the tap-tap on the way back to the hotel.

Malot definitely is an orphanage kid. We gave him a Starburst and he carefully unwrapped it, popped it in his mouth, gave it two good sucks and then carefully put it back in the wrapper to save it for later. (We did convince him there were more and he really could eat it.)

He has a great laugh and a fabulous smile. He's very curious and he's a talker, but we don't know what he's saying.

He slept with me last night and he does a mean horizontal tango. That kid was all over the place! And always scratching (and Momma forgot the cortisone!)

Early this morning, I took him to the toilet and we were snuggling when we came back to bed. He started saying something over and over. Near as I can translate, it was "I go with you." We want you to come with us too, son.

He can't get enough to eat. He ate all the beans and rice in my order and there would be no sharing with me. He ate a piece of chicken and he sucked every little bit off the bones of my pieces when I was done. He has this two-hand method of eating with his fingers of his left hand and a spoon in his right. He creates this frantic cadence of shoveling and gets the food to his mouth as quickly as possible. He doesn't like to eat the red beans that split open while cooking. He carefully picked those out and set them on my plate. He even wiped the plate with his fingers when he was done. BEFORE that, he had a granola bar, a package of peanut butter crackers, and all the applesauce that Michelle's two kids didn't finish off from each of their servings and some bread with butter. And that was just at the dinner table. If there is food, he needs to be eating it. And from how skinny he is, it's probably about time he had everything he wanted to eat.



With his belly full, he promptly fell asleep in Brent's arms. He is OUT when he's a sleep. This is a picture of his "limp rag" impression in Brent's lap. We changed him into his PJs, washed his face and put him in bed and he didn't stir.

Off to today's adventures....

We'll Be Here 'til Thursday! Try the Veal!

We're here! The luggage is here! We're clean! We have scabies (OK, Malot has them something terrible, but fortunately we brought cream and washed and doused him heavily in it. Hopefully he'll start to clear up soon.)

I have a new appreciation for albino tigers today. We felt a bit like displayed animals in the zoo today when the vehicle we were riding in broke down several times and we found ourselves stopped in Haitian traffic.

Haiti's has two basic traffic laws: "honk until they move" and "swerve so you don't get hit". All other "normal" traffic guidelines are completely ignored. Find yourself feeling that the traffic on YOUR side of the highway is too heavy? Just drive on the side that was intended for oncoming traffic! Feel that the other cars driving 4 abreast on a 2 lane road are too spacious? Simply make your own lane in between them! Decide that you went the wrong way? Simply drive in reverse right there on the road where you are until it's convenient for you to turn around!

So there we are, in the middle of this chaos when the tap-tap breaks down and all the other lanes and honking and dust and people are left to swerve around us on the highway. For about an hour. It was quite dusty, smelly and may have possibly caused some degree of carbon monoxide poisoning. It was like our own exhibit at the People Zoo. Look at the White Americans! At any rate, there we were, a truck full of white Americans. As trucks swerved around us and honked, people pointed, nudged each other, stared and yelled random things in Creole that I'm probably glad I didn't understand. It had to be quite a sight! And there was an entire gaggle of us! Probably seemed a bit like migratory birds.... you know they're just passing through but you have to get a good look at them while they're in the area.

When we finally arrived at the orphanage, and pulled in behind the gated wall, it was like we'd been transported to heaven and there were angels singing. All the kids in the orphanage were sitting in the outdoor space just singing their little hearts out - not as a show because we were coming, but because that's what they do. I couldn't stop myself from peeking around the wall to look at this sea of beautiful little Haitians, just singing and singing. It was beautiful. I hope the little video clip I took worked.

When I finished trying to get my camera to do a video clip, I looked out at the group of children again and immediately found Malot. He's lost some weight since his picture, but Momma knows those eyes. He wasn't quite sure what was happening, but he was willing to come with us. We went into another room in the orphanage where we could sit with them for a bit and I pulled him onto my lap. He eyes were tearing up and he hung his head, I pointed to him and said his name, "Malot?" and then I pointed to me and said, "Manman" (that's mother in Creole) and repeated that several times. Then I took a picture of him on the digital camera and showed him the displayed result on the camera's screen. He thought that was cool. So I took one of the two of us and showed it to him. He took the camera from my hands and LOOKED at it. His face got all scrunchy as he studied it. And then he leaned down and kissed the screen with our picture in it. Somehow in that moment, he felt he was going to be OK.

He's cheerful. I've caught him singing little Creole songs to himself. He LOVES cars (machin). He likes to laugh. When I showed him the clothes we were going to put on him after we bathed him, he got very excited. He splashed around in the tub and loved the water. He didn't have any trouble with bathing. The clothes we brought for him he loves, particularly the sandals.

I just drifted off, so I think I'll share more tomorrow.

We've had good lightning this evening. I guess there's a Tropical Storm coming.
And yet, even with all the issues and delays and everything - We believe this is right where we're supposed to be.

Why Pack Clean Clothes When You Can Pack Febreeze?

In all my travels for work, I’ve never had an issue with my luggage being where they said it would be. Brent has.

My luggage made it to Miami. Brent’s did not. They tell us it will be waiting for us in Port-au-Prince.

That meant that we had 50 lbs of baby formula and all of Malot’s things when we got to Miami. Our clothes, on the other hand, were a different matter.

Fortunately, B rent had us pack our basic toiletries and a change of underclothes in our backpacks. We could brush our teeth and at least take a shower.

Also fortunately, in Malot’s bag, I have a can of Febreeze – that fabulous air freshener that takes smells out of cloth. We learned from our last trip that you never know when you’re going to end up with a very ill child in Haiti and it makes your stay more pleasant if you pack an air freshener. Unfortunately, this can is not the fabric saving of Febreeze. It’s the room air freshener kind. I figured it still couldn’t hurt to spray it on this ripe T-shirt. It’s got the same first name – it should be close, right?

In case you were wondering, this kind of Febreeze does not remove odors from cloth.

That means that this morning, my olfactory receptors are being serenaded by a masterful blend of Airport, Sweat, and Fatigue, accented with delicate citrusy high notes. I can’t believe no one’s tried to bottle this combination.

In other words, I reek.

That luggage better be waiting in Port-au-Prince. And it had better have bells on.

If not, at least we’ve got Febreeze.

Lay-Over

I'm in the Denver airport, on my way to Miami so I can make my way to Haiti. I love that Denver has FREE WIFI! Yeah, free!

There's a lot on our minds right now - it's hard to remember where we were just 6 months ago when we were going down to meet Lexi and Nathan. We know how badly we can be hurt after this trip. We know what can go wrong. I was a lot less nauseous last time when I was naive.

We're so very grateful to Brent's sister and her husband for giving us a ticket to Haiti. They gave us their sky miles and we were able to get my ticket for this trip. Given that our income was cut drastically that was a huge blessing. We wouldn't be here without their generosity and thoughtfulness. We love you, too, Garrett and Trudi.

There have also been a few kind souls who gave us money to take to our orphanage. Last time we went we were openly soliciting donations and we were overwhelmed by the outpouring of support that was provided. We don't have as many people traveling this time, so we weren't able to carry anything extra. We appreciate the awareness and compassion of those who found ways to help anyway.

It's a weekend of "meetings" for us. Last night we got together with some of Brent's old friends from high school. He had a great time seeing those people again and remembering those days. They haven't seen each other for close to two decades (Brent hates that I keep bringing up how long it has been).

It was fun for me to meet the people that were there in Brent's more formative years. Lincoln had scanned in all their pictures from their high school dances and activities and it was great fun to watch them all groan as they remembered dates or saw what they were wearing. The Eighties were unkind to clothing in so many ways.

Later last night we were able to meet the extended family of our best friends. They hadn't been able to be together as a family for a number of years and it was wonderful for us to meet them.

I've been thinking about how June 9th is Malot's birthday in a number of ways. Based on the paperwork we've received thus far, they don't know when his birthday is. If you consider your birthday as "the day you meet your parents", then tomorrow is Malot's birthday.

I'm sure a lot of soon-t0-be mothers get nauseous when thinking about the events that lead up to meeting their children. I think if those mothers have previously lost children, then they'd confirm that what I'm feeling is normal. It's perfectly normal to be sitting in the airport, barely able to sip your Coke, wondering if tomorrow is really going to be the first day to the rest of all your family time together. Are we really going to be a family? Is it going to work THIS time? Or is this just another trip on the road of our lives where nothing is as planned and everything takes longer than it "should" and then it's taken away from you anyway. Sometimes life is like have a Band-Aid ripped off over and over and over and over.....

We had to make this trip. If we didn't schedule this trip and pick Malot, we would have quit trying to adopt at all. We've been through all the flavors of adoption. We've tried everything we could. We're so close to "done" emotionally.

It would be easier to stay in our little world with just the two of us and get used to having Brent and the dogs as my family. It's easier to not put yourself out there - particularly when "out there" is another country and the entire process is out of your hands. It's easier but it doesn't hurt any less.

My friend says that life "doesn't get easier, it just gets different." We can't really say "things will be easier when..." because as soon as you reach that point there are new challenges. I don't know anyone whose life went as "planned". Divorce finds you. Infertility finds you. Poor health finds you and puts you in a headlock. A spouse doesn't find you. Any time you love someone you make yourself vulnerable. But it would be a pretty dull world if it always stayed the same. If there weren't new opportunities. If we didn't try. If we couldn't fail. If we couldn't hope.

As much as we're afraid right now, we're also hopeful. And with hope come opportunities. Chances to be the one served by your family. Chances to help other people reach out to orphans they'll never meet by using your experience. Chances to be buoyed through this next week by the prayers of all the family and friends that are right there with us - hoping and nauseous and scared.

But hoping.

One Week

We're down to the final countdown...

This is the message we sent out tonight to our family and friends:

Hello to all our family and friends,
We wanted to give everyone an update on our adoption process. As you’re aware, we lost the children that we were adopting from Haiti earlier this year when their birth mother reclaimed them from the orphanage. We’ve since started the process over again and we will be leaving next Sunday to go to Haiti to meet the little boy in these pictures.
His name is Malot (pronounced ‘mah-low’) and we know he’s somewhere between 3 and 4 years of age. (Apparently they actually don’t know when his birthday is, so that will be something fun we get to sort out at a future date.) As you can see from the pictures he has a fabulous smile and beautiful eyes. We’re nervous, excited and scared to meet him and we’re praying that things work out this time.
Many have asked what happens on our trip to Haiti. We’ll travel from Salt Lake to Miami next Sunday and then from Miami to Port-au-Prince the next morning. We’ll go to the orphanage and meet Malot on Monday. We’ll spend a few hours there at the orphanage with him so he can get used to us a bit before we take him back to the hotel with us. Then we get to “play house” for the next week at the hotel. He’s all ours until Friday evening when we have to take him back and leave him in the orphanage.
Haiti isn’t a particularly safe country, so we will spend nearly all our time at the hotel. There are armed guards there, so the building itself is pretty safe. They have a pool and there’s actually air conditioning in our room, which is a rarity in Haiti. We’ll eat all our meals at the little restaurant in the hotel. It should be an interesting week watching us try to communicate with an active 3 year-old who only speaks Haitian Creole!
We have a very small group going this time (only 4 of us) so we didn’t gather supplies for the orphanage like we did last time. There just isn’t that much space.
Malot is supposed to be essentially a child of the State, as his birth parents have abandoned him. We hope to find out more about the status of our paperwork and get a better idea of when we’ll be able to bring him home during this trip.

No words

I have no words....
We'll be in Haiti in 12 days to meet the little boy that we hope will be our son.

I have no words in Creole to help him understand. We'll be going to his orphanage to pick him up, and then we take him make to our hotel with us for the next 5 days. The streets aren't safe, we stay in the compound of the hotel behind the walls topped with razor wire and behind the armed guards at the entrance.

There is a pool. and we've guessed on toys and clothes sizes. And hopefully he is well and we can go for walks around the compound.

I have no words to describe what I'm hoping to see as my big teddy bear of a husband gets this little boy out of any shyness he may have. I imagine it's mostly female workers at the orphanage, so a big, tall, strong, bald, white daddy that's all for Malot should be quite exciting for him.

And today a friend said she would take BobbyJones for the week we're gone, and now we just need a place for Divot to stay.

Checking and reprioritizing the donations, and constant rearranging to make sure we don't exceed weight limits.

The adventure begins again.

3 weeks

We meet Malot 21 days from today. 20 days til we get on the plane. I'd better make sure everything is still lined up with all the reservations.



We FINALLY got his official referral today. We've learned that they don't know when his birthday is. He's somewhere in his 3rd year. His parents were very poor and his mother gave him to his father when she could no longer feed him. The father had him for a few months and then when he could no longer feed him he left him at the orphanage. He weighs 26 lbs. We received this little blurb about him:

Malot has a radiant smile. He loved following two of the young women volunteers around. He shared well with the other children but when given a new toy car he refused to put it down and a few days later he was still carrying it around.

And we're told he has a healthy appetite.

You know how sometimes you see someone and then you hear their name and you think, "Yes. They look like a (insert name here)"?

What does Malot look like? The only boy's name we could agree on was Nathan and we've lost him. We need a new name for Malot. We'll probably keep Malot for his middle name. And remember the last name we have to work with is Rosenlof. That's where it gets tricky.

So.... What name does Malot look like?

T minus 25 days and counting....to Haiti.

Scott and Michelle, bless them and their family, are still going to go. Though they've lost their beautiful daughter, they feel strongly that there is another child in Haiti that needs them and they're going to move forward. Our thoughts are still with them and sweet Ellie has been in my thoughts so much.

For purely selfish reasons, I'm grateful for that because without them the trip would be canceled. It's just us and them going this trip and there have to be two families to be able to make the trip cost effective.

I am trying to imagine an active 3 year old (we think that's how old Malot is - still don't have the details) who doesn't speak English, doesn't know us from Adam and wondering how this will play out. It was different with Lexi and Nathan - Nathan's an infant and as long as you love him, he doesn't care who you are and didn't have a "stranger" concept yet. Lexi was too sick to care.

So, any suggestions on the answer to this riddle? "What's small enough to fit in a suitcase, easily entertains a 3 year old, and doesn't make noise?" (I'm anti-toy noise.)

I'm worried about our O (that's "adopting mom-speak for 'orphanage'") as it seems there have been a lot of sick kids. We can't get information. Perpetual limbo.

I'm worried about when we'll be able to get Malot home. When will our family start? When will we finally get the paperwork we need? Nothing has happened AT ALL since we lost Lexi and Nathan. We haven't moved forward with any of Malot's paperwork. Time lost that can never be recovered, but that's the nature of the Haitian adoption beast. We can't MAKE these children ours.

My friend, Melissa, is going to Haiti next week to visit her children. She's been waiting over 2 years to get them home. And is still waiting. Governments, and paperwork, and UNICEF - oh my!

This too shall pass....

Right?

Memorial for Ellie

Our friends held a memorial for their dear baby girl who passed away in Haiti before the governmental process would allow them to carry her home and make her well. I thought thier post, and the poem written by one of their daughters was very touching. I've copied that post here:

We had a memorial today in honor of Ellie. We all wrote her a letter and
planted a fushia tree by our front door in her memory. We sprinkled the dirt with goldfish and we will be making a marker and burying a copy of the letters and the goldfish package soon. Kelsie gave me permission to post her poem that she wrote to Ellie:

Brown
Brown, Brown, Brown, Brown
It is not a color
it is a beautiful little girl
It is the color of the precious baby
the sight of her is so shocking
as she is so adorable
her smile is not
one you can forget
because her teeth are oh so white
It is her big brown eyes
that stun you the most
the twinkle that you see
when she is so happy
It is her tiny hands that
grabs the goldfish crackers
off the silver mirror that portrays her golden face
It is the love that you see
when you look at her
at first it was confusion,
now it is love
every color, blue, pink, and green
looks good on her,
her hug is so warming
she sleeps so softly now,
she is happier then ever,
now that she is taken from this world
because she was too perfect.

by Kelsie

You know it's going to be A DAY when you have to change your outfit 3 times before you can finally get out of the driveway because the neighbor's very muddy Lab defiles your clothes by trying to do unspeakable things to your leg.

Rage

I miss Ellie.

I have to admit that I've had daydreams about Malot and Ellie falling in love some day in the future. They're such beautiful children and I could only imagine what their own children would look like.

I fancied that we'd be able to keep in touch with Ellie's family after we brought both kids home and that, through the years, love would blossom.

Ellie won't be coming home.

Why does this little girl have to be a statistic?

Haiti has the highest child mortality rate in this hemisphere. 1/3 of Haiti's children are severely malnourished.

And it is the politics that prevent these children from escaping the hell that kills them and coming to homes were they can get food, preventative health care, love, families, kisses, playtoys, clean water.

Ironically, for all the good it does to ensure that the world's children get the basics they need, UNICEF is the largest cause of the political delays we experience in international adoption. While they go on the record as supporting international adoption, the first thing they do when they move into a country is "encourage" the local government to keep their children in their country as a means of preparing for a better future. If you aren't familiar with UNICEF, that's the "humanitarian" end of the United Nations. The UN's peacekeepers have occupied Haiti for several years now. You know the old saying, "beggars can't be choosers". If you can't provide for your own it is very easy to be swayed by whomever will try to lead or help you.

One quick place to get information on what's going on in Haiti and a bit of the background on some of the issues that are experienced by international adoptions (particularly in Haiti in the more recent posts) is http://achildsvoiceinternational.blogspot.com/ . The slideshow in the link on her Sunday, May 4 post is particularly chilling. It was compiled by a charity called The Mercy and Sharing Foundation that is trying to help Haiti's children.

We Love You, Ellie!

We just received word that our little Ellie Gordon passed away this morning after getting very ill. Ellie's adoptive parents went to Haiti with us in January and they met Ellie for the first time when we met Lexi and Nathan for the first time.



Ellie had a beautiful smile and the most hauntingly expressive eyes. It was such a blessing to be able to watch her open up with her new adoptive parents in the short week that we spent with them in Haiti.


My heart is breaking for Scott and Michelle.


Our thoughts and prayers are with you.


We love you, Ellie!

Thought you'd like pictures of the kids. We don't have any, so you'll have to make do with these of our dogs....

Truth in Advertising?

It intrigues me to see what people put on their vehicles.

Today I saw a truck for a local business with this painted proudly on the side:

America and Service
is our
#1 Priority

Well, apparently grammar isn't your #1 priority... Can you really have TWO #1s? Doesn't that defeat the purpose?

I personally would never put a bumper sticker on my car. Bumper stickers equate to immediate depreciation in my book. I do appreciate a good oneliner, however.

Currently my favorite bumper sticker (edited version) says:

Jesus Loves You.

Everyone Else Thinks You're a Jerk.

40 days to Haiti.

No word on the job front for Brent.

And a friend of mine has 3 little boys ages 9, 7 and 6. He said the 6 year old (we'll call him "B") is the biggest handful because he's figured out how to tease and torment his older brothers! He's always "poking" someone to get their reaction.

My friend said the other day the older two started whining again - tell-tale sign that B was at it again. He said, "B! WHAT are you DOING?"

B's response?

"Having the time of my life!!"

:)

You have to admire his honesty! It is fun to poke something and watch it squirm, right?

Why It Doesn't Always Pay to Be Creative for Creative's Sake

I had a weird "remembery" today....

The year was 1978 and I was in kindergarten. For those of you that are younger than me, this was before they'd invented such things as washable crayons and markers that only write on certain surfaces. We used pipe cleaners and tissue paper as art supplies and we liked it that way. (anyone else remember making "hyacinths" for Mother's Day by twisting little squares of tissue paper around the end of your pencil and then gluing the little twists onto the page?)

My teacher was Mrs. Haskell. I remember her not being much taller than me - it's possible I was freakishly tall even then. I was always on the back row towards the center in the class pictures... but I digress.

At some point, sweet Mrs. Haskell (who seemed to be "grandma age" to me) decided to get "creative" with our art projects. She wanted us to branch out and explore our creativity, I suppose. It's also quite possible she was drunk.

That's the only logic explanation I have for why it suddenly seemed like a wonderful idea to her to give the class a very large container of bubble gum, and tell us to chew it up and then make "pictures" by stringing the chewed bubble gum into shapes across our papers.

You heard me right - she intentionally told a room full of five year olds to not only play with their food, but gave them permission to string slobbery, sticky, sugary, chewed bubble gum out into deliciously long strands while sitting in close proximity to the other children. And of course, we all complied. What 5 year old is going to say "no" to permission like that??

I'm not sure how many other girls ended up with so much gum in their hair that it had to be cut out, but I know I was one of the proud members of that list. It seems like it was Jennifer Talley's fault. She was stretching her pre-chewed gum with reckless abandon and a rather large wad of it ended up in my hair. I remember walking home from school that day with a lump o' chewed gum in my hair. It kinda grosses me out now just thinking about it. And yes, Mom tried all sorts of stuff to get it out and nothing worked. we ended up with a good trim to de-gum my hair.

I mean, seriously, what was Mrs. Haskell thinking?

How It All Began...

I had the opportunity to tell someone how Brent proposed to me the other day and I remembered that it really is a great story.

We met at a in the bishop's office at church. We were both in leadership positions at the time and so we had meetings together. He was the only one who "got" all my "witty banter".

Our first "date" (term used loosely) was when I invited him to a Halloween Party that a bunch of us were having. It was a "How to Host a Murder" Party so there happened to be 4 girls and 4 guys because that's how the game is set up. Brent loves to say that on our first date, Lori went out with another guy. It seems that I wasn't very clear to Brent that it was a group event and he was more than a little confused when I arrived to pick him up with another male friend. :)

It's also interesting that Brent never really asked me on a date. I asked him to come to that party, and then we went to a fireside with a bunch of people kind of spontaneously the next evening. The night after that I went over to his house and read him some bedtime stories (it's one of my mad skills). And after that, we were just always together.

Brent had season tickets to the symphony when we first met (he really is a Renaissance Man). I guess he probably did ask me to go to the symphony that night. It was December 11th and it was very cold. Brent was working as a baker (he makes European hearth breads and at one time trained with members of the US Baking Team. Did you KNOW there was a US Baking Team??) and so he worked horrible hours the first year or so of our lives. At any rate, my baker boy feel asleep during the concert. He was exhausted and I couldn't blame him.

I tried to get him to just let us go home after the concert but he kept insisting that "you can't come to Salt Lake in December and not stop by to see the Christmas Lights on Temple Square". It is quite a sight if you're ever in the area (or on this continent, for some of my other friends) in December.

At any rate, due to the temperature, we slipped into the Assembly Hall (one of the old buildings built by the pioneers) on Temple Square to get out of the cold. There was a choir performing some Christmas music in there. Christmas time on Temple Square is an event - and you can move around through these performing groups and displays and things as you'd like.

So there we are, standing at the back of this hall... lots of people either sitting on the benches or just standing to listen to the choir. I'm listening to the choir and looking around (I'm an avid people watcher) when suddenly, I see a familiar face in the crowd... and then two faces...

"Brent, there's my mom! And your mom! I didn't know they knew each other!" I said. (It was late, I was cold... cut me some slack). He looked at me like, "Come on, Lori. You're smart enough to figure this out." Then I noticed his sister there amongst the crowd as well. And she was holding a huge bouquet of flowers. And it all clicked with me and I knew what he'd planned.

There, in front of an Assembly Hall full of strangers and our moms and his sister, he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. He knew that it would be a special moment for these other women in our lives so he invited them to be there, which I still think is so sweet and thoughtful! His sister handed me the flowers and the ring was tied into the bow around the bouquet. There was also a note (which I saved of course) that said:

"There is no confection so sweet as joyful reunion."
From the first time we spoke it was as if our two souls had known each
other for eternity. As time progressed, the truth of this statement rang
clear. I know that the future will show that for us this quote is as true
as the Gospel. I love you and want for us to never have to reunite
again.

He did well, no? It's a great memory. I'm grateful our moms and Trudi were able to be there. It's always meant a lot to me that he took the extra time to include them.

And So It Goes...

I've been reprimanded for not updating my blog in a timely manner.

I have to say I can definitely tell a difference in how I feel this time around. With the trip to Haiti 47 days away, I'm cautious at best, and distant at worst.

About 2.5 years ago we had an adoption fall through about 30 minutes before we were supposed to pick up our daughter. We'd already met her and played with her and we'd redone her room... That was hard.

Then to lose Lexi and Nathan after "playing house" in Haiti for a week... that was devastating. I guess having an adoption fall through is like a miscarriage in the "conventional childbirth" world. But in both of our cases, we've loved and held and kissed and snuggled our kids before we lost them.

I know for Malot's sake, I need to focus on what we have. I'm positive that I'll feel more "in the moment" when we get to Haiti and meet him. Right now, I'm guarding.

This will be a different trip as Lexi was so very, very ill that we didn't do much physical play last time. Nathan was too little to be chased and swung around. That'll be right up Malot's alley.

47 days. And holding.

Request for Help from Our Agency and Orphanage

"Hope for the Little Angels of Haiti" is the name of our orphanage. The picture above is of a little boy in that orphanage, taken on our January trip. I received the below letter today from our agency.

April 17, 2008


Dear Friends of Hope for the Little Angels of Haiti,

We are writing this letter to ask for your help with the current situation in Haiti.

The United States Department of State issued a Travel warning on April 11, 2008.
(http://travel.state.gov/ ) Here is part of that statement. “Protesters angered by high food prices filled the streets of Port-au-Prince, forcing businesses and schools to close. Demonstrations continue and have frequently turned violent with firing of weapons, rock throwing, tire-burning, erection of street barricades, and looting. The violence has forced most people to stay indoors and stranded others in isolated locations.”

Reading this paragraph is heart breaking, knowing that the people of Haiti have turned to violence because they are starving and cannot afford food. Please know that the children in the orphanage
At this time still have food to eat, but with prices of food on the rise it will be difficult to continue to buy food and supplies for the children. Most of you have already been involved in raising money and supplies for this sweet little orphanage and we are greatly appreciative of your efforts. We are just asking that everyone let your friends and family know that we are in
Immediate need of sending money to Haiti to help off set the cost of food.

Current food prices in Haiti:
1 50kg (110 lbs) of rice is 2000gds. ($52.28us)
1 50kg (110 lbs.) of beans is 3000gds ($78.43us)
1 bottle of cooking oil is 300gds ($7.84)

This gives you a little idea of the basic costs of food in Haiti. We are also asking families that will be going on the next couple of parent trips to bring these food items, along with formula and medicines such as children’s and infants Tylenol as your donations, of course all other donations are needed and will be gladly taken. We just want to be sure that the children have food to eat!

Donations are tax deductible and can be made out and sent to:

Wasatch International Adoptions
3577 Washington Blvd.
Ogden Ut. 84403

(Be sure to write food relief: Hope for the Little Angels of Haiti on your checks)

Sincerely,

Nichole Hayden
Haiti Coordinator---Hope for the Little Angels of Haiti

Chareyl Moyes
Haiti Program Manager---Wasatch International Adoptions

Words Do Not Suffice

I've been raised among heroes. My father is a veteran. My mom's brother was killed in Vietnam. I have grandpas who served in WWII.

My uncle Niel B. Riggs was a medic in Vietnam. He was killed by a sniper while trying to reach an injured soldier named Bobby Shelton. His name is two right of Niel's on the Wall.



Over the last year or so, my mom was able to develop a friendship with the men that served as medics with Niel. She has learned the specifics about how Niel was killed from these men. She's learned that it was only because of these men that Niel's body made it on a helicopter so it could begin the long trek home to be laid to rest in Provo, UT.

My mom was able to meet these men and some of their families this last year at about the 40th anniversary of Niel's death. Gilly, Doty and Goody (the Bobs) have become legends in our family. I'd say they'll never know what a gift it has been for my mom to be able to cry with people who knew Niel right up to the very end, but that's just it - They do know. They "get it" and they earned that understanding in ways that no man should ever have to face.

I got a voicemail from my mom the other day. She wanted me to know that one of these dear men just found out about the situation with Lexi and Nathan. He said, 'I don't know how much pull I've got with the Man Upstairs, but please know I'll be on my knees praying for them until this is resolved for your kids."

Words cannot express what it's like to find out that some of the noble and brave are praying for you and your little ones in Haiti.

Thank you, to the Bobs, for what you have done and are doing for our family.

Freakishly Tall

One good thing about being freakishly tall (as a dear friend who can get away with saying that refers to me) is that I can use every cabinet in my kitchen (including the bizarre little one above the fridge) without using a stool.

It is also nice to be able to help random strangers, like the woman who was literally jumping to try to get something off the top shelf at the grocery store yesterday. It makes you feel a bit like a superhero (sans cape) to swoop in and effortlessly pull down said stranded item "in a single bound."

Doesn't quite make up for not being able to buy things off the rack or having 3 feet of inseam, but it is nice nonetheless.

And a "good stuff" from today is realizing that because you have a garage, you don't have to scrape your windows when we get spring snows.

Oh, and JellyBelly Juicy Pear Jelly Beans.

And the 100th Post Is...

Weird. This is my 100th post. A LOT has happened in the last one hundred posts. We even have different kids than we did when I started. Sigh...

It's 54 days until we're in Haiti again. June 8th. We are hoping for peace and calm so that we can travel and meet Malot. Things have calmed down - the rioting stopped for now.

We've been told that it wasn't even safe for Harry to leave the orphanage to get food for the children during the last week. If he doesn't feel it's safe for us to travel when our trip arrives, then we'll cancel the trip. We just hope for the best.

On a completely random note....

Kohl, our little neighbor friend (he's 4) wanted Brent to "sleepover at Kohl's house" yesterday. Kohl suggested that he could "ask Lolo (that's me) when she gets home". It's interesting that, from Kohl's perspective, Lori is to Brent as Kohl's mommy is to Kohl. Hmmm... I may have to remember that. Apparently one of the benefits of being unemployed is that you get invited to all the cool parties!

And finally, I need to add to my Good Stuff list from yesterday. I'm adding:

Jeans. Bags that tear open and then reseal with a ziploc thingy. Having your 4 year old neighbor count you in his best friends.

Good Stuff

Brent. Adoption. Lexi, Nathan and Malot. Spring. Best friends. Good nicknames. The toll sticker that lets me drive to downtown in the Express Lane each day. Finishing something. Getting updates from Haiti. The Book of Mormon. Rain when the sun shines. Grape flavored things that taste like they smell. Finding money in your pocket. Digital cameras. A good book. Families. Music. Fruit Leather. Utah's mountains. International friends. Inside jokes. The Muppet Show. Heroes. Onomatopoeia. America. Modern medicine. Having employment. Air Conditioning. Little kid stories. A puppy's exuberance. Freedom. Memories. A husband who can do anything. Understanding. Hard work. The big picture. Having people post comments on your blog. Dreams where it suddenly makes perfect sense that you're... oh, say... a dental hygienist on roller skates. Laughing so hard your sides hurt.

Disturbance

From CNN.com today. Another article said "we've got a weird form of hunger here - there is food on the shelves but people can't afford to buy it."

Michelle reminded me that we were supposed to be in Haiti right now, but the trip was postponed until June. Now we're going to be there 60 days from now. If things don't calm down, gas prices drop, food to the people we may not be able to go and meet our son.

PORT-AU-PRINCE, Haiti (AP) -- Hungry Haitians stormed the presidential palace Tuesday to demand the resignation of President Rene Preval over soaring food prices and U.N. peacekeepers battled rioters with rubber bullets and tear gas.

Rioters were chased away from the presidential palace but by late afternoon had left trails of destruction across Port-au-Prince. Concrete barricades and burned-out cars blocked streets, while windows were smashed and buildings set on fire from the capital's center up through its densely populated hills.

Outnumbered U.N. peacekeepers watched as people looted businesses near the presidential palace, not budging from the building's perimeter. Nearby, but out of sight of authorities, another group swarmed a slow-moving car and tried to drag its female driver out the window.

"We are hungry! He must go!" protesters shouted as they tried to break into the presidential palace by charging its chained gates with a rolling dumpster. Moments later, Brazilian soldiers in blue U.N. helmets arrived on jeeps and assault vehicles, firing rubber bullets and tear gas canisters and forcing protesters away from the gates.

Food prices, which have risen 40 percent on average since mid-2007, are causing unrest around the world. But nowhere do they pose a greater threat to democracy than in Haiti, one of the world's poorest countries where in the best of times most people struggle to fill their bellies.

For months, Haitians have compared their hunger pains to "eating Clorox" because of the burning feeling in their stomachs. The most desperate have come to depend on a traditional hunger palliative of cookies made of dirt, vegetable oil and salt.

Riots broke out in the normally placid southern port of Les Cayes last week, quickly escalating as protesters tried to burn down a U.N. compound and leaving five people dead. The protests spread to other cities, and on Monday tens of thousands took to the streets of Port-au-Prince.

Preval, a soft-spoken leader backed by Washington, was at work in the palace during the protests, aides said. He has made no public statements since the riots began.

"I compare this situation to having a bucket full of gasoline and having some people around with a box of matches," said Preval adviser Patrick Elie. "As long as the two have a possibility to meet, you're going to have trouble."

The protesters also are demanding the departure of the 9,000 U.N. peacekeepers, whom they blame in part for rising food prices. The peacekeepers came to Haiti in 2004 to quell the chaos that followed the ouster of former President Jean-Bertrand Aristide.

They helped usher in a democratic transition, but critics say both Preval and the international community have focused too much on political stability without helping to alleviate poverty. That could spell trouble not only for Preval, but for Haiti's fragile democracy as well.

Meanwhile, new customs procedures aimed at collecting revenues and stopping the flow of drugs has left tons of food rotting in ports, especially in the country's north. In a country where almost all food is imported, cargo traffic from Miami ground nearly to a halt, though shippers say intervention by Preval last month has improved the situation somewhat.

But the anger among everyday Haitians over food prices is real.

"The government of America sees that the kids of America are eating and going to school -- and that we Haitians are not," said protester Frantz Pascal, 45. "For Haiti to move on, the high cost of living must go down."

If Loving This Is Wrong, I Don't Want to Be Right!

I know it sounds weird, but fruit leather is like my crack cocaine. I LOVE the stuff. I don't eat chocolate - I come from a long line of chocolate addicts so I just don't eat it. But give me fruit leather or give me death. Bless the people at the Costco who decided to stock the "polygamist family pack" (as my sister calls the Costco-size of anything) of this tasty treat.

Unfortunately, more and more the liquid devil that is Diet Coke (with Lime or Vanilla) also tortures me. Its siren song calls to me. I don't actually have an IV for it, but does the thought that I've considered it a sign of anything? :)

I don't think there's anything wrong with the fruit leather, but I need to break free of the chains of (Diet) Coke addiction.

Maybe I'll start working on that tomorrow.

Probably not. :)

Brent is...

Spring is here although we keep getting snowfall as someone neglected to notify the weather that it' is SPRING.

Spring always makes me think of Brent - it's probably our favorite time of the year. Brent broke out the tiller and went all "blitzkreig" on the front flower beds yesterday. He's an expensive tiller, as some plants that I thought we were keeping inevitably fall victims to the front lines of Brent's war on untilled earth.

I don't write much about my husband, so I thought today was a good time to start.

Brent is....

....patient. He doesn't complain much about anything - EVER. When Brent says he needs to go to a doctor, you know he is probably close to death. But I'm not sure if that's the "not a complainer" part of him or the "hates the phone" part of him or the "this too shall pass" part of him.


...a kid magnet. Children - even total strangers' children - seem to be able to sense that Brent's heart is a large as his stature. They start climbing on him within minutes and he's more than happy to oblige. A week or so ago he spent a couple of hours out in the yard swinging around the little neighbor kids. I've heard about that from several moms. They love that their kids love and feel safe with Brent and that Brent loves their kids. He's always overly enthusiastic about playing with the kids. The last few times he's done this he's actually injured his neck - he has some permanent damage in there from something previously and it always flares up wickedly when he goes into "human junglegym-mode" but he always does it anyway. Our nieces love him
- our nephews were too grown up for that sort of thing by the time they joined our family.


...good for snuggling. There's something about his 6'4" frame that is just cozy. And if you don't believe me, ask my nieces.


This is a picture of Brent with one of our youngest nieces at my brother's wedding a few months ago. You can tell that a) they're both content, b) they've done this before and c) they stayed in this position for quite sometime.


...talented. He's got a vision for how he wants things to be in the house, the talent to "make it so" and the work ethic to complete it. He's made things like this:
in our backyard. The design for the arbor is all him - he dreamed it up, figured out how to make it work, and pretty much installed it while he had some time off from work. I came home and went, "Oh! We have a pretty arbor!" Same thing with the waterfall (pondless = childsafe). There are tiers and steps around it, all sorts of plants and trees - we have a beautiful yard. He designs it, plants and I weed it. That's the arrangement. And if you think I've got the short end of that stick, it's because you've never tried to plant a tree with a 300 lb root ball. THAT wasn't fun!


... a master chef and grillman. He has a reputation amongst our friends and neighbors for his cooking. When Brent touches something, it becomes greater than it thought it could be. No plain, ol' pancakes on his watch! No, they'll be cinnamon pecan pancakes. Or Mango pancakes. Not just plain chicken. It's cranberry almond chicken. He also makes artisan European hearth breads. He was a bread baker when we first met. And you haven't lived until you've had what the man can do to a tri-tip steak, grilled pears, or tilapia.


... a hard worker. He's done tile in half our family members homes or former homes. He helps with yards and moving and hardwood floors.


... organized. I needed him for that quality alone.


...a sports man. Loves golf, basketball, watching football and has even tried his hand a field hockey. We keep meaning to take up fencing but one or the other of us keeps getting injured, sick, hospitalized or sent on long business trips.


...quiet. He's tempered me over the years. I'm not sure how we met sometimes. But at least he asked and I said yes.


...loyal. Brent is fiercely loyal. He's also terribly reserved. Just because he won't pick up the phone doesn't mean he isn't aware and concerned and thinking about you.

He's going to be a great dad and I'm excited to see him in Haiti with Malot.

Brent is also interviewing tomorrow for a job that we're really, really, really interested in and one where he could really do well. Prayers, please!

More Malot

Someone with our agency put this little page together for us.

I just love the picture on the right where he's smiling to himself (at least you can't see his whole face). He has some medicine on his ear, so that's what the white stuff is. And, our friend who was in Haiti with us had some info for us when she found out we were getting Malot. She said that Malot was one of her favorites in the orphanage and that he was one of the nicest boys there and was smiling the whole time. I guess that's the international adoption equivalent of a good parent-teacher conference where you find out your child is exceptionally bright and clever! He seems to be a very happy little boy. We're looking forward to getting more information on him and definitely looking forward to our June visit.

A shout out to MRO - I think what you're doing is very brave and I'm proud of you for taking control of your life, no matter what the comments might be. Know you're loved!

And finally, I started a new medication today - the only one the FDA has officially approved for my condition. There are points in your life when you've had it with medication and there are points in your life where you plead for something to take the physical pain away or at least take the edge off. Here's to hoping that this helps over the coming weeks as it builds up.

It's A Boy!

We have a son! We're not giving up on Lexi and Nathan, but if we don't move forward we'll lose what we've done to this point. We're authorized with the government for multiple children, but we're just going to get one for now just in case things change with Lexi and Nathan. It's been over a month now and the orphanage hasn't heard any further update on them or heard from Bernadette.


All we know about Malot (pronounced 'ma-LOW') right now is that he's 3. And he has a wonderful smile and he likes to play with cars.


We'll get to meet him the first part of June when we go to Haiti again.

Pray for Sadie

Those of you who have been reading this for a bit know who Kohl is. Sadie is his little cousin.

She just turned five. This info is from the blog her parents are writing about her;

We received the heartbreaking news on Monday, March 3, that our sweet Sadie has brain cancer. In just this last week she had been complaining of headaches here and there, and would hold her neck when she would have these headaches. This "headache" would only last for seconds, but was enough to catch our attention. We had also noticed some changes in her speech and her balance when she walked. It seemed more pronounced over the weekend, so we took her to the doctor that Monday. After some different questions and checks, he ordered a CT scan of her brain/spine at Primary Childrens. We
headed up there, she did the scan, and they found a mass on her brain.

Later that night they did an MRI for more details, and through this test it was concluded she has what is called a high grade glioma tumor on her brain stem. Because of the sensitivity of the area, (the brain stem controls functions like mobility, speech, vision, respiratory, etc), and as the tumor has intertwined itself to the brain stem, surgery isn't an
option, and getting a biopsy to find out more about the tumor isn't an option.

They concluded it was malignant as one portion of the tumor seems to be moving more aggressively, and tissue around this area shows dead spots (called necrosis). So she has most likely has the tumor for awhile, but only now is having symptoms as a part of it has become more aggressive.

You can keep an eye on Sadie's progress here