Monday, February 28, 2011
People have asked where to order the book
Click here and it will take you to the blurb.com page.
I added a hardcover-image wrap option as well if you want that.
Monday, February 21, 2011
I Can't Want To Be a Romanoff
My dearest Sweetness,
You have a new saying that is adorable and so appropriate.
Instead of saying that you "don't" want to do something, you say you "can't want" to do it.
Mama will say it's time to get ready for bed and you say, 'Mama, I can't want to."
Or I'll tell you we need to get you some medicine for the nasty cold you've had and you tell me that you "can't want" your medicine.
I think I'm going to start trying that one out at work - next time I get asked to create a report or something. We'll see if it works any more successfully for me than it has for you.
Speaking of cold medicine, I think it wired you last night. You were literally bouncing up and down as fast as you could. I asked you what you were doing and you said, "I dancing". Then, on all the "downbeats" of your jumping you said, "Mama. I. Don't. Wanna. Listen".
It was very cute and I have to admit that I couldn't prevent myself from laughing at you.
I am constantly amazed at how you think things through. Since you came home you've called my parents "Grandma and Grandpa Fish" (because they have an enormous aquarium in their living room) and you call Papa's parents "Grandma and Grandpa Mint" (because our last name is hard to say when you're three).
The "grands" have LOVED it - it's been so cute and they've called themselves that as well (like on the phone or "come give Grandpa Fish a hug").
A few weeks ago I finally broke it to you that those weren't REALLY their names. I explained what their names really were and I repeated them a few times so you'd get the association ("Grandma Fish is Grandma Olson", etc).
A few minute later I could hear you in the backseat, talking to yourself. You were trying out the feel of those new names. I heard you say, "Grampa O'son.... Grampa O'son" and then you said, "Mama, do THEY know that?"
I asked you, "does WHO know that?" and you said, "Grampa Fish".
Yes, Sweetie. He knows what his real name is. Sorry to ruin the dream.
Speaking of names, yours can be a mouthful. Our last name is hard to say. You'll get used to spelling it for everyone the rest of your life. But right now, if we ask you what your name is you say "Na-tun Bent Romanoff".
That'll do, Son. That'll do.
I love you,
Mama
You have a new saying that is adorable and so appropriate.
Instead of saying that you "don't" want to do something, you say you "can't want" to do it.
Mama will say it's time to get ready for bed and you say, 'Mama, I can't want to."
Or I'll tell you we need to get you some medicine for the nasty cold you've had and you tell me that you "can't want" your medicine.
I think I'm going to start trying that one out at work - next time I get asked to create a report or something. We'll see if it works any more successfully for me than it has for you.
Speaking of cold medicine, I think it wired you last night. You were literally bouncing up and down as fast as you could. I asked you what you were doing and you said, "I dancing". Then, on all the "downbeats" of your jumping you said, "Mama. I. Don't. Wanna. Listen".
It was very cute and I have to admit that I couldn't prevent myself from laughing at you.
I am constantly amazed at how you think things through. Since you came home you've called my parents "Grandma and Grandpa Fish" (because they have an enormous aquarium in their living room) and you call Papa's parents "Grandma and Grandpa Mint" (because our last name is hard to say when you're three).
The "grands" have LOVED it - it's been so cute and they've called themselves that as well (like on the phone or "come give Grandpa Fish a hug").
A few weeks ago I finally broke it to you that those weren't REALLY their names. I explained what their names really were and I repeated them a few times so you'd get the association ("Grandma Fish is Grandma Olson", etc).
A few minute later I could hear you in the backseat, talking to yourself. You were trying out the feel of those new names. I heard you say, "Grampa O'son.... Grampa O'son" and then you said, "Mama, do THEY know that?"
I asked you, "does WHO know that?" and you said, "Grampa Fish".
Yes, Sweetie. He knows what his real name is. Sorry to ruin the dream.
Speaking of names, yours can be a mouthful. Our last name is hard to say. You'll get used to spelling it for everyone the rest of your life. But right now, if we ask you what your name is you say "Na-tun Bent Romanoff".
That'll do, Son. That'll do.
I love you,
Mama
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Snips and Strings and Little Things
There has been so much of the past year that I haven't blogged about. It seems like life is a whirlwind and it's all I can do to keep up with work and church and my health raging through it all.
So, if you'll indulge me, I'm going to catch you up on a few gems.
When Nathan came home from Haiti, he didn't know HOW to play. We had toys for him. They were pretty meaningless to him. At that point he didn't know what the animals were so he had no concept of what a stuffed elephant or giraffe were supposed to be.
Nate did two things when he came home with toys:
1. He liked to take a toy (like the infamous El Camino) and HOLD IT in his hand. That's mostly what he did. Hold on to it. He'd take it to bed. Take it to the table to eat. Take it outside, upstairs, wherever he was going. Just hold it.
He still does this. He pretty much always has a train or a car in his hand. I think that's pretty reflective of the orphanage lifestyle - if somehow you get something, hold on tightly because you never know when someone else bigger than you will take it away.
2. The one activity that he did do (right from the moment he was home) with his cars was put things in them. It's kind of hard to explain, but if he finds any tiny scrap of something - a bit of string, a rip of paper, some lint off the carpet - he will pick it up and very carefully shove it into whichever car he's holding. That would entertain him for hours. He could sit on the carpet and pick up little threads and just push them in through the windows of whatever he was holding.
When he was first home and before he could really verbalize what he wanted, he'd come to me with a fully stuffed car just bawling. I eventually figured out he wanted me put help him get everything back OUT of the car so he could push it INTO the car again. Pretty soon he'd bring me the car full of strings and things and say, "Hep, peez" and hand it to me to "de-stuff". I'm pretty good at it now (a straightened paperclip is very useful).
I have thought about this behavior and I've thought about what I know of where he lived. Nate was always sick in Haiti. He didn't really run around much. If you can't fight for what you want, you won't get it in an orphanage.
I know how much concrete there was there and how few toys, how little space for those children. In my mind's eye I can see Nate sitting by a crack in the concrete and pushing little bits of dirt into it over and over again to entertain himself.
Here's a closeup of one of his stuffed trucks:
Right after Nate's arrival, my dear cousin, K, sent him two large cars with a note that said, "Because every American boy eventually has to decide - Mustang, or Camaro?" The doors opened on these cars and they were the perfect size for little boy hands to push around. He has LOVED those cars, K. There was a period of time where he figured out he could pull the tires off of them. He picked one at random, named it "Tire" and he carried it with him everywhere. For weeks Tire went EVERYWHERE - he even took "Tire" to bed. Numerous times we'd be most of the way out the door and he'd realize he didn't have Tire and I'd have to go back and find Tire so he could clutch it in his hand. I finally had to put an end to it after the eightyjillionth time of searching for "tire" all over the dark carpet in the back of my car, where he'd dropped it from his carseat and was now sobbing for "Tire!"
Here is one of the cars from K with some string, a carrot and a bit of plastic inside:
So, if you'll indulge me, I'm going to catch you up on a few gems.
When Nathan came home from Haiti, he didn't know HOW to play. We had toys for him. They were pretty meaningless to him. At that point he didn't know what the animals were so he had no concept of what a stuffed elephant or giraffe were supposed to be.
Nate did two things when he came home with toys:
1. He liked to take a toy (like the infamous El Camino) and HOLD IT in his hand. That's mostly what he did. Hold on to it. He'd take it to bed. Take it to the table to eat. Take it outside, upstairs, wherever he was going. Just hold it.
He still does this. He pretty much always has a train or a car in his hand. I think that's pretty reflective of the orphanage lifestyle - if somehow you get something, hold on tightly because you never know when someone else bigger than you will take it away.
2. The one activity that he did do (right from the moment he was home) with his cars was put things in them. It's kind of hard to explain, but if he finds any tiny scrap of something - a bit of string, a rip of paper, some lint off the carpet - he will pick it up and very carefully shove it into whichever car he's holding. That would entertain him for hours. He could sit on the carpet and pick up little threads and just push them in through the windows of whatever he was holding.
When he was first home and before he could really verbalize what he wanted, he'd come to me with a fully stuffed car just bawling. I eventually figured out he wanted me put help him get everything back OUT of the car so he could push it INTO the car again. Pretty soon he'd bring me the car full of strings and things and say, "Hep, peez" and hand it to me to "de-stuff". I'm pretty good at it now (a straightened paperclip is very useful).
I have thought about this behavior and I've thought about what I know of where he lived. Nate was always sick in Haiti. He didn't really run around much. If you can't fight for what you want, you won't get it in an orphanage.
I know how much concrete there was there and how few toys, how little space for those children. In my mind's eye I can see Nate sitting by a crack in the concrete and pushing little bits of dirt into it over and over again to entertain himself.
Here's a closeup of one of his stuffed trucks:
Here is one of the cars from K with some string, a carrot and a bit of plastic inside:
I spent many evenings laying on my stomach next to him and showing him how the cars rolled back and forth if you held them just so and making car noises for him. At first he LOOKED at me like I was insane, but he quickly caught on.
Now he likes to go through all his cars and trains and say, "Mama, what color dis? What color dat?" or "What his name?" (mostly used for his Thomas trains). That will entertain him until Mama is so bored she wants to poke her eyes out.
But the best moments are when I can hear him making his cars or trains talk to each other and he's making whistle sounds and engine sounds and just being an American boy.
That, my friends, is a beautiful thing.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Book, part deux
Of course, as soon as I got the book in the mail and flipped through it, I could see a few places where the headers weren't lined up how they should have been.
I am uploaded a new copy to blurb.com so if you haven't ordered one yet and you're going to, then please use the 2nd version.
I've also edited the Paypal button to include a "use it where you need it most" option. A couple people have asked about that.
We seem to have flatlined at 83 Twitter followers. Not sure what we need to do to get traction and really get some numbers (aside from having someone who can full-time Tweet... honestly, who has the time for that??)
I am uploaded a new copy to blurb.com so if you haven't ordered one yet and you're going to, then please use the 2nd version.
I've also edited the Paypal button to include a "use it where you need it most" option. A couple people have asked about that.
We seem to have flatlined at 83 Twitter followers. Not sure what we need to do to get traction and really get some numbers (aside from having someone who can full-time Tweet... honestly, who has the time for that??)
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
It Takes a Sweet Boy to Call His 6'4" Papa This
Nate says this quite often in reference to Daddy.
I just adore the way he says "funny liddle guy".
I just adore the way he says "funny liddle guy".
Monday, February 14, 2011
It's Your Birthday!.... What Do You Mean It's Not Your Birthday
Nathan's a little confused about the whole "holiday" and "celebrations" thing. Since it was Daddy's birthday 2 weeks ago, he's been singing a little song he made up for the dogs, "It's your birthday, Pohla!"
So we made his first Valentines this week. I thought it would be cute to try to get him to focus for a half a second and tell me something about the kids in his day care.
So, Nate did the front of the cards, and Mama did the investigative reporting on the back.
For those of you who can't quite make it out, the back of Collin's card says, 'He my friend", "He my buddy", "I gonna give him money?" (This one he phrased as a question, trying to figure out again what the point of these "bal-en-times" is), "It's your birthday, Collin" (he wanted to tell that to all the kids, so what are you going to do besides run with it?), "I love him", and "He my big buddy".
And while we're at it, here are the dogs. Their names are Divot
and Bobby Jones,
but Nathan's nicknamed them "Pohla" and "Poklee" respectively.
And here is his best whirling dervish while he sings a little ditty he made up himself titled,
"It's you birfday for Poklee"
Friday, February 11, 2011
I Come Back for You
Son,
Some friends of ours gave us this Fisher-Price car for you. Somehow they'd ordered two and didn't want to deal with a return.
I'm not sure exactly how that happens, but hey - free car!
Because it's like negative eleventy outside, we have it in the house. In the evenings after dinner you like to get it out and drive it around and around the couch/kitchen island loop. It's like the Toddler Autobahn. Dogs beware. Nate's got his "Flintstone feet" and he's a-going!
I'll say, "Bye, Nate! Come back soon!" and you'll say, "Bye, Mama! I see you later!" and then you're off. Sometimes you say, "I go work. See you later. I get you a Jessie's" (that's his daycare lady).
This last week you added to our little game.
Now when you come back around the loop you say, "Mama, I come back for you!" and then you swing open the door to your car and you run as fast as you can to give me a hug.
Oh, Sweetness. I know exactly how you feel.
Mamas always, always come back for you.
We're flamily.
I love you,
Mama
Thursday, February 10, 2011
How Does $5 Per Month Sound?
We have a "monthly support' option now for helping Haiti.
The button here looks "meh" but the version of it on "belhaiti.org" made me do the happy dance.
Can you do $5.00 per month for Harry? For Bel?
What about $20?
$20.00 is like a bajillionty times more money than Harry could do on his own every month.
Will you help?
The button here looks "meh" but the version of it on "belhaiti.org" made me do the happy dance.
Can you do $5.00 per month for Harry? For Bel?
What about $20?
$20.00 is like a bajillionty times more money than Harry could do on his own every month.
Will you help?
My Kingdom for the Rent...
I'm having a "sigh" day. I chatted with Harry last night.
He started his conversation with me by saying, "I am very worried for some things". That's Harry saying, "You've got to help me. I can't sleep because of some of these things I have no control over. Remember how there's no way for me to get work here? Remember how I'm trying to care for so many other people that I can't take care of my own family sometimes?"
I asked him what was wrong and he said, "I need to get the rent to the owner".
In Haiti they pay rent for buildings a year at a time. That means it's easy for me to forget that he has to do that. It also means he's been worried about this for weeks and just now wanted to remind me that he still owes that.
I asked him what the rent was. I honestly don't know.
See last year at the first of the year, my son was still in an orphanage in Haiti. Last year, Bel Haiti paid the rent at THAT facility.
Then the earth shook and walls fell and all hell broke loose.
My son came home.
We had to split off from the orphanage he was in for a lot of reasons that aren't open for public nosiness.
We reorganized ourselves as Bel Haiti and Harry became our employee.
Harry lives in a building that should technically be paid for by another organization, another orphanage. He lives in a building that was one of three locations of another orphanage. Harry (and his wife and two kids) live in that facility and run the location for that orphanage's director in exchange for a roof over his head.
He, his wife and two children live in one room of that building. That's it. Their "home" is one room.
Oh, and his family gets to eat when the orphanage kids eat.
Have I mentioned Haiti's a rough place to live?
This year, things aren't good in Haiti. The orphanage director can't pay the rent on Harry's location. Since all that orphanage's locations were severely damaged by the earthquake, they are STRUGGLING for every penny this year.
Where does that leave Harry? What is he to do?
He said, 'The rent is $7000, but this building very bad and need much repairs. All the board part [he means "everything made of wood"] been distroyed the woof and the kitchen. also the gates. It all need paint. Very dirty."
I said, "in America the building owner pays the repairs."
Yeah... not how it works in Haiti.
I said, "Harry, please help me remember. Do you feel $7000 is a fair price for that building?"
See it's hard for me to translate things into "Haiti". I live in America and have a garage for my cars and electricity all the time. I have sewage and running CLEAN water piped right into my house.
What do I know about the going yearly rate for a broken down building in Haiti?
Harry's optimism never ceases to amaze me.
He said, "Yes. $7000 very good price. I would like to have better place but i love this place because it is safe and the weather is cool and it easier to take tap-tap when the car is broken."
In Haiti, the cars are always broken. It's always hard for Harry to get things. He has to find a water truck to come and fill the cistern so that he and the children will have water. That costs him $75 every other week. He has to find gasoline so that they can have the generator run in the evenings for a short while. At $4 per gallon, that's not cheap.
But here he is, 6 weeks into the new year, and the landlord wants his money.
How do I tell a man who is living somewhere that should probably be condemned by US standards but by Haitian standards is someplace to "really love" that I don't have the $7000 he needs to cross this worry off his list?
Sometimes I get so focused on raising the other $33K we need for our part of the wall that I forget that Harry still has day-to-day in Haiti to pay for and no funds to do it.
He's always so grateful for every penny we send him. I know he really feels sad when he has to ask for more money because the rent is due or he can't feed the kids if he doesn't get money soon. It's usually smaller increments and we can usually send it to him, but we don't have this chunk of money for the rent.
What do I tell him?
I tell him "I'll get it. We'll find it Harry. We can't have you homeless."
And I cry as I type it from my warm house with the running water because my son "came home".
Harry IS HOME. That's his world. He lives there. That's what he knows.
He started his conversation with me by saying, "I am very worried for some things". That's Harry saying, "You've got to help me. I can't sleep because of some of these things I have no control over. Remember how there's no way for me to get work here? Remember how I'm trying to care for so many other people that I can't take care of my own family sometimes?"
I asked him what was wrong and he said, "I need to get the rent to the owner".
In Haiti they pay rent for buildings a year at a time. That means it's easy for me to forget that he has to do that. It also means he's been worried about this for weeks and just now wanted to remind me that he still owes that.
I asked him what the rent was. I honestly don't know.
See last year at the first of the year, my son was still in an orphanage in Haiti. Last year, Bel Haiti paid the rent at THAT facility.
Then the earth shook and walls fell and all hell broke loose.
My son came home.
We had to split off from the orphanage he was in for a lot of reasons that aren't open for public nosiness.
We reorganized ourselves as Bel Haiti and Harry became our employee.
Harry lives in a building that should technically be paid for by another organization, another orphanage. He lives in a building that was one of three locations of another orphanage. Harry (and his wife and two kids) live in that facility and run the location for that orphanage's director in exchange for a roof over his head.
He, his wife and two children live in one room of that building. That's it. Their "home" is one room.
Oh, and his family gets to eat when the orphanage kids eat.
Have I mentioned Haiti's a rough place to live?
This year, things aren't good in Haiti. The orphanage director can't pay the rent on Harry's location. Since all that orphanage's locations were severely damaged by the earthquake, they are STRUGGLING for every penny this year.
Where does that leave Harry? What is he to do?
He said, 'The rent is $7000, but this building very bad and need much repairs. All the board part [he means "everything made of wood"] been distroyed the woof and the kitchen. also the gates. It all need paint. Very dirty."
I said, "in America the building owner pays the repairs."
Yeah... not how it works in Haiti.
I said, "Harry, please help me remember. Do you feel $7000 is a fair price for that building?"
See it's hard for me to translate things into "Haiti". I live in America and have a garage for my cars and electricity all the time. I have sewage and running CLEAN water piped right into my house.
What do I know about the going yearly rate for a broken down building in Haiti?
Harry's optimism never ceases to amaze me.
He said, "Yes. $7000 very good price. I would like to have better place but i love this place because it is safe and the weather is cool and it easier to take tap-tap when the car is broken."
In Haiti, the cars are always broken. It's always hard for Harry to get things. He has to find a water truck to come and fill the cistern so that he and the children will have water. That costs him $75 every other week. He has to find gasoline so that they can have the generator run in the evenings for a short while. At $4 per gallon, that's not cheap.
But here he is, 6 weeks into the new year, and the landlord wants his money.
How do I tell a man who is living somewhere that should probably be condemned by US standards but by Haitian standards is someplace to "really love" that I don't have the $7000 he needs to cross this worry off his list?
Sometimes I get so focused on raising the other $33K we need for our part of the wall that I forget that Harry still has day-to-day in Haiti to pay for and no funds to do it.
He's always so grateful for every penny we send him. I know he really feels sad when he has to ask for more money because the rent is due or he can't feed the kids if he doesn't get money soon. It's usually smaller increments and we can usually send it to him, but we don't have this chunk of money for the rent.
What do I tell him?
I tell him "I'll get it. We'll find it Harry. We can't have you homeless."
And I cry as I type it from my warm house with the running water because my son "came home".
Harry IS HOME. That's his world. He lives there. That's what he knows.
Countdown to Homecoming's First Product Recommendation
So, no we're not being paid for this.
A friend at work told me her dermatologist recommended this stuff:
http://www.cerave.com/cream.htm
It's a moisturizing cream with time release something-or-other in it so it keeps "moisturizing" all day.
(yes, I think "time release something-or-other" is the technical term. But thank you for asking.)
You can get it at the Walmarts or the Target. It's pricier, but still not in the "you want me to pay WHAAT??" range.
And here's the best part -
It.
Works.
Better.
I've noticed that the next time I go to "lube" N up (twice per day - I do live in a desert, after all) his skin is not so parched that I think I'm going to chafe him to pieces.
So far, Mama thinks this is muy bueno.
Me likey.
And that's all I have to say about that.
A friend at work told me her dermatologist recommended this stuff:
http://www.cerave.com/cream.htm
It's a moisturizing cream with time release something-or-other in it so it keeps "moisturizing" all day.
(yes, I think "time release something-or-other" is the technical term. But thank you for asking.)
You can get it at the Walmarts or the Target. It's pricier, but still not in the "you want me to pay WHAAT??" range.
And here's the best part -
It.
Works.
Better.
I've noticed that the next time I go to "lube" N up (twice per day - I do live in a desert, after all) his skin is not so parched that I think I'm going to chafe him to pieces.
So far, Mama thinks this is muy bueno.
Me likey.
And that's all I have to say about that.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
What Happened to My Little Boy
Dear Sweetness,
For the last several weeks every time I would ask you to stop doing something you would look at me and ask in the most innocent, sweet tone:
"Joo not want me get hurt?"
It seemed that was the only reason you could imagine for me to ask you to stop something.
Even if that something was feeding your food to the dogs.
This last week, something flipped.
I think the terrible threes caught up with you.
Or you learned something on the mean streets of daycare.
Now, when I ask you to not do something you immediately grab something and try to throw it. Usually at my head.
What happened to "Joo not want me get hurt?" Can we go back to that? I not want ME to get hurt either. And really, how much of your life needs to be spent in timeout??
I love you, but I'm not so thrilled with the train chucking phase we've entered.
Let me know when we can move on to something else.
Love,
Mama
For the last several weeks every time I would ask you to stop doing something you would look at me and ask in the most innocent, sweet tone:
"Joo not want me get hurt?"
It seemed that was the only reason you could imagine for me to ask you to stop something.
Even if that something was feeding your food to the dogs.
This last week, something flipped.
I think the terrible threes caught up with you.
Or you learned something on the mean streets of daycare.
Now, when I ask you to not do something you immediately grab something and try to throw it. Usually at my head.
What happened to "Joo not want me get hurt?" Can we go back to that? I not want ME to get hurt either. And really, how much of your life needs to be spent in timeout??
I love you, but I'm not so thrilled with the train chucking phase we've entered.
Let me know when we can move on to something else.
Love,
Mama
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
It Was Only a Matter of Time
It's like a rite of passage to write on your face, right?
I'm just glad it was a highlighter.
Can you believe this cheesy mug??
Sweetness, you will never know how much I adore you. Thank you for letting me be your Mama.
Monday, February 7, 2011
We Have 70 Twitter Followers
mostly due to the awesomeness that is Loralee
And I've decided that I am apparently absolutely no competition, When it comes to either watching the Super Bowl or reading my fabulous musings, the general population chooses the Super Bowl. Thank you for putting me in my place.
Damn those commercials!
But hey, I don't have lousy half-time shows. At least there's that.
So we're trying again today.
Do you Twitter? Do you know someone who does? Help us get the word out about BelHaitiOrg on Twitter.
Please follow us. We don't just want followers - we want STALKERS.
Won't you be our stalker?
And I've decided that I am apparently absolutely no competition, When it comes to either watching the Super Bowl or reading my fabulous musings, the general population chooses the Super Bowl. Thank you for putting me in my place.
Damn those commercials!
But hey, I don't have lousy half-time shows. At least there's that.
So we're trying again today.
Do you Twitter? Do you know someone who does? Help us get the word out about BelHaitiOrg on Twitter.
Please follow us. We don't just want followers - we want STALKERS.
Won't you be our stalker?
We Are Flamily
Dear Sweetness,
It's been a year that you've been home now. I think you're still getting used to the idea of having a family.
I had to run an errand the other night and I was gone for a few hours. When I walked in the door you yelled, "MAMA! You came back for me!"
It was adorable and yet it hurt my heart.
Since then, we've been talking about how Mamas "always always always" come back for you.
You still don't trust that.
I guess we didn't really "help" that issue, what with our six trips to visit you and your sister while you were in the orphanage.
I don't think you remember those visits, but I think you might remember the stress of being left.
Again.
Then yesterday you looked at me and said, "You love me because we're flam-ily."
That's right, Sweetness. We are "flamily".
And flamilies take care of each other. They love each other. They eat together. They play together. They pray together.
They come back for you.
I will always, always come back for you.
I love you,
Mama
It's been a year that you've been home now. I think you're still getting used to the idea of having a family.
I had to run an errand the other night and I was gone for a few hours. When I walked in the door you yelled, "MAMA! You came back for me!"
It was adorable and yet it hurt my heart.
Since then, we've been talking about how Mamas "always always always" come back for you.
You still don't trust that.
I guess we didn't really "help" that issue, what with our six trips to visit you and your sister while you were in the orphanage.
I don't think you remember those visits, but I think you might remember the stress of being left.
Again.
Then yesterday you looked at me and said, "You love me because we're flam-ily."
That's right, Sweetness. We are "flamily".
And flamilies take care of each other. They love each other. They eat together. They play together. They pray together.
They come back for you.
I will always, always come back for you.
I love you,
Mama
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Show Me What You've Got
Dear Readers,
Do you Twitter? Do you know someone who does?
We're just launching into using Social Media for Bel Haiti.
About a year ago, you helped us raise $10,000 in ONE DAY for Jet Fuel to get these sweet babies home. It worked. They're home. We fueled that plane.
Do you think we could get 100 followers for belhaitiorg on Twitter before the night is out?
Will you help me see if we can?
Thank you,
Nate's Mama
Do you Twitter? Do you know someone who does?
We're just launching into using Social Media for Bel Haiti.
About a year ago, you helped us raise $10,000 in ONE DAY for Jet Fuel to get these sweet babies home. It worked. They're home. We fueled that plane.
Do you think we could get 100 followers for belhaitiorg on Twitter before the night is out?
Will you help me see if we can?
Thank you,
Nate's Mama
Team Hope FAQs:
If you really want to, yes, yes you may. Just go to Blurb.com and search for "Team Hope: Haiti".
- Can I order a copy?
If you really want to, yes, yes you may. Just go to Blurb.com and search for "Team Hope: Haiti".
- What exactly is it?
- Why is the picture of my kid so grainy?
- Why didn't do you this as a fundraiser for Bel Haiti?
- This is made up, right?
A Year and a Week Later....
... and I finally have the book done.
196 pages, 340+ pictures.
It's also kind of difficult when you don't have the originals of ANYTHING - you had to pull it all from the web or someone's camera phone.
Despite putting out several calls for pictures and articles, there were really only a few families who contributed.
I've also decided that the Blurb software was quality checked by blind monkeys. It's pure evil and maddening. I don't think I'd use that option again (for what that's worth).
I've stressed about this way more than is healthy. I worry about whether I've "done it right" and I have to keep reminding myself that it is what it is and you can't please everyone.
It has some great pictures of the kids. It has the background story of how it all came together. It shows how crazy the whole process was. It was fun to remember the whole insane process and realize how much you forget when the situation is over.
As I type this, my son is scaling the furniture while making train noises and saying, "Pushing cars! Pushing cars!" And they're home.
That's really the most important thing, right?
[I didn't do a dust cover - so order a soft copy only (if you happen to be one of the families that is interested.)]
196 pages, 340+ pictures.
It's also kind of difficult when you don't have the originals of ANYTHING - you had to pull it all from the web or someone's camera phone.
Despite putting out several calls for pictures and articles, there were really only a few families who contributed.
I've also decided that the Blurb software was quality checked by blind monkeys. It's pure evil and maddening. I don't think I'd use that option again (for what that's worth).
I've stressed about this way more than is healthy. I worry about whether I've "done it right" and I have to keep reminding myself that it is what it is and you can't please everyone.
It has some great pictures of the kids. It has the background story of how it all came together. It shows how crazy the whole process was. It was fun to remember the whole insane process and realize how much you forget when the situation is over.
As I type this, my son is scaling the furniture while making train noises and saying, "Pushing cars! Pushing cars!" And they're home.
That's really the most important thing, right?
[I didn't do a dust cover - so order a soft copy only (if you happen to be one of the families that is interested.)]
Saturday, January 29, 2011
How Far We've Come
(this should have been posted on the 29th - posting now)
Sweetness,
One year ago today, Mama woke up and realized that she should never doubt Heavenly Father.
One year ago today, Mama's blog had a record 30,000 hits in one day as so many people everywhere were watching and worried about whether they would let you board that plane.
One year ago today, you arrived on American soil with your Papa.
You have been such a joy and "happy thought" for me. I look forward to every night, when I arrive to get you and you squeal "MAMA!!!" and do a little dance.
I look forward to playing and singing and just BEING with you every day.
You've grown, son. 6 inches in the last year.
You are happy and learning and make me laugh every day.
You are a sweet, tender-hearted boy and I'm so thrilled I get to be there while you grow up.
I love you,
Mama
Sweetness,
One year ago today, Mama woke up and realized that she should never doubt Heavenly Father.
photo Mike Terry, Deseret News
One year ago today, Mama's blog had a record 30,000 hits in one day as so many people everywhere were watching and worried about whether they would let you board that plane.
photo Mike Terry, Deseret News
One year ago today, you arrived on American soil with your Papa.
photo Mike Terry, Deseret News
You have been such a joy and "happy thought" for me. I look forward to every night, when I arrive to get you and you squeal "MAMA!!!" and do a little dance.
I look forward to playing and singing and just BEING with you every day.
You've grown, son. 6 inches in the last year.
You are happy and learning and make me laugh every day.
I love you,
Mama
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Our Political Best
I'm starting to worry about the intelligence of our leaders.
We're in the process of submitting green card paperwork for Nathan. We have to get all that done so that we can get a SSN so that we can claim him on our taxes so that we can apply for the adoption tax credit before they kill it off entirely. (I smell a request for a tax extension coming on)
First, there's the form. I think they called it an "I-693". When you print it, the form is 6 pages and the instructions on how to fill out the form are another 20 printed pages.
When the last page of the instructions came out of the printer, my eyes fell to the bottom section that explained how this form fell under the jurisdiction of the "Paperwork Reduction Act". I guess I'm lucky that I got the "short" 26-page version of the form.
Then there's the section of questions that you have to answer. Granted, the form expects that you're not three-years old. I get that. I do.
I just happen to think it is completely ridiculous that they make you answer questions like "do you plan on committing espionage while in the United States". Seriously, how many spies answer that 'yes'. Let me rephrase that... how many "successful spies" answer that "yes"? I thought it was pretty much a given that if you were willing to SPY on someone else that HONESTY isn't high on your list of personality strengths.
They wanted to know if Nate was sympathetic to the Nazi Government of Germany between the years 1933 and 1945 . Yes, the question lists those years. Do we really still get a lot of green card submissions for former Nazi sympathizers? Let's say, hypothetically, that a person is 20 before they really figure out their personal governmental leanings. That would mean the youngest of that group is celebrating their 86th birthday this year. I'd imagine that those that happen to still be surviving don't travel much, what with the bad hips and such that come from being EIGHTY-SIX.
And then at the end of the form, they have a section for the submitter to sign. I wanted to add a post-it that says "applicant is THREE and cannot write his name", but I didn't.
At least they found a way to make things work within the laws so we can finish this process for him!
We're in the process of submitting green card paperwork for Nathan. We have to get all that done so that we can get a SSN so that we can claim him on our taxes so that we can apply for the adoption tax credit before they kill it off entirely. (I smell a request for a tax extension coming on)
First, there's the form. I think they called it an "I-693". When you print it, the form is 6 pages and the instructions on how to fill out the form are another 20 printed pages.
When the last page of the instructions came out of the printer, my eyes fell to the bottom section that explained how this form fell under the jurisdiction of the "Paperwork Reduction Act". I guess I'm lucky that I got the "short" 26-page version of the form.
Then there's the section of questions that you have to answer. Granted, the form expects that you're not three-years old. I get that. I do.
I just happen to think it is completely ridiculous that they make you answer questions like "do you plan on committing espionage while in the United States". Seriously, how many spies answer that 'yes'. Let me rephrase that... how many "successful spies" answer that "yes"? I thought it was pretty much a given that if you were willing to SPY on someone else that HONESTY isn't high on your list of personality strengths.
They wanted to know if Nate was sympathetic to the Nazi Government of Germany between the years 1933 and 1945 . Yes, the question lists those years. Do we really still get a lot of green card submissions for former Nazi sympathizers? Let's say, hypothetically, that a person is 20 before they really figure out their personal governmental leanings. That would mean the youngest of that group is celebrating their 86th birthday this year. I'd imagine that those that happen to still be surviving don't travel much, what with the bad hips and such that come from being EIGHTY-SIX.
And then at the end of the form, they have a section for the submitter to sign. I wanted to add a post-it that says "applicant is THREE and cannot write his name", but I didn't.
At least they found a way to make things work within the laws so we can finish this process for him!
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Isn't It Ironic?
Dear Nathan,
This weekend Mama was making your breakfast. You were sitting on the stool on the other side of the counter from me.
Mama turned around to grab the butter out of the fridge. I estimate it took me approximately 3 seconds.
While my back was turned, I heard you say, "That's dangerous!" in this silly voice that you use when you're repeating something that you heard somewhere that you thought was funny. I know that you normally have no idea what you're saying - you're just repeating what you heard. Usually I can ask you what you mean and you tell me where you heard it.
"What's dangerous, Sweetness?" I said as I turned back around.
And then I gasped.
In that 3 seconds, you had climbed on the counter, grabbed a metal butter knife and were jabbing it, "shower-scene-from-the-movie-Psycho" style into the slot on top of the toaster.
Yes, it was plugged in.
And yes, you were saying "That's dangerous" while STABBING a piece of metal into an electrical device.
My gasp startled you and you dropped the knife.
Then we had a little chat about what "dangerous" means and how it's ALWAYS a bad idea to stick knives into other things.
We'll wait until you're older for the "metal conducts electricity" discussion.
I love you,
Mama
This weekend Mama was making your breakfast. You were sitting on the stool on the other side of the counter from me.
Mama turned around to grab the butter out of the fridge. I estimate it took me approximately 3 seconds.
While my back was turned, I heard you say, "That's dangerous!" in this silly voice that you use when you're repeating something that you heard somewhere that you thought was funny. I know that you normally have no idea what you're saying - you're just repeating what you heard. Usually I can ask you what you mean and you tell me where you heard it.
"What's dangerous, Sweetness?" I said as I turned back around.
And then I gasped.
In that 3 seconds, you had climbed on the counter, grabbed a metal butter knife and were jabbing it, "shower-scene-from-the-movie-Psycho" style into the slot on top of the toaster.
Yes, it was plugged in.
And yes, you were saying "That's dangerous" while STABBING a piece of metal into an electrical device.
My gasp startled you and you dropped the knife.
Then we had a little chat about what "dangerous" means and how it's ALWAYS a bad idea to stick knives into other things.
We'll wait until you're older for the "metal conducts electricity" discussion.
I love you,
Mama
Thursday, January 20, 2011
You Know What They Say: You Can Take the Girl Out of the Inoperable Tumor, But....
I saw a headline today that said something like, "With Baby Doc Back in Haiti, Aristde Calls 'Next'".
What is it about our beloved Haiti that makes evil dictators swarm like sharks detecting blood in the water?
I'm positive that Duvalier has realized that there is a lot of money going to Haiti right now and that one only need be in charge to get it rerouted to your own Swiss bank account.
Why don't some people catch on to the things you should learn as a child like 1) don't bite people, 2) take care of everyone smaller than you, 3) it's nice to be important but it's more important to be nice.
What is it about our beloved Haiti that makes evil dictators swarm like sharks detecting blood in the water?
I'm positive that Duvalier has realized that there is a lot of money going to Haiti right now and that one only need be in charge to get it rerouted to your own Swiss bank account.
Why don't some people catch on to the things you should learn as a child like 1) don't bite people, 2) take care of everyone smaller than you, 3) it's nice to be important but it's more important to be nice.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Make a Box
Dear Nathan,
We've been working on potty training lately.
You were potty trained in Haiti. When you were there and Papa got there to bring you and your friends to America you would tell him when you needed the toilet. Papa said sometimes he was pretty sure you just used the toilet as an excuse to get away from the other 200 children that were crammed into Foyer post-earthquake.
Then we came to America and started all sorts of meds for parasites and you weren't sure you wanted to talk much so we didn't push it and we went to diapers.
I actually typed "went back to diapers" until I remembered that you'd have just been bare-butt naked in Haiti. No disposables there.
We won't talk about how the kids at your O just "went" wherever and twice a day they'd spray down the concrete. You ate, played, pooped and napped on that concrete. There were also a couple of buckets (literally) in the tiny alley behind the building. I don't even want to know how often those were "cleaned".
And they wondered why you were always sick.
Anyway back to the here and now - Mama made you a chart and every time you tell us when you need to go potty you get to mark off a box. At the end of the line of boxes, you get a Thomas the Tank Engine toy from "the Walmarts".
Cheap bribery.
Before Mama introduced "The Chart", you'd actually sometimes tell me you needed to "go potty". Since "The Chart" you seem to be humoring me. You now tell me that you need to "make a box for Percy".
Yup, that's what you call it. "Make a box". Call a spade a spade, right? It's like you're saying, "OK, woman. I'll play your little game if I must."
We've propped the couple of trains that you're working toward up on the wall above the shower. You can see them in their packages and sometimes I've found you standing in the bathroom, looking up at them longingly. I'll ask you what you're doing and you'll turn to me with determination and say that you need to "make a box for Percy".
And I love that now you clap for EVERYONE that goes potty. You're so proud of ME and you've even asked me if I, too, am "making a box for Percy".
Sadly, no. Mama isn't "making a box for Percy". By the time you hit 37, people expect you to do things without rewards. But we'll hold off on that lesson for a few dozen years.
You're just awesome, Little Man. I can't get enough of you.
I love you,
Mama
We've been working on potty training lately.
You were potty trained in Haiti. When you were there and Papa got there to bring you and your friends to America you would tell him when you needed the toilet. Papa said sometimes he was pretty sure you just used the toilet as an excuse to get away from the other 200 children that were crammed into Foyer post-earthquake.
Then we came to America and started all sorts of meds for parasites and you weren't sure you wanted to talk much so we didn't push it and we went to diapers.
I actually typed "went back to diapers" until I remembered that you'd have just been bare-butt naked in Haiti. No disposables there.
We won't talk about how the kids at your O just "went" wherever and twice a day they'd spray down the concrete. You ate, played, pooped and napped on that concrete. There were also a couple of buckets (literally) in the tiny alley behind the building. I don't even want to know how often those were "cleaned".
And they wondered why you were always sick.
Anyway back to the here and now - Mama made you a chart and every time you tell us when you need to go potty you get to mark off a box. At the end of the line of boxes, you get a Thomas the Tank Engine toy from "the Walmarts".
Cheap bribery.
Before Mama introduced "The Chart", you'd actually sometimes tell me you needed to "go potty". Since "The Chart" you seem to be humoring me. You now tell me that you need to "make a box for Percy".
Yup, that's what you call it. "Make a box". Call a spade a spade, right? It's like you're saying, "OK, woman. I'll play your little game if I must."
We've propped the couple of trains that you're working toward up on the wall above the shower. You can see them in their packages and sometimes I've found you standing in the bathroom, looking up at them longingly. I'll ask you what you're doing and you'll turn to me with determination and say that you need to "make a box for Percy".
And I love that now you clap for EVERYONE that goes potty. You're so proud of ME and you've even asked me if I, too, am "making a box for Percy".
Sadly, no. Mama isn't "making a box for Percy". By the time you hit 37, people expect you to do things without rewards. But we'll hold off on that lesson for a few dozen years.
You're just awesome, Little Man. I can't get enough of you.
I love you,
Mama
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Stopped Short
Dear Miss Jess,
Yesterday I was driving home from work and thinking about what had happened in Haiti a short year ago. I was remembering the images that came over the news and the fear that came as we realized how thorough and complete the devastation was.
I was thinking about all the prayers and hoping and pleading and miracles that occurred to get your brother and the other children home. I was thinking about the ache when we realized that you wouldn't be coming home.
A car pulled in front of me just then. In the back window was a bumper sticker across the back window that said "Pray4Jessica".
And my heart broke all over again.
"I do," I thought. I pray for you every day.
I'm not alone.
After I posted about you a few weeks ago, I had a lot of people send me very special messages that reminded me again what a powerful, beautiful, wonderful soul you are. You have touched and changed lives and you continue to do so.
I thought I'd share some of them with you. I know you'll never see this. But it makes me feel better to pretend that you do.
M says:
"I thought maybe it was time to share with you that N prays for Jessica every single night. Even if I forget in the turmoil of getting the girls to go to bed, she does not, and she always asks me to pray for her. Since the news showed the cholera epidemic, she has added a special rider concerning that to her prayer. She does NOT want Jessica to have cholera. It both fills me with joy and breaks my heart at the same time that she has such faith and remembers Jess so fondly."
T&T say:
" I feel extreme 'survivor guilt' in reference to Jessica. It's like a part of me feels guilty for being happy because so much of me is sad that she's not with you and if I let the sunshine fill my whole body then I will in some way be betraying her....I can tell you in all honesty that I, personally, pray for Jessica each day. I pray for the Lord's will to be done. I pray that He will heal that empty part of your heart. And as we get ready to mark the anniversary of the earthquake I pray that He will relieve the suffering of his people by strengthening our hands and our backs -- by touching the hearts of those that have the means & minds to truly make things happen. I know He can. I know it."
K says:
"Nathan and Jessica have put a face to Haiti and helped me realize life’s struggles and many blessings... I pray that this is the year that real change happens! Not just in Haiti, but for all struggling countries, states, cities, families, and people. I pray that life’s blessing outshine its struggles. I pray that the joy Nathan feels every morning when he wakes up next to his Mama, is joy that hundreds more Haitian babies will feel this year."
R&R said:
"Jessica is missed by all who met her"
M says:
"Jess weighs heavy on my heart, the people of Haiti weigh heavy on my heart and we do not do enough. We pray for little Jess and Haiti daily, we pray that Harry will have the strength to face everyday with courage."
Aunt TiTi says that Collin prays for you every night as well.
I find myself wondering what the future will hold for both of us, Miss Jess.
I think of you so often and I'm so glad I had you in my life. I will always wonder why we lost you and Malot and Lexi. Why only Nathan was allowed to come home.
I love you, Miss Jess. I always will.
Lori
Yesterday I was driving home from work and thinking about what had happened in Haiti a short year ago. I was remembering the images that came over the news and the fear that came as we realized how thorough and complete the devastation was.
I was thinking about all the prayers and hoping and pleading and miracles that occurred to get your brother and the other children home. I was thinking about the ache when we realized that you wouldn't be coming home.
A car pulled in front of me just then. In the back window was a bumper sticker across the back window that said "Pray4Jessica".
And my heart broke all over again.
"I do," I thought. I pray for you every day.
I'm not alone.
After I posted about you a few weeks ago, I had a lot of people send me very special messages that reminded me again what a powerful, beautiful, wonderful soul you are. You have touched and changed lives and you continue to do so.
I thought I'd share some of them with you. I know you'll never see this. But it makes me feel better to pretend that you do.
M says:
"I thought maybe it was time to share with you that N prays for Jessica every single night. Even if I forget in the turmoil of getting the girls to go to bed, she does not, and she always asks me to pray for her. Since the news showed the cholera epidemic, she has added a special rider concerning that to her prayer. She does NOT want Jessica to have cholera. It both fills me with joy and breaks my heart at the same time that she has such faith and remembers Jess so fondly."
T&T say:
" I feel extreme 'survivor guilt' in reference to Jessica. It's like a part of me feels guilty for being happy because so much of me is sad that she's not with you and if I let the sunshine fill my whole body then I will in some way be betraying her....I can tell you in all honesty that I, personally, pray for Jessica each day. I pray for the Lord's will to be done. I pray that He will heal that empty part of your heart. And as we get ready to mark the anniversary of the earthquake I pray that He will relieve the suffering of his people by strengthening our hands and our backs -- by touching the hearts of those that have the means & minds to truly make things happen. I know He can. I know it."
K says:
"Nathan and Jessica have put a face to Haiti and helped me realize life’s struggles and many blessings... I pray that this is the year that real change happens! Not just in Haiti, but for all struggling countries, states, cities, families, and people. I pray that life’s blessing outshine its struggles. I pray that the joy Nathan feels every morning when he wakes up next to his Mama, is joy that hundreds more Haitian babies will feel this year."
R&R said:
"Jessica is missed by all who met her"
M says:
"Jess weighs heavy on my heart, the people of Haiti weigh heavy on my heart and we do not do enough. We pray for little Jess and Haiti daily, we pray that Harry will have the strength to face everyday with courage."
Aunt TiTi says that Collin prays for you every night as well.
I find myself wondering what the future will hold for both of us, Miss Jess.
I think of you so often and I'm so glad I had you in my life. I will always wonder why we lost you and Malot and Lexi. Why only Nathan was allowed to come home.
I love you, Miss Jess. I always will.
Lori
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
In a Moment
Dear Nathan,
A year ago today, you woke up in your orphanage, like you had done for as long as you could remember.
A year ago today, you waited for food. I wonder if you had rice twice that day or if it was just once. You didn't always get more than a bowl of rice and beans.
I wonder if that was a day where you got two bowls full.
That day you would have been sitting in that tiny carport with the dozens and dozens of other children there. There was so little to do - not many toys, no place to run, no place to play. I've often wondered if all the days blended together. When it's always warm and you only have one season (to speak of) I imagine that sometimes life seems like one big day.
And yet that day was not just another day.
At 4:53 PM the earth moved and the buildings fell and the people started screaming. In a moment, your orphanage collapsed. We heard later that the aunties who were in the building just start throwing the children in the building out through the door. Somehow they knew it was coming down and that inside was the least safe place to be at that moment. God bless them, because all of the children in your orphanage survived the building collapse.
I wonder so often how terrified you were, Little Man.
We were told that the aunties just took the children they could grab and ran for safety. I don't know where you went or what condition you were in while you were away. I've often wondered if you were fed in the ensuing days.
Because it was days until you were where you should be again. It was actually 10 days later that you were brought to be with the rest of the children from your orphanage. By that time, your Papa was there and was able to smother you with love and make sure you were fed. And in a moment you were part of a family again and would never, ever leave them again.
Some of the older children from your orphanage have finally started to talk about what they've endured and the heartache that caused them to be orphaned in the first place. We'll never know what you went through and in some ways it might be easier for you because of that.
For the rest of us, we can't forget Haiti. We mustn't forget her and her people and the mess that they're still in every day of their lives.
Haiti doesn't get someone to swoop her up in their arms and smother her with love and make sure her people eat.
We mustn't forget.
I love you.
Mama
A year ago today, you woke up in your orphanage, like you had done for as long as you could remember.
A year ago today, you waited for food. I wonder if you had rice twice that day or if it was just once. You didn't always get more than a bowl of rice and beans.
I wonder if that was a day where you got two bowls full.
That day you would have been sitting in that tiny carport with the dozens and dozens of other children there. There was so little to do - not many toys, no place to run, no place to play. I've often wondered if all the days blended together. When it's always warm and you only have one season (to speak of) I imagine that sometimes life seems like one big day.
And yet that day was not just another day.
At 4:53 PM the earth moved and the buildings fell and the people started screaming. In a moment, your orphanage collapsed. We heard later that the aunties who were in the building just start throwing the children in the building out through the door. Somehow they knew it was coming down and that inside was the least safe place to be at that moment. God bless them, because all of the children in your orphanage survived the building collapse.
I wonder so often how terrified you were, Little Man.
We were told that the aunties just took the children they could grab and ran for safety. I don't know where you went or what condition you were in while you were away. I've often wondered if you were fed in the ensuing days.
Because it was days until you were where you should be again. It was actually 10 days later that you were brought to be with the rest of the children from your orphanage. By that time, your Papa was there and was able to smother you with love and make sure you were fed. And in a moment you were part of a family again and would never, ever leave them again.
Some of the older children from your orphanage have finally started to talk about what they've endured and the heartache that caused them to be orphaned in the first place. We'll never know what you went through and in some ways it might be easier for you because of that.
For the rest of us, we can't forget Haiti. We mustn't forget her and her people and the mess that they're still in every day of their lives.
Haiti doesn't get someone to swoop her up in their arms and smother her with love and make sure her people eat.
We mustn't forget.
I love you.
Mama
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Photo of the Year?
Dear Nate,
The local paper printed their "photos of the year" for 2010 today.
http://www.heraldextra.com/app/2010photos/?photo=17
Just so you know, the one of you making out with the dog made their list.
I can't wait to blackmail you with that some day.
I love you,
Mama
The local paper printed their "photos of the year" for 2010 today.
http://www.heraldextra.com/app/2010photos/?photo=17
Just so you know, the one of you making out with the dog made their list.
I can't wait to blackmail you with that some day.
I love you,
Mama
Monday, January 3, 2011
Dear Nate,
Mama likes to ask you random questions to see what you'll see. Sometimes I ask you if you like asparagus, even though I know you have no idea what that means. Or I'll ask you if you have a purple nose or if you like the Seahawks better than the Steelers.
I also like to ask you if your name is something strange. I'll ask you if your name is Hephzibah McGillicudy, for example. Or Dwayne Smarkinsky. Or Eugene Parsnip. Whatever strange-sounding names or words come into my head. Just to see what you'll do.
You're used to it. You know your Mama is silly.
The other night we heard the garage door open, signalling that Daddy was home.
I asked you who was home and you said, "Daddy". I said, "Nathan's daddy or Divot's daddy?" (Divot's our dog).
You said, "Divot's daddy" (and I could tell by the look in your eye that you were on to me - you knew that I was being silly).
Then I said, 'What's Divot's daddy's name?"
You did this funny thing with your eyebrows (that seemed to say, "Wait for it...") and then you proudly pronounced, "Felix!" and then you started laughing your head off because you knew you'd just played my own game back at me, and that you'd done it well.
I have no idea where "Felix" came from, but it is a pretty strange sounding name. Good job, son!
We laughed and laughed at how silly you were. You were so proud of yourself that you spent the rest of your night running around the house yelling, "Felix! Felix!" and laughing proudly.
I'm so happy to see your sense of humor beginning to develop, Little Man. Nothing in Haiti is funny. It's hard to be wacky when you're starving to death.
So here, in this safe place, you're blossoming. You're stretching your mind and you're discovering imagination and you're learning that the world has words like "pretend" and "playing" and "silly" and "more, please".
You're even branching out into wacky.
And I love every minute of it.
I love you, Felix.
Mama
Mama likes to ask you random questions to see what you'll see. Sometimes I ask you if you like asparagus, even though I know you have no idea what that means. Or I'll ask you if you have a purple nose or if you like the Seahawks better than the Steelers.
I also like to ask you if your name is something strange. I'll ask you if your name is Hephzibah McGillicudy, for example. Or Dwayne Smarkinsky. Or Eugene Parsnip. Whatever strange-sounding names or words come into my head. Just to see what you'll do.
You're used to it. You know your Mama is silly.
The other night we heard the garage door open, signalling that Daddy was home.
I asked you who was home and you said, "Daddy". I said, "Nathan's daddy or Divot's daddy?" (Divot's our dog).
You said, "Divot's daddy" (and I could tell by the look in your eye that you were on to me - you knew that I was being silly).
Then I said, 'What's Divot's daddy's name?"
You did this funny thing with your eyebrows (that seemed to say, "Wait for it...") and then you proudly pronounced, "Felix!" and then you started laughing your head off because you knew you'd just played my own game back at me, and that you'd done it well.
I have no idea where "Felix" came from, but it is a pretty strange sounding name. Good job, son!
We laughed and laughed at how silly you were. You were so proud of yourself that you spent the rest of your night running around the house yelling, "Felix! Felix!" and laughing proudly.
I'm so happy to see your sense of humor beginning to develop, Little Man. Nothing in Haiti is funny. It's hard to be wacky when you're starving to death.
So here, in this safe place, you're blossoming. You're stretching your mind and you're discovering imagination and you're learning that the world has words like "pretend" and "playing" and "silly" and "more, please".
You're even branching out into wacky.
And I love every minute of it.
I love you, Felix.
Mama
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Nathan's First Christmas
Dear Sweetness,
It was so fun to see you enjoy your first Christmas.
On Christmas Eve morning, I was snuggling with you on the floor in front of the tree and I said, "Today is Christmas Eve. What does that mean?" and you said, "1 more sleeps 'til Santa comes with toys for Nathan".
Christmas Eve afternoon, Aunt Titi and Collin came by. You got out some of your favorite toys and shared with Collin (although it did require some coaxing to get you to "take turns" with Collin). Mama told you that you were a good boy to share.
You've been a bit sick and so you're out of sorts if Mama doesn't stay right on top of your Tylenol. Around bedtime, you were completely beside yourself - kicking and biting and yelling, "I not go bed".
In an exasperated, not so good Mommy moment I resorted to threats and said, "Well, if you're not asleep then Santa can't come. Maybe he'll have to take your toys somewhere else."
Your eyes got hugely wide and you said, "But Mama... I take-a-turns wit Tollin!"
Good point... that must count for SOMETHING.
First thing the next morning, before your eyes were fully awake you said to me, "Mama, I take-a-turns wit Tollin, huh?" You wanted to be sure that was going to outweigh the complete hissy-fit you'd had. You sweet, sweet little boy.
Sure enough, there were presents under the tree. We took our time and let you enjoy. (You're not smiling in the pictures but trust me, you had a blast!)
You would have been happy with one present. You were pretty overwhelmed with more than one present. But Mama and Daddy have some missed Christmases to make up for, so you got more than one present.
I love you, Sweetness.
Thank you for making all merry and bright.
Mama
It was so fun to see you enjoy your first Christmas.
On Christmas Eve morning, I was snuggling with you on the floor in front of the tree and I said, "Today is Christmas Eve. What does that mean?" and you said, "1 more sleeps 'til Santa comes with toys for Nathan".
Christmas Eve afternoon, Aunt Titi and Collin came by. You got out some of your favorite toys and shared with Collin (although it did require some coaxing to get you to "take turns" with Collin). Mama told you that you were a good boy to share.
You've been a bit sick and so you're out of sorts if Mama doesn't stay right on top of your Tylenol. Around bedtime, you were completely beside yourself - kicking and biting and yelling, "I not go bed".
In an exasperated, not so good Mommy moment I resorted to threats and said, "Well, if you're not asleep then Santa can't come. Maybe he'll have to take your toys somewhere else."
Your eyes got hugely wide and you said, "But Mama... I take-a-turns wit Tollin!"
Good point... that must count for SOMETHING.
First thing the next morning, before your eyes were fully awake you said to me, "Mama, I take-a-turns wit Tollin, huh?" You wanted to be sure that was going to outweigh the complete hissy-fit you'd had. You sweet, sweet little boy.
Sure enough, there were presents under the tree. We took our time and let you enjoy. (You're not smiling in the pictures but trust me, you had a blast!)
You would have been happy with one present. You were pretty overwhelmed with more than one present. But Mama and Daddy have some missed Christmases to make up for, so you got more than one present.
I love you, Sweetness.
Thank you for making all merry and bright.
Mama
Team Hope Book Update
Hi, kids,
For those of you that care, I'm working on the Team Hope book.
The pricing with blurb.com is such that I'm editing right now to try to cut it back to a reasonable amount. I ended up with 200 pages and that's nearly $50 per book! I've looked around at other options and there don't seem to be a lot of choices for "self-published" books with full color photos.
With blurb.com if you want a copy you can order one. I don't have to take orders and deal with all that jazz. And if you want hard cover you can do that and pay more - they take care of that.
I'm trying to get it down to under 160 pages (which is $39.95 for a soft cover 8 X 10). Still a lot, but this is literally a once in a lifetime event. (and all the money goes to blurb.com. This isn't a fundraiser, if you were wondering)
I've taken articles and images from the Team Hope blog and added some pictures from Chareyl. I'm trying to keep enough in there to capture what we were going through back home - not knowing what was happening with our children - and still tell the story of our friends like Harry and Guesno. Hopefully it will be something you'll treasure.
Hope to have it ready to order soon.
Lori
For those of you that care, I'm working on the Team Hope book.
The pricing with blurb.com is such that I'm editing right now to try to cut it back to a reasonable amount. I ended up with 200 pages and that's nearly $50 per book! I've looked around at other options and there don't seem to be a lot of choices for "self-published" books with full color photos.
With blurb.com if you want a copy you can order one. I don't have to take orders and deal with all that jazz. And if you want hard cover you can do that and pay more - they take care of that.
I'm trying to get it down to under 160 pages (which is $39.95 for a soft cover 8 X 10). Still a lot, but this is literally a once in a lifetime event. (and all the money goes to blurb.com. This isn't a fundraiser, if you were wondering)
I've taken articles and images from the Team Hope blog and added some pictures from Chareyl. I'm trying to keep enough in there to capture what we were going through back home - not knowing what was happening with our children - and still tell the story of our friends like Harry and Guesno. Hopefully it will be something you'll treasure.
Hope to have it ready to order soon.
Lori
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Happy Christmas... War Is Over Now
Merry First Christmas to Nathan and the ~1,100 other Haitian children that came home after the earthquake this January!
We know now, from one of the older children, that the kids (at least at our orphanage) were told that "Santa doesn't like Haitians". That's how they explained why there was never a Christmas to the older children. These children never left the orphanage themselves but they are SMART kids and I'm sure picked up from the conversations of the adults that it was Christmas outside that concrete wall that blocked them from the rest of the world. I'm sure they asked what this "Christmas" was and what it meant for them. And, just as adults here in America use the story of Santa to add mystery and magic to the season, the adults in Haiti use the story of Santa to explain why there is no magic and mystery for them or their children. These kids were essentially told that because of who they were, things could never be wonderful or magical for them.
I know, I know - it's a horrible thing to say to a child, but at the same time, I don't know how one explains to a child why everything in their life was difficult. I'm also sure that many, many times they feel that God, Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, the government, and their own parents hate them. I don't know how else you reconcile the extreme "have nots" in daily life when you're dealing with THAT level of poverty.
Since our first trip to Haiti nearly 3 years ago I've wondered many times exactly how it is that I was born in America and have anything, can be anything, can buy anything, can dream and do anything I want while my brothers and sisters in Haiti and elsewhere in the world have to fight for every crust of bread.
Can you really have dreams for tomorrow when every day seem the same as the one before?
So for these children I say, as the song does, "Happy Christmas.... war is over now".
God bless America, families, and water you don't have to boil.
We know now, from one of the older children, that the kids (at least at our orphanage) were told that "Santa doesn't like Haitians". That's how they explained why there was never a Christmas to the older children. These children never left the orphanage themselves but they are SMART kids and I'm sure picked up from the conversations of the adults that it was Christmas outside that concrete wall that blocked them from the rest of the world. I'm sure they asked what this "Christmas" was and what it meant for them. And, just as adults here in America use the story of Santa to add mystery and magic to the season, the adults in Haiti use the story of Santa to explain why there is no magic and mystery for them or their children. These kids were essentially told that because of who they were, things could never be wonderful or magical for them.
I know, I know - it's a horrible thing to say to a child, but at the same time, I don't know how one explains to a child why everything in their life was difficult. I'm also sure that many, many times they feel that God, Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, the government, and their own parents hate them. I don't know how else you reconcile the extreme "have nots" in daily life when you're dealing with THAT level of poverty.
Since our first trip to Haiti nearly 3 years ago I've wondered many times exactly how it is that I was born in America and have anything, can be anything, can buy anything, can dream and do anything I want while my brothers and sisters in Haiti and elsewhere in the world have to fight for every crust of bread.
Can you really have dreams for tomorrow when every day seem the same as the one before?
So for these children I say, as the song does, "Happy Christmas.... war is over now".
God bless America, families, and water you don't have to boil.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Angels Among Us
My Dear Miss Jess,
I miss you more right now than I have in all the gaping, missing heartaches I've had since you didn't get to come home. You should be here with Nathan, being so excited that you have "one more sleeps" until Santa comes to bring you toys. You should be marveling at the magic that suddenly comes this time of year and dusts the world with lights and scents and wonder.
I wonder so often why we both had to go through this - why we were led to you when we didn't get to keep each other. I wonder if you remember us like we remember you. I wonder if your heart aches, wondering why you're still in a situation where you don't get food regularly and you're not safe.
I haven't really posted about you since we found out that you weren't coming home. Daddy tried again to find you in June when we went down and Harry tried again at the end of July. We did hear at the first of the month that you're sick and in Haiti's version of the hospital. I worry, I pray, I wonder.
It seems like you were an angel in our lives... a bright, happy, singing spot of joy that danced across our lives and hearts and then passed by like a comet that only comes every 1000 years and then disappears forever.
We've had tight finances for Bel Haiti this year. It's a hard economy and it's hard for people to donate. We're scraping the bottom of the barrel for the org right now.
When I chatted with Harry earlier this week, he said they needed money. Haiti always needs money. Sometimes it seems like there will never be enough and that no matter what we try it will never be enough. Harry was trying to explain how he knows that we're busy with work and things here in America. Sometimes things are a bit rough in translation. The way it came out he said, 'I know you forget about us because you're more important than us."
That broke my heart. I know that's not how he meant it. I know that he knows we love him. But on some level, he's right. I don't do enough. I get too busy in my day-to-day and days will go by when I haven't tried to do anything for Haiti.
My friend told me that, even though he's not a praying man, he still says a prayer for you every day, Miss Jess. You changed my life. You changed others' lives. You remind me of all that's good in the world.
Maybe that's why we needed you. Why we lost you. So that the children left behind in Haiti would have a name, a face, a personality. So I'd be able to remember that we do this for you. For Harry. For Nathan's birth mom.
I miss you today. I miss you every day. I wish I was your Mama and I wish you were home. Instead I pray for your comfort, your health and your future.
I love you.
Lori
I wonder so often why we both had to go through this - why we were led to you when we didn't get to keep each other. I wonder if you remember us like we remember you. I wonder if your heart aches, wondering why you're still in a situation where you don't get food regularly and you're not safe.
I haven't really posted about you since we found out that you weren't coming home. Daddy tried again to find you in June when we went down and Harry tried again at the end of July. We did hear at the first of the month that you're sick and in Haiti's version of the hospital. I worry, I pray, I wonder.
It seems like you were an angel in our lives... a bright, happy, singing spot of joy that danced across our lives and hearts and then passed by like a comet that only comes every 1000 years and then disappears forever.
We've had tight finances for Bel Haiti this year. It's a hard economy and it's hard for people to donate. We're scraping the bottom of the barrel for the org right now.
When I chatted with Harry earlier this week, he said they needed money. Haiti always needs money. Sometimes it seems like there will never be enough and that no matter what we try it will never be enough. Harry was trying to explain how he knows that we're busy with work and things here in America. Sometimes things are a bit rough in translation. The way it came out he said, 'I know you forget about us because you're more important than us."
That broke my heart. I know that's not how he meant it. I know that he knows we love him. But on some level, he's right. I don't do enough. I get too busy in my day-to-day and days will go by when I haven't tried to do anything for Haiti.
This week, my dear friend asked me if I'd received his Christmas present. He said he'd made a donation to Bel Haiti. When I checked the paypal account for the org, I found that he'd sent a overwhelming sum of money. The note on it? It said, "For Jess, with prayers of comfort".
Maybe that's why we needed you. Why we lost you. So that the children left behind in Haiti would have a name, a face, a personality. So I'd be able to remember that we do this for you. For Harry. For Nathan's birth mom.
I miss you today. I miss you every day. I wish I was your Mama and I wish you were home. Instead I pray for your comfort, your health and your future.
I love you.
Lori
Monday, December 20, 2010
Smosh It
My Dear Baby Boy,
We live about a block from our church.
Yesterday it took the two of us about 20 minutes to walk home. Even though it was raining. And even though it was only a block.
You were so excited to find every little spot of snow that the rain hadn't yet melted and "smosh it". You'd find one and raise your foot over it and then look up at me and say, "Mama, I smosh it!" and then delightedly stomp on the snow.
There was also a small child crying during church. You turned to me and said, 'They not listen to their mother." I'm so proud of you for realizing that it's good to listen to mommies.
This evening you finally caught on to what I've been telling you about Santa bringing you presents. You said, "Santa bring me TOYS? Santa bring Nathan choo-choos?"
I happen to have it on very good authority that yes, dear Nathan, Santa has a choo-choo for you.
You said that Mama should ask Santa for a train, too. You said, "Mama need train too." I love it when you say, "Mama, come play with me" and then we zoom your cars around or chase each other or color.
I told you it was just "a few more sleeps" until Christmas and you thought that was pretty cool. It's so fun to see that you're finally excited about this tradition that has thrilled me my whole life.
I love you, Little Man. Thank you for bringing the magic to Christmas this year.
Love,
Mama
We live about a block from our church.
Yesterday it took the two of us about 20 minutes to walk home. Even though it was raining. And even though it was only a block.
You were so excited to find every little spot of snow that the rain hadn't yet melted and "smosh it". You'd find one and raise your foot over it and then look up at me and say, "Mama, I smosh it!" and then delightedly stomp on the snow.
There was also a small child crying during church. You turned to me and said, 'They not listen to their mother." I'm so proud of you for realizing that it's good to listen to mommies.
This evening you finally caught on to what I've been telling you about Santa bringing you presents. You said, "Santa bring me TOYS? Santa bring Nathan choo-choos?"
I happen to have it on very good authority that yes, dear Nathan, Santa has a choo-choo for you.
You said that Mama should ask Santa for a train, too. You said, "Mama need train too." I love it when you say, "Mama, come play with me" and then we zoom your cars around or chase each other or color.
I told you it was just "a few more sleeps" until Christmas and you thought that was pretty cool. It's so fun to see that you're finally excited about this tradition that has thrilled me my whole life.
I love you, Little Man. Thank you for bringing the magic to Christmas this year.
Love,
Mama
Thursday, December 16, 2010
When Skies Are Grape...
My dearest Little Man,
You delight me every day.
Today you wanted to "stay with Mama". I told you that Mama had to go to work and I said, "So what does that mean for Nathan?"
You sighed, resigned, and said, "I know... Nathan haffa go work at Jessie's" (that's his day care lady).
You sweet, sweet, little boy.
You've made up some of your own words. For some reason, Divot (our Jack Russell) is a "Poh-la" and you think that's HILARIOUS. You chase him around the house, yelling, "Stop, Poh-la!" and laughing your head off like a Munchkin on laughing gas. Only Divot is a Poh-la - no one and nothing else - and Collin also thinks it's hysterically funny.
Sometimes I wonder if you're both cursing in Kreyol and wickedly giggling that we'll never be the wiser.
You also have decided that BobbyJones (our whippet) is a "Poke-lynn" (no idea what either of these mean, but they don't seem to be tied to anything I can find in Kreyol).
If you're having one of those toddler moments where your warp drive goes into meltdown and you're sobbing hysterically, I can usually distract you and get the tears to stop by asking you where your "Poh-la" is. Your eyes get wide, and you stop and think, and then you say, "Poh-la? Where Poh-la?" and all is again right in your world.
(And bless Divot's little neurotic heart for putting up with all the chasing and random "Poh-la" yelling.)
Tonight, we were reading "The Polar Express" together. You love the trains in it. You're so excited to see the trains in the pictures. When we get to the point in the book where the little boy is sad because he's lost his gift, you say, "Oh no! What wrong? He loss hims bell?" and then you turn to the last page of the book (where there's a picture of the bell) and you happily proclaim, "There it is!"
We never seem to read the pages between the "sad boy" and the "there it is!" and I think it's awesome that you're so concerned about the little boy being sad.
I'm still trying to get you to be excited about Santa. Tonight when we got to the page in the book where there is a picture of Santa, I asked you who that was and you said, "Santa Clock".
Close enough....
It was a sweet reminder that you're still trying to figure out some of the things we're saying, just like I'm trying to figure out what a "Poh-la" is.
Later tonight, we were singing together and you happily sang, "You make me happ-EE when skies are GRAPE.... Please don't take my sunshine A WAVE."
I couldn't have said it better, Little Man. Thank you for being my sunshine, my Sweetness, my happy thought, my son.
You do bring me joy... even when the skies are grape.
I love you, son.
Mama
You delight me every day.
Today you wanted to "stay with Mama". I told you that Mama had to go to work and I said, "So what does that mean for Nathan?"
You sighed, resigned, and said, "I know... Nathan haffa go work at Jessie's" (that's his day care lady).
You sweet, sweet, little boy.
You've made up some of your own words. For some reason, Divot (our Jack Russell) is a "Poh-la" and you think that's HILARIOUS. You chase him around the house, yelling, "Stop, Poh-la!" and laughing your head off like a Munchkin on laughing gas. Only Divot is a Poh-la - no one and nothing else - and Collin also thinks it's hysterically funny.
Sometimes I wonder if you're both cursing in Kreyol and wickedly giggling that we'll never be the wiser.
You also have decided that BobbyJones (our whippet) is a "Poke-lynn" (no idea what either of these mean, but they don't seem to be tied to anything I can find in Kreyol).
If you're having one of those toddler moments where your warp drive goes into meltdown and you're sobbing hysterically, I can usually distract you and get the tears to stop by asking you where your "Poh-la" is. Your eyes get wide, and you stop and think, and then you say, "Poh-la? Where Poh-la?" and all is again right in your world.
(And bless Divot's little neurotic heart for putting up with all the chasing and random "Poh-la" yelling.)
Tonight, we were reading "The Polar Express" together. You love the trains in it. You're so excited to see the trains in the pictures. When we get to the point in the book where the little boy is sad because he's lost his gift, you say, "Oh no! What wrong? He loss hims bell?" and then you turn to the last page of the book (where there's a picture of the bell) and you happily proclaim, "There it is!"
We never seem to read the pages between the "sad boy" and the "there it is!" and I think it's awesome that you're so concerned about the little boy being sad.
I'm still trying to get you to be excited about Santa. Tonight when we got to the page in the book where there is a picture of Santa, I asked you who that was and you said, "Santa Clock".
Close enough....
It was a sweet reminder that you're still trying to figure out some of the things we're saying, just like I'm trying to figure out what a "Poh-la" is.
Later tonight, we were singing together and you happily sang, "You make me happ-EE when skies are GRAPE.... Please don't take my sunshine A WAVE."
I couldn't have said it better, Little Man. Thank you for being my sunshine, my Sweetness, my happy thought, my son.
You do bring me joy... even when the skies are grape.
I love you, son.
Mama
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Couldn't Have Said It Better Myself...
Dear Nathan,
The other day you had a sore throat. Mama couldn't feel swollen glands, but you were holding your spit in your mouth. I asked you what was wrong and you said, 'Mama, my swallow's broken".
Oh, Sweetness. I know the feeling.
Glad you're feeling better.
Love, Mama
The other day you had a sore throat. Mama couldn't feel swollen glands, but you were holding your spit in your mouth. I asked you what was wrong and you said, 'Mama, my swallow's broken".
Oh, Sweetness. I know the feeling.
Glad you're feeling better.
Love, Mama
Monday, December 13, 2010
Hey, Look!
Dear Nathan,
I've been trying to get you excited about all the sights and sounds and traditions of Christmas.
You can't figure out why we suddenly have a large tree in the living room. For the first couple of weeks, each time we turned on the lights you'd say, "Mama! I think I scared!"
You're not too sure about why anyone should have to endure snow. You are kind of baffled by Frosty the Snowman. And so far you could not care less about Santa.
Although, the other day there was a catalog on the counter that had a picture of good ol' Saint Nick on the cover and you said, 'Look, Mama! It dat guy!"
Yes, sweetheart. "It dat guy".
One step at a time, I guess. One step at a time.
Love,
Mama
I've been trying to get you excited about all the sights and sounds and traditions of Christmas.
You can't figure out why we suddenly have a large tree in the living room. For the first couple of weeks, each time we turned on the lights you'd say, "Mama! I think I scared!"
You're not too sure about why anyone should have to endure snow. You are kind of baffled by Frosty the Snowman. And so far you could not care less about Santa.
Although, the other day there was a catalog on the counter that had a picture of good ol' Saint Nick on the cover and you said, 'Look, Mama! It dat guy!"
Yes, sweetheart. "It dat guy".
One step at a time, I guess. One step at a time.
Love,
Mama
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Mr. Hoity Toity
Dear Nathan,
You love to play and the longer you're home, the more creative you get with your play. You love to pretend to fly like a dragon and you love it when other things have "wings".
The other day you figured out that you could take a part off of one toy and push them into the sides of your "Thomas the Tank Engine" and it would KINDA be like Thomas had wings.
I thought it was so cute that I asked you to show me how Thomas had wings so I could take a picture. This is the look you gave me:
I don't think I've ever seen a more "hoity-toity" look on a three year old. It's like "Professor Nathan will now present his flying train".
I love you , Little Man. Thank you for always making me laugh.
Mama
You love to play and the longer you're home, the more creative you get with your play. You love to pretend to fly like a dragon and you love it when other things have "wings".
The other day you figured out that you could take a part off of one toy and push them into the sides of your "Thomas the Tank Engine" and it would KINDA be like Thomas had wings.
I thought it was so cute that I asked you to show me how Thomas had wings so I could take a picture. This is the look you gave me:
I don't think I've ever seen a more "hoity-toity" look on a three year old. It's like "Professor Nathan will now present his flying train".
I love you , Little Man. Thank you for always making me laugh.
Mama
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,
Mama
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,
Mama
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.
Mama
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.
Mama
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Sweetness
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.
Mama
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.
Mama
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.
Mama
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.
Mama
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,
Mama
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,
Mama
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Make a Comment and Haitian Roots Gets $2!
All,
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 sixseeds.tv for giving Haitian Roots this opportunity!
Thanks,
Lori
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 sixseeds.tv for giving Haitian Roots this opportunity!
Thanks,
Lori
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!
Sincerely,
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!
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
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