the story behind the story

read this.

i love working for an organization that couldn't offer literal help with the rescue, but still could offer the hope of a Rescuer.

and i love a happy ending.

rock on

a birthday on 10.10.10 calls for one rockin' party. so jack's party was a rock star theme. fits him like a pair of tight leather pants...
i found my invites on vistaprint.com. you have to wade through a lot to find the goodies, but i like them because you can do any wording, font and script size you want. these invites were affordable and rockstar cool...

jack wanted to drive go-karts, so i had to fit that into the theme somehow. the place is called "champions". thanks queen, for the song that provided my thin connection between go-karts and rock stars (see last line of the invite). the boys had a blast rockin' it on the race track...

(btw, hair-flipping while driving is almost as dangerous as texting)

so did the girls...
the decorations=nothing i actually had to purchase...

except the cake, which i didn't really like...
it was okay, but i really wanted to make this one. but we were gone all weekend and didn't return until 3 hours before the party. also, i rarely have success in the cake decorating department, so i thought it would end up as something deserving to be on cake wrecks. thus, the store-bought cake. sort of cute. not too delicious. still, it worked...
the guests=family + five little boys...
the presents=fun!
among other great gifts, jack's zhu-zhu pet (the beloved mr. squiggles) got a wife and a car...
whose the rock star now?

jack was thankful...

(any guesses where lulu learned her attack hugs?)

while bill and lulu did the robot to "mr. roboto" one of the songs on jack's jamz the cd of jack's faves included in the treat bags...
a few days before the bday tate asked me "what totally unrealistic gift did jack ask for this year?" he does it every year. this year it was a real ford mustang. we gave him one...

not quite what he meant, but good for a laugh.

it definitely was a happy birthday, albeit a tiring one...
hey jack...
you rock!

Raise your juice box

Last year Jack had to miss his Valentine's party because he was sick, but I was still there as a room parent. The kids were really concerned, asking me all kinds of questions about him. When it was time for the snack, one little boy raised his Capri Sun and said "To Jack!". And up went 18 juice pouches raised in his honor.

And so today, on Jack's historically cool birthday of 10.10.10, please raise your own juice box (or beverage of choice) with me in a toast to my Jack.

To Jack, who is charming and winsome with his very own kind of magic...
To Jack, who has an extraordinary ability to stay focused...
To Jack, who sees a shirt as an inconvenience...
To Jack, who rarely says "I'm bored", because he brings his own fun everywhere he goes...
To Jack, who is well deserving of his nickname "Action Jackson"...

To Jack, who is charming even when being ornery...
To Samson Jack, who is gonna kill me someday for not cutting his hair before this picture...
To Jack, who is a really amazing big brother...
almost all of the time...
To Jack, who fills our lives with laughter and noise. Your personality is big, but your heart is even bigger. We named you Jack because it means "God is gracious". And He has been so gracious to bless us with you. You were my best ever surprise. Happy 8th Birthday. I love all that you are.

Desperately Seeking Social Skills

Lulu is such a charmer. She has most adults and older children wrapped around her finger in about 4 seconds flat. But other toddlers are a bit of a different issue. She is conflicted on how she feels about other kids her age. She loves them and she loves them not. And I think the feeling is mutual.

She loves them. She lights up when she sees another "baby", but she doesn't quite know how to express her excitement in appropriate ways. So she "tackle hugs" and throws toys at them if they don't readily receive them as gifts from her.

She loves them not. She has definitely improved in the areas of sharing, grabbing and pinching. But she still doesn't understand why kids her age don't give her everything she wants like her siblings and their friends.

We've had some fun play dates lately and that helps her to develop social skills. Last week it was HoneyGirl...
They both have their "mini me" dolls. Though we don't get together near enough, HoneyGirl's family has walked alongside us throughout our adoption and it's always a joy to be together.

Twice this week we got to be with Natalie...
Natalie is such a sweet, little thing. If you think she looks terrified in the pictures, it's because she is. She was the one Lulu flattened with her linebacker hug. We've been friends with her parents for almost 20 years, so she's stuck with us for better or for worse. Thankfully there was some "better" in our time. I was so excited when I returned from a quick trip to the kitchen to find this...
They were actually playing together. Without Lulu trying to grab anything from Natalie's hands. Victory! Shortly thereafter, Lulu offered Natalie a toy on her own...
And then intentionally yanked it back with a mischievous grin...
Baby steps, people.

And today was her first play date with Emory. Which was Emory's very first play date with another baby her age. Emory was not at all sure about Lulu or the whole idea in the beginning. But they warmed up to each other...
There was one teeny, tiny accidental plowing down of Emory with the doll stroller, but no permanent damage done. Hopefully, Lulu is catching onto the idea that she cannot always be the center of the universe. I'm glad it worked out in the end for the babies because I heart Emory's mama who is a blog friend turned real life friend.

Navigating the social skills of a toddler can be challenging, but no less so than navigating our un-chartered waters of having an almost-teenager with a cell phone...

everywhere

Yesterday was my Daddy's birthday. I miss him. He's been gone 71/2 years now. And it's been almost 4 months since my Mommy died. There is no longer the stabbing, searing pain that is with me at all times. It has been replaced with a dull ache. You move on. You live life. Some days are better than others. Some moments sneak up on you and overcome you with grief. And other times you are just filled with joy at the remembering. Especially with my Mommy since the loss is fresher, there are reminders of her everywhere.

I can't tell you the sheer number of things in my home that were gifts from her. Doing the finger play "here's a ball for baby" with lulu. Any time a friend mentions doing something with her mother. And the biggest category, food. We ate out a lot. I can come up with a memory of my mother from almost any restaurant I go to. And I can hear her sweet voice saying, "I do believe this is the best caesar salad i have ever had!" Oh what I wouldn't give to sit across the table from her again eating something involving a lot of cheese, laughing. There was always cheese and there was always laughing.

But God has given me the sweet gift of seeing her in my dreams from time to time. The first one was a couple of months ago. I dreamed I ran into her as she was coming out of a restaurant (of course!) and I was dumbfounded. I exclaimed "You're alive!?!" And she responded in her usual bubbly way, "Oh yes! I've been meaning to tell you!" At that point I was distressed and said, "But we buried you!". And she reassured me saying, "I know, honey. But I am fine. I am alive."

This was more than just a silly dream. It was a beautiful reassurance to me that despite the pain that we have of losing her, she is indeed alive right now. She is fine. And I will be too.

So, though she is gone. She is not. Her memory is everywhere. At the grocery store. At the mall (shopping was a close second to eating out in our activities). At restaurants. In my home. And especially in my heart.

But it's not just my heart that is grieving. I think she and Bill may have had the most lovey-dovey in law relationship ever. Complete adoration on both parts. She was his political conversationalist and his cheerleader...
He told me tonight, "I just miss her."

And then there are my four little ones, without their Gunga and their Granddaddy. It is interesting how each one of them responds differently. They also have reminders of her all around too. Namely this shaggy, no-longer-professionally groomed one...
There are others too. I overheard Jack telling his friend that Honey Crisp apples were his Gunga's favorite kind of apples (again with the food :)). I love that he knows that. His birthday is coming up and he has commented numerous times about the absence of a gift from Gunga. This bothers me since I want him to remember her for who she was, not for what she gave him. But I have to cut him a break since he is only 7. He explained himself though, "It's not just that Gunga gave us expensive gifts. It's that she loved to give us what we really wanted." Not bad for being only 7. He sounds like a child who is having to think a little more deeply about things through grieving this loss.

Tate doesn't say much, which is kind of true to form. But about a month after her death, he was staying at her house with some other family members. When I asked him what that was like for him (he hated being there for the week after she died), he answered that even though he and his cousins had fun playing games it wasn't the same spirit as when Gunga was there. He said, "Even though she couldn't really even play games with us anymore, she still made everything more fun."

I have thanked the Lord so many times that my Mom lived to know Lulu. It breaks my heart to know that Lulu won't remember her, but I overheard one of my kids (I think it was Jack) promising Luci that they would teach her all about Gunga. How dear is that? Lulu still lights up when she sees a picture of Gunga, though yesterday for the first time in many months I had to prompt her to say "GuhGuh!" Oh how it hurts to think of her slipping from Lulu's grasp.

It's my dear Emmie, who is processing Gunga's death the most with me. For the past several months she told me she has been pretending that Gunga is just on a trip, but she will be coming back. I think that approach isn't working so much for her 4 months into it as it is settling in now that she is really gone. She has been asking things like "Why did Gunga have to die?" and commenting on how hard it is that most of her friends still have all their grandparents. She is also sleeping with the Raggedy Ann Gunga gave her and carrying the purse made from Granddaddy's tie. As if there had been any question about the source of her sadness, she left this note next to my bed one night...
And there is nothing I can do to make it better. So I just cry with her. And listen to her. And answer her questions the best that I can as one sad little girl to another.

The impact of this loss, the "everywhere-ness" of it, just reminds me of what an important role the role of MOTHER is. She wasn't young. Her death wasn't tragic. But she was my Mommy. She not only has affected every room in my house, but almost every aspect of who I am. I don't have my Mommy here on earth anymore. But I do get to be a Mommy. Something I can feel like I am flailing in, and even failing in, much of the time. But the thing that made my Mommy such an incredible mother was the sheer force of her love. It was always there and it was overwhelming (in a good way). In such a way that I find it hard to live without.

Except that it's still with me. Her love for me. The love she nurtured between my sisters and me. The love she modeled in her relationship with my Daddy. The love I saw her pour out onto almost everyone she came in contact with. The Love she pointed us to time and time again. And that Love is with me. Everywhere.