The Snow, The Party, and The Flood

The snow a cometh last Friday.   A nice heavy, wet snow that I got to help shovel.  The snow seems to like Friday mornings when Paul has a 7:30am Bible Study that leaves Peter removing snow all by himself until he comes back home to recruit my help.  It was a heavy, wet snow.  A great morning workout for my arms and core.  And a bit of a destressor as I anticipated the doctor's call to go over Jae-min's medical file later that day.

Finally, the perfect snow for snowman construction.

I didn't know there were different kinds of snow

until I lived in it and shoveled it.

The roads were clear enough for my big social event on Saturday.

I hosted homeschool moms at our home

and we sipped wassail from Gram's tea cups,

 nibbled on uber labor-intensive and

oh-so-tasty muffins,

and talked about curricula.

Only 34 more days of third grade.

It's time to start planning for next year.

It was a fun girlie Mom time.

 

And now the flood.

Storms of unusual strength and dampness

came through last night.

Our street was a flowing river,

our backyard a quarter acre pond,

and our basement, sadly, a wading pool.

Paul has been bailing water from the basement all morning.

Please don't come over today,

unless you are coming to take us back to your house.

Our house stinks of icky basement

and leaking natural gas

and unidentifiable burntiness.

And it's cold.

Our furnace stopped working.

Did I mention it's 32 degrees today?

So, please, do come over.

Just take us with you when you go.

Jae-min

His name is Jae-min.

Our newest son.

Jae-min.

We are thrilled and so excited to announce that we have accepted the referral of little Jae-min.  He was born in July and we hope to have him in our arms in four-six months, maybe before his first birthday.

Congratulations!  You have a new grandson... a new nephew... a new cousin...

We have a new son!

He is Jae-min!


He's been our little secret this week.  So fun to finally share our news.

News

I'm just going to tell you that there's news.

It's been one of those weeks when I cannot concentrate because so much is going on in my head - and my heart.

One of those weeks when I cannot eat due to a jibbly stomach and can find no relief in exercising.

But we have news.

Surprising news.  Wonderful news.  Interesting and amazing news.

Tomorrow perhaps.  We have one more phone call to make.

Then we can tell you too.

Seriously, More Snow?

I'm just going to tell you that I went to bed a little bitter last night.  Because of the weather.

This is the shallow life I sometimes live.

But we've had our snow.  And last week it melted all away.

And I was done.  That's enough snow, thank you.

Reuben declared it summer, remember, and we rode bikes for several 60 degree days.

He insisted on a picnic because, for the first time in six weeks, we could see our grass.  Dead grass, but he was so excited.  Good sport that I can sometimes be, I let him pack his very own picnic, we spread out our picnic quilt in the front yard and ate our snacks wrapped up in coats.  He did not wear a coat in the 40 degrees of that day, because the grass was out and it was summer.

Oh, since it was summer, he really wanted to go swimming.  So we hooked him up with Kitchen Swimming...

 Temporarily content.

 So last night they were predicting four inches of snow by this morning.

 And that's what we got.

Peter and I shoveled that path this morning.

And as I shoveled and began to get warm

the sun came out

and my bitterness melted.

I couldn't stay mad at the snow.

It is so pretty.

Fresh clean snow

with shadows and sparkles.

Looking forward to taking breaks in our book learning to explore our neighborhood today.

It's Not About You

The pastor at my church asked me to speak to the congregation about adoption...

"I'm hear to talk to you about something.  It's something I am passionate about so I'm going to forewarn you that I sometimes get a little fierce when I talk about something I'm passionate about.  So please don't get offended.

Four years ago today, February 20th, I met Reuben for the very first time.

I need to tell you that adoption is not about you.  It's about children who need you to give them a family.  It's about children all over the world and children right here in your state.  Children need you.

You're going to tell me that your house is too small or your car is too small or your savings account is too small.  I'm going to tell you, it's not about you.

You might even tell me you're done having children.  Yeah, that's what we said.  We got rid of everything, all our baby stuff.  We were done.

But then last November God nudged Paul and Paul thought, "Maybe we should adopt again."  He even called our adoption agency to find out about adopting again, hoping it would be quicker, easier, cheaper.  It's not.  But he didn't say anything to me about this.

Two weeks later, God nudged me, "Maybe we should adopt again.  There are still kids out there who need a family.  We are a family.  We should adopt."  I immediately mentioned to Paul, "I think we should adopt again,"  fully expecting him to say something like, "We're done.  We did that.  No."

But he didn't.  He said, "Okay, let's look into it."  Later, he told me about God prompting him and how he had called our adoption agency.

Seeking God's guidance here, we prayed and read the Bible over the next couple of weeks.

Then I came to James 1 where it says, "Religion that God our father accepts as pure and faultless is this:  to look after orphans."  Okay, I'd read that before.  But then I read a few verses before that.  "Do not merely listen to the word.  Do what it says."  Ahh!  The Bible says to look after orphans.  Don't just read that, do that.

So we did.

We were comfortable with our little family of four, but God reminded us that there is a child, so many children, who are not comfortable.

God, we don't have the money to do this.  Guess what?  We obeyed Him in faith that he would provide for us and He has.  Some friends had a yard sale and surprised us by giving us the money from it.  Another person, another day, surprised us with a gift of $1000.  And the U.S. government surprised us this year by making us eligible for a tax refund from Reuben's adoption.

Adoption is not about you.  God tells us to look after orphans.

Back during that time when "we were done having kids," we became adoption advocates.  We're done adopting, but let's encourage others to adopt.  We have traveled around our state with Show Hope, encouraging people to help orphans.  I guess we were pretty good advocates because we encouraged ourselves back into it.

But what I'm saying is, you can help Show Hope help families adopt orphans.  Show Hope raises money and then gives it to families who are adopting - to help them with the adoption expenses.  They gave us $4000 to help with Reuben's adoption.  They gave my brother's family a grant too.

You can help a child join a family by giving to Show Hope.  It's not about you.  It's about helping the helpless.  They need you.

One more thing.  Perhaps you wish there was no such thing as abortion.  You know what can help a woman choose life for her child?  Giving her the option of adoption.  Reuben's birthmom could have chosen to terminate her pregnancy, like so many birthmoms do.  But she knew that there was a family willing and waiting to love and care for her son.

Adoption is not about you.  Please, "Do not merely listen to the word.  Do what it says.  Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this:  to look after orphans."

The Winter Life

We have had a very icy, snowy January and February this year.  "The worst I've ever seen," a sixty-something local declared to me.  We have had solid ice on our yards, sidewalks, and untreated roads (all the roads in our town).

The Super Ice Storm of the Year was coming in one night,

so we got prepared to lose power.

The electricity went off and on

several times throughout the night

but we were fortunate not to lose it for 24+ hours like

the surrounding towns.

It got so cold a few nights that we had the boys sleep

in tents in the dining room.

Their bedroom gets extraordinarily cold,

so we shut the bedroom door and just let it be cold,

all by itself.

 Here is Paul's Sandwich Smasher.

He is making fabulous Turkey Melts

that tend to be too tall.

 So he adapted Martha Stewart's Brick Sandwich

smashing technique.

(We made the Brick Sandwich once.  Once.

That was a fun trip.)

  

 One long afternoon Reuben and I tried making pretzel bites.

 We were a great team.

He cut them and I boiled them.

 Salty on the left.

Cinnamon Sugar on the right,

with cream cheese icing.

Soft and yum.

Recipe HERE.

 I wasn't joking about the ice.

This is our backyard.

And those are ice skates Reuben is wearing.

 For some reason he thinks he loves ice skating

and has been wanting us to take him skating all winter.

Cue ice storm.

Thank you.

As a part of a history lesson,

we learned how to play chess.

Thanks to Craig and Tiffany for

this chess set.

And, ugh, Peter created Chess 2

in which he makes up the rules in order to ensure victory.

His victory.

Thus the Lego guy and pink paper.

The game never ends.

 Supposedly, this thing called Winter is not quite done.  But I am living in the moment here.  In this sixty degree moment. 

Sunshine On My Shoulder!

It is sixty degrees today.  In February.  There is snow all around, but Reuben declared it summer today.

Flip flops and mud splatters up his back.

Yes, a day of summer hidden in the midst

of this cold, cold winter.

It feels so good.

I had just turned off the interstate on my way home from Pete's gymnastics class.  To the left I saw a huddle of small children lunging their bodies against the back of a minivan that seemed to be stuck in the muck.  I made a U-turn to see if I could help them.

Paul recently pulled someone out (our neighbor who gets restuck every day) and he told me the tow cable was in the back.  I have never used a tow cable, nor retrieved a minivan from a month's worth of snow and ice melt.  But these small kids were getting no where.

It turns out that it was a mom and her brood and they were indeed quite stuck.  And, her husband is out of town for the week.  I begin to feel like a hero, and I haven't even pulled out the tow rope yet.

She suggested I get in the driver's seat while she helped her kids (there were so many of them, but they were very small) push.  And that did it.  Hooray!  Off to Boy Scouts they went.

My reward for such heroism?  I got to meet that town's police officer just a few moments later.  He was, um, waiting just around the bend, tucked in by the cemetery.  His red and blue flashing lights were not whirling in my rear view mirror in celebration of my neighborliness, unfortunately.

Oh boy.

"What's the hurry?" he asked me.  And, "I need to see your license and registration."

Two boys in the backseat full of questions while the officer is back at his car:

"What's happening?"
"I was driving too fast."

"Why does he have a gun?"
"Put your seatbelt back on."
"But I can't see him with it on."

"He's coming back!"
"Why does he have a gun instead of a sword?"


"Alright," Mr. Officer says to me as he hands me my things.  "Slow down and get outta here."

"Thank you.  I apologize."


But what I wanted to say was,

"Did you know I just rescued a mother and her countless children who were stranded in the muck in this here town of yours?  I did.  On the other side of the cemetery from where you were hiding.   I am a hero.  You should give me a sticker version of your badge."


"And, um, thank you so much for not giving me a ticket, sir."

Peter's Birthday Extravaganza * Part 2

February 7th - The Big Day of Skiing

I'm dreading even writing this part because it started so bad.  So bad.  So frustrating.  But in the end, we are victorious.  Just remember that.

We (two moms and five kids) got up and left the lodge at 7:30am to drive two hours south to the ski mountain.  Two stressors here:  Peter gets carsick nearly every time when we travel in the mornings.  And, it's snowing.

We arrived in good shape at 9:30.  I never envisioned this next part going so poorly.

We were told to meet at this one spot.  Our leader decided to meet somewhere else without telling us.  And, we don't know what she looks like.  So I wandered around asking strangers, "Are you Stephanie Caldwell?"

Found her, got our lift tickets, and like cattle, hundreds of us went upstairs to the stinky, stinky boot room.

 "Now what?" I ask my friend.  We don't know what to do.  Total chaos.  Using our keen observation skills, we eventually figured out how to find boots and get fitted for skies.  Hundreds of homeschool kids and two workers fitting skies. 

   It took us two hours - TWO HOURS - to get boots and skies for our little group of seven.

At 11:30am Peter quietly said to me,

"I'm ready to go home."

Super Momma Powers of Endurance and Positiveness... Activate!

 Ahh, there's a happy skier.

But wait.

Not yet.

We were told we would have a group ski lesson.

Totally counting on this since Peter has never skied before

and it has been nearly two decades since I have.

Not to be.

They announced, "No group lessons today.

Just go to the Discovery Area and move through the stations."

I can follow directions.

We go to the Discovery Area and the instructor tells us

to go back and have lunch and then come back.

That would really help her out a lot.

Cue Tears of Frustration.

We have been here two and a half hours and have not yet skied.
I'm trying so hard, yet feeling so weak and clueless.

But we say okay and head to the lunch area.

Hmm, how do we get our meal?

I ask a worker and she says we have to wait

until our appointed time, find our group leader,

and get our meal from her.

Our lunch time is 12:30.

It's now 12:00.

So we go back to the Discovery Area in hopes of getting a bit of instruction in.

The same instructor greets me,

"Oh! You've eaten and are back."

"No, we can't eat until 12:30.

Can we start going through the stations now?"

"Oh, um.  No, you will need to come back at 1:30."

We still have our skis in our arms, turn back around,

and head to the lunch area.

To wait.

Three hours and no skiing.

But, I'm trying my best to be

Super Happy, No Problem Momma.

Look here.

You'd think I love hot dogs.

I detest them.

Every single thing about them.

But I ate and I smiled.

You know, it only takes about seven minutes

to eat a hot dog lunch.

It's 12:37.

And we have to wait until 1:30.

But, alas, I am done waiting.

"Peter, this is how you ski.

Point your toes in, dig down a bit

and that's how you stop.

Point right to turn right.

Point left to turn left.

If you get going too fast, just fall down.

Ready, go."

And that's what we did.

We went down the hill...

...and came back up again.

Peter proudly announced to our friends,

still waiting at the top of the hill for lessons of some sort,

"My Mom is the best ski teacher!"

Thank you sweet boy.

So up and down we went.

Two little people in matching Uhaul hats.

The first time we rode a big chair lift,

I was so concerned about Peter getting off

that I forgot to get off.

Nice lift worker stopped it and helped me down.

And when the Skywalker Trail got too steep,

he booted down.

No problem.

But the next time,

he skied down.

He loved it.

He said to me several times,

"Mom, I think you should go skiing more than once every twenty years."

This is Midwestern skiing,

random ski mountain

surrounded by dormant corn and soybean fields.

Let's post that smiley picture again...

 We skied until early evening, when my knees said to me,

"You have averted death so far today, Stacey.

Well done.

It's time to stop.

We can't take any more."

So we left.

I can follow directions.

I'm all emotionally drained after replaying that day.

So let's go to the next day.

February 8th - Heading home

Reuben was dressed and ready to swim again by 7am.  The water park opened at ten.  So the kids watched a movie and played.  Then they swam some more.

On our way home we stopped at a lovely Turkish restaurant.  Mmm.  So good.

 

We lounged on floor cushions at short tables.

It was fun and unusual for the kids.

Onward to the drive home.

Do you know what this is?

Steve probably does.

It's an Alexander Calder sculpture.

Right here in our state,

just two hours from our house.

We studied Mr. Calder and his work earlier this year.

Paul spotted this sculpture as he drove

through this college town

and recognized it from what we've learned

about Calder's style.

I have learned so much as a home educator.

I love it.

So there it is.  Uber amounts of fun and frustration and more fun.  Trip #1 done.

Peter's Birthday Extravaganza * Part 1

February 5th -
He still wanted to make his birthday cake with me this year!  But instead of a cake, he is taking after Paul and preferring the giant cookie instead.

Doesn't he look so tall?

He's eight.

No doubt about it.

He is eight.

February 6th - 

We head to the lodge.

Peter's preferred schedule of events:

1. Look around the lodge and decorate the room.

 We found this unusual soap in our bathroom.

The back explained how this bar doesn't leave a little sliver of useless soap behind.

Neat.

 Peter packed streamers, balloons, and a Happy Birthday sign, which was fun.

 2. Have dessert.

Giant Cookie with...

 these Ninjago spinners on top.

And here is when I panicked.

Just above Peter's head is a smoke detector,

I noticed as Paul lit eight candles.

And only a few moments ago I signed the papers

acknowledging their No Smoking rule and I agreed to pay a $100 clean up fee for the sprinklers going off.

Aah!

I got the windows open an inch

and found a book to fan in front of the smoke detector...

and we were okay.

Ahh.

Continue with the festivities.

Reuben, enjoying himself.

 3.  Open presents.

Our room had this lovely little nook overlooking the forest.

Big box from Granpa and Granny.

Amazingly, it's just what he wanted.

  4.  Play with presents.

Peter's friend Brandon and his family came on this trip too.

Here they are battling with Ninjago things.

They liked the nook also.

Ninjago in action.

(Little ninjas spinning around trying to knock the opponent off his spinner.

Throw in some playing cards with special tricks

and you have a fun game for grade school boys.)

Meanwhile, Reuben tore apart the Amazon box and drove his truck on it.

4.  Go swimming.

 

Rube going around the lazy river,

enjoying the freedom of a life jacket

(and Paul is right next to him).

 Peter swooshing down the slide.

 Us.

The cool-yo parents hanging out.

And that is how you have the perfect eighth birthday.

Tomorrow (or when I have time to post again):
     February 7th:  In which we go skiing.