Ode to the 'Hood

We're coming up on 10 months with the Little Miss at home in our lives.  In some ways, I can't remember when it began, and in other ways, I feel like I'm still begging forgiveness and grace for my "new mommy-ness."

{For example, please forgive the measly handful of posts I've offered up this past year, bloggie friends!}

New mommy-ness in adoption world is quite strange--in many ways, I should have a 9-turning-10-month-old.  Instead, I feel like I'm tricked into believing I've been doing this a lot longer than I really have...!

Grace, grace, grace.  It is a wonderful thing.

Even though we are several months from "a year" of parenting, next week marks the first day we met our beautiful little then-baby.  And something about Mother's Day has me feeling an annual-ness about this point in time.

I have struggled with Mother's Day in the past...
For some reason, I thought I had blogged a ton about it.  But lo and behold, this is the only blurb in part of a post in which I mention any type of issue with the holiday.

I was never quite sure "when" to celebrate Mother's Day.  We were in-process for several years, and I likened it be being pregnant...but...it was not the same.  Last year, I had "a child," but I still hadn't met her yet, and I certainly wasn't caring for her full-time.  I so badly wanted to celebrate.  (Do I raise my hand in worship service for "who is the newest mother??")

 And as is true in adoption-world, my Mother's Day will always be shared with other women on the other side of the world.  I did not become a mother on my own--it was another woman who birthed the child I now raise.  My daughter was someone else's daughter first.  And there were precious women who selflessly filled in the gap when Rhet needed food, clothing, shelter, and arms to hold her.  I recognize all of those women as mothers in Rhet's life--women who nurtured and cared for her before I could.

I do not feel threatened by this.  I feel humbled.  You are kidding yourself if you think you've done this whole motherhood thing on your own, no matter who you are or how you became a mom.

In the spirit of my annual-ish pondering over the past year (and in light of the most recent holiday), this post is an ode to Motherhood.

Motherhood, you have kicked my butt.
I thought you would come naturally.  And in many ways, you have.  But every day, you push me to my limit so that I have to cry "mercy" and run to the Holy Spirit for help.  (That's not such a bad thing.)

Motherhood, you may not have stretched out my belly, but you have stretched out my heart.
My capacity to love (my family, others, unselfishly) is growing, growing, growing.

Motherhood, you have hidden me under your wings this year.
I feel like I am just now emerging from this transition, like that 10-month-old I "should" have, who would be standing up on wobbly feet.  I am that wobby-feet-kid-mom.  I feel ready to try new things again...like having a social life...pursuing hobbies...being a good friend...ok, maybe just being A friend... ;)

I have a lot of mom-guilt that this has been such a big transition for me.  I wish I was cooler and way more breezy and go-with-the-flowish and oh, it was nothing-y.  But this was a big life-change.  A big budget-change.  A big marriage-change.  A big time management-change.  Motherhood, you are a guilt-magnet, but I know you do not intend to be so.  You are just trying to teach me that I'm not all that.  Which is okay.

Motherhood, I love you.  You bring little hands holding my bigger hands.  You bring little squeezes around my neck and little lips smooching my cheeks.  You bring giggles and gorgeous smiles for sometimes no reason at all.  Motherhood, sometimes you irritate the crap out of me.  You bring little elbows and knees out of nowhere, jabbing me in the most vulnerable places.  You bring tantrums and time outs.  You bring stains on every single piece of clothing ever to be worn by anyone.  I love you and I dislike you, Motherhood, but mostly I love you.

But you are not my idol.  You are part of me, Motherhood, but you are not all of me.  But you are gracious like that.  You let me be bigger and wider and reach farther than you--you want me to grow beyond you.

Happy Mother's Day to all of you who are part of the 'Hood.
And Happy Mother's Day to all of you who carry a mother's heart in one way or another--you may not get your maple donut with bacon crumbled on top or your handwritten card, but you deserve a thousand thank you's for the ways you bless God's children.

"Mohwr, Mohwr, Mohwr"

The past week has been a bit traumatic around our house.  Last Thursday morning, a car pulled out right in front of me and totalled our car.  The airbags deployed, the car filling with airbag smoke, and here I was sitting in the driver's seat trying to process what just happened in the past 4 seconds as my 2-year-old flipped out in the back seat.  Ohsothankfully, Rhet and I were both ok--just a few bumps and bruises and some short-term hysterics.

In the middle of trying to figure out all of the icky little details that go down post-collision, Nick and I got to celebrate our 6th wedding anniversary.  Not so fortunately, I received a violent-but-quick stomach flu that had my husband exercising the extent of his true love for me that day with his care-taking.

(I started this post last week, so add one week to my previous timelines!)

We are finally getting back to normal--the bathroom has been cleaned, we're figuring out what we can purchase with the worth of a '98 Camry, and Rhet has stopped talking about the "boom" incident.

One thing Rhet has been talking about, however, has been both irritating the living daylights out of me and convicting my heart...

Rhet has a book called "More, More, More," which she has adored since her very first days with us in Ethiopia.  There are scenarios given with three different children--Little Guy's dad kisses his belly and he says "more, more more!', Little Pumpkin's grandmother kisses her toes and she says "more, more, more!", and finally, Little Bird's mama puts Little Bird to bed, kissing her eyelids as she says "mmm, mmm, mmm."  Sorry for the spoiler.  But it's sweet, right?

Rhet loves to say the last line of each scenario, pronouncing it, "mohwr, mohwr, mohwr!"

"More" was the first sign she was able to communicate with us in Ethiopia.  It was also the first sign she transferred into language when she able.  And lately, it is one of my hot buttons.

It doesn't matter what it is...whenever Rhet experiences something pleasant...a sweet moment, a delicious taste of something, a thrilling ride down a slide, a fun morning at the zoo, a butterfly sighting...before it is even over, she has this habit of saying, "mohwr, mohwr, mohwr, mohwr, mohwr..."  It's not a sweet request--it's more like a frantic whiny chant.  Instead of enjoying what just happened, she freaks out that it will never happen again.

How do you tell a two year-old to just take a deep breath and enjoy what is happening without worrying whether it will happen again?  Her feelings of entitlement to a repeat experience keep her from enjoying the first one!

Conviction time comes, however, when I realize that contentment is difficult for everyone...for me.  How often do I truly enjoy a moment without lamenting that it is almost over or that I'd love to experience it again?  How often do I enjoy what I HAVE without the thoughts about what I could do to make it better?  Particularly in motherhood, it seems that we wish away the mundane, irritating, repetitive moments with young children only to be wistfully standing on the other side wondering where the time went.  (We are discontent with the new stages because we miss the old stages that we spent rushing through to the new stages.  Sounds crazy but familiar, yes?)

I have no idea how to teach my child to enjoy a blessing for what it is except to model it myself.  Which is not always an easy feat!  What I do know from experience this month is that a normal drive to the children's museum may turn out quite differently...grand plans for a romantic evening may end up displaying love in the opposite way.

So this week as you step outside into lovely springtime and thick layers of pollen work their way into every pore in your being and launch a full-body attack, try to appreciate the blooming tulips and the mild breezes...literally and figuratively.

Never Say Never: The g Edition

There are things in life about which you think, "That's a nice idea, and I'd like to do that, but it's never gonna happen."

My list of such things starts like:
- Running a sub-9-minute mile (I'm slow as molasses)
- Going on a ski trip (Bad knees, low funds, I'd rather be at the beach)
- Home-schooling my children (I had to take the same math class three times in college)
- Bathing my dogs and clipping their nails...any time, ever (I'm a wimp and they are wimps...bad combo)
(Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera...)

I could probably tackle each of those things on the above list.  But I just find that my willpower and energy doesn't take me far enough.  At least for the time being...

To "g" or not to "g"...

At one point in life, cloth-diapering would have been on that list.
But somehow, I am doing it this year, and kind of loving it...

Here's the backstory:
I am a lover of all things Method brand.  (Here's proof.)  Many moons ago, they wrote about the creation of a new hybrid cloth diaper called gDiapers.  (A hybrid cloth diaper being one that can contain either a cloth insert or a biodegradable disposable insert.)  These little guys were not only adorable, but eco-friendly and easy on the wallet.  (After initial purchase.)

Then the rush of adoption paperwork came along and I thought to myself, "Nope.  Never gonna happen.  I'll try it with the next kid, but there's no way I have time to figure this out on top of everything else we have going on."  

Then, the wait.  I'm not sure if you remember, but I had a little bit of time to plan for Rhet's arrival.  ;)

I read everything on their website.  Then I read reviews and links.  And I start thinking, "Ok, this might be doable.  I think I can figure this out."

The receiving of the g's

We registered for the products we needed to get started and received them from generous friends and family at our baby showers.  My goal was not to 100% eliminate use of disposable diapers.  My goal was to save money.  (Sorry, Earth, helping you out was just an added bonus for now.)

Also, I did not research other brands or other kinds of CD's (cloth diapers).  Let me tell you, people are fiercely loyal to their CD brands.  Good gracious.  But I just did not have the energy to sift through all of it.  I liked what I knew about the first brand I looked into, so we just went for it.

Obviously, our four weeks spent in Ethiopia were not focused much on saving money.  We went the easy route whenever we could, which meant packing a suitcase full of Pampers.  (Seriously, a whole suitcase.)

When we returned and got over most of the jetlag, I gave the cloth diapering a whirl.  (By then, I felt like superwoman, so it was small potatoes!)

I have to admit, the whole thing can seem intimidating and gross and too labor-intensive, but I have actually found it to be amazingly easy!  Yes, it's a little extra work.  But the extra dollars I save are worth it to me.

I feel the need to insert a disclaimer at this time:
We are all different.  Our children are all different.  What works for me may not work for you.  We live different lifestyles, have different washing machines that use different water types, and our little kiddos' bums have different sensitivities.  If you find this post informative and motivating, SUPER.  But whatever you take away, PLEASE don't let it be guilt that you are not doing enough or not doing it right.  I detest MommyGuilt (which is an entire post for another time), and I am not intending to dish it out here.  I am a stay-at-home momma, which means I have a little extra time (that's relative) and a deficit of cash--FOR ME, cloth diapering has been awesome for us.

Here's how gDiapering works in the Rhet Faris world:

PART A: STORAGE OF CLEAN G'S
I store Rhet's g's in the top two drawers of her dresser.

g Setup

The composition of a gDiaper includes three parts:
(1) the gPant--the soft, cotton, outer pant that velcros in the back
(2) the gLiner--the breathable, but waterproof(ish) liner that snaps inside the gPant
(3) the gCloth/gDisposable--we mostly use cloth, which is microfiber on top and hemp on bottom, and it is stuffed inside the gLiner
Whenever possible, I try to pre-assemple the gDiapers for quick changes.  But often (including today), the gPants are stuffed into the left drawer and the gLiners and gCloths are stuffed into the right drawer.

PART B: USE
I need to confess to you that I am a cheater.  I have not always been a cheater, but my child is just kind of awesome.  One day, a couple months after arriving home, Rhet was in the bathtub and almost...well, you know.  So I whisked her out of the tub and put her on the toilet, pretty much as a reflex.  Not only did she take care of business, she has continued to request to sit on the potty to #2 ever since.

PRE-cheating...I really loved gDiapers' paper liners that come in a little square box--I stored them with the other supplies.  They are really thin and lay right over the top of the gCloth.  When the diaper is dirty, everything slides right into the toilet.  (I'm sorry, I know that's gross but this is the gross part of the run-down.  And ultimately, using the paper liners is LESS gross, because you make the grossness go away.)  Yes, grossness got on the cloth, too.  It just washed right out so it never concerned me much.

And now...well, yes.  I'm a cheater and I only have to wash wet cloth diapers.

Our wetbag is right by the door (and entrance to the bathroom)

PART C: STORAGE OF DIRTY G'S
When I change a gDiaper at home, I most often dump the insert into a wetbag that zips at the top.  It is cloth on the outside and waterproof on the inside.  It is Leslie's Boutique brand and it does an amazing job of keeping in the stink.  I do not rinse my diapers, wet or dirty.

If the diaper has gotten wet/dirty on the liner and/or the outer pant, I unsnap the liner and close the velcro all the way over and throw everything into the wetbag.

When we're out and about when Rhet is wearing cloth diapers, I keep a spare in a quart-sized zip-top plastic bag.  I switch it out with the dirty after it's changed (trying to remember to unsnap the liner and fasten the velcro on the outer pant), and dump it in the wetbag when I get home.

We own:
- 6 gPants (most often they can be reused before washing)
- A bunch of gLiners (too many, really--usually if the liner is wet/dirty, I just wash the pants too...we have all the liners that came with the gPants and then I think I purchased an extra package of gLiners)
- 24 gCloths
(I rarely use the disposable inserts.  They are handy, but I end up using disposable diapers altogether when we go out for long periods of time.  Also, we use disposable diapers at night--I spare no expense when it comes to getting my child to sleep the maximum amount of time possible!)

(We brought Rhet home when she was about 17 months old, so keep in mind a younger child would use more diapers per day.)

PART D: CLEANING
This is the part that most often keeps people from trying CD'ing (too gross/too much work) or drives people to quit CD'ing (can't figure out the right soap, right balance of soap, what type of water they have, how to work with their washer, how to keep diapers from smelling or staining, etc etc).

I had the sheer luck of doing what worked perfectly for us the first time.  In fact, I changed soaps later on, and it ended up messing everything up--I had to strip the diapers of the new soap and go back to my old brand.  I would say this is the most time-consuming part of CD'ing--not the actual cleaning but FIGURING OUT how to clean them so that everything works right.  You have to figure out what temperature you water should be and how much soap is just enough.  You want to make sure your soap is not too strong (irritation) but not too weak (staining).  You have to figure out whether you need to soak your diapers and for how long.  You don't want any soap residue left in your diapers, so you have to figure out how many extra cycles to rinse.

I will put a plug in for my favorite soap: Rockin' Green.  Again, I found a recommendation for it on gDiapers site (among a few other soaps), and after reading the extensive FAQ's on their website, I decided to give them a whirl.  Their customer service is wonderful, and the soap has never done me wrong.

So here is how I clean my diapers  (it may work for you, it may not):
Again, I do not rinse the diapers before storing them in the wetbag.  (I try to touch them as little as possible, actually.  Icky.)  I wait until the wetbag gets full, which takes 2-4 days, depending on how often I've been "supplementing" with disposable diapers.

1. I dump the contents of the wetbag into the washer and then toss the wetbag in too.

2. Depending on how stinky the diapers are, sometimes I give them a good soak.  In the old days, I would soak them in my Classic Rock soap for an hour or so with hot water.  These days, the diapers usually have an ammonia smell if they've been in the bag long enough (particularly because there are only wet diapers in there), so my usually method is to dump them in, fill up with hot water, and add some Funk Rock for about an hour.

3. Then I run the contents through the rinse cycle.  (I have a super simple/cheap washer & dryer, so I just turn the dial to the end to force it into the rinse cycle.)  If the diapers are not extra-stinky, I start with this step, filling with hot water for the rinse.

4. After rinsing, I start the wash cycle over again (with hot water) and add my Classic Rock soap.  I let the washer run through the whole cycle.

5. After the complete cycle has finished, I force one rinse cycle with cold water again.  The end.

6. DO NOT WASH OR DRY YOUR CLOTH DIAPERS WITH FABRIC SOFTENER.  (It will royally mess them up--it basically keeps them from absorbing anything.)  I throw everything into the dryer (sans liners, which I lay out on top of the dryer) WITHOUT any type of dryer sheet (I use the Bounce dryer bar right now, so I slide it out of the dryer when I'm washing CD's and towels) and I run a regular drying cycle.  I used to hang the gPants to dry (to preserve their bright colors and extend their life), but then I got lazy and ended up preferring the way the drying them makes them softer.

So that's it.  I attribute our success with CD'ing to finding a great brand (gDiapers), finding a great soap (Rockin' Green), making sure that I use the minimum amount of soap needed specially created for the type of water we have, making sure I rinsing/pre-rinsing enough to help with odors and residue.

(Also, make sure to clean out your washer regularly as well!)

gDiapers comes in various sizes.  Rhet was a "medium" when she first came home, and she has since graduated to a "large," where she will most likely stay until she doesn't need them anymore.

Although the supplies are a big investment (and it does MAJOR help to add them in your registry!), disposable diapers are so stinkin' expensive.  Pun intended.  Hope I helped you do a little homework to take the plunge and save yourself some long-term expenses!  

And Now You Know...

We have some sweet Memphis friends who are in Ethiopia this week to bring home their new daughter, AKA Rhet's new bestie.  My feelings about our life eight months ago have been flooding my heart as I read their emails from Addis Ababa.

I love the way the three of us became a family, but something unique about adopting our first child internationally is that I am mostly incapable of separating our adoption experiences from my parenting experiences.  For example, becoming a mother changed my life.  But so did my time in Ethiopia.  Diving head-first into the world of a 16-month-old was quite jarring, but I'm guessing birthing a baby and diving head-first into infantdom is not smooth sailing either...  {wink, wink}  The transition of teaching our daughter to trust us, of proving ourselves to her as faithful and good, was both precious and challenging altogether.  Is it different than the patience required of a constantly crying newborn?  I have no way of knowing...

I guess that's the way everyone's life is.  You just know what you know.

On the subject of adoption, here's what I know that you can now know too...

1. Did you know that the phrase "put up for adoption" came from the orphan train days when children were actually put up on auction blocks to be sold into families?  Kind of a negative connotation.  A more appropriate phrase is that the parent "made an adoption plan."  Or the child was "placed for adoption."

2. While we're on the etiquette of language, please, please, PLEASE consider adopted children "our own" children.  I know what you mean when you ask if I have or will have children "of my own."  But the phrase implies that Rhet is not my child.  If you're extra defensive, you might even want to argue that Rhet is NOT "my" child.  But see, that is where you are wrong.  She is not my biological child.  But she is MY child.  A judge in Ethiopia looked me in the eye in May of 2011, making sure I knew what she said could not be reversed, and then she told us, "Congratulations.  She is YOURS."  While I try to extend as much grace as possible when the phrase is used (after all, you only know what you know, right?), a better way to phrase what you mean would be "biological child" or "giving birth."  As in: "Do you have any children through birth/biological children?"  (And by the way, "Do you plan to have biological children in the future?" is a very personal question that is probably not your business, unless you are my dear friend.)

On a similar note, it is not necessary to distinguish between adopted and biological members of the family when you are discussing or introducing them.  ("This is their adopted daughter, Rhet.")  First of all, I'm pretty sure most people know Rhet is adopted when they see her with us.  (I do not tan well.  Ha.)  And more importantly, it doesn't matter.  Our adopted child is just...our child.

3. When we first arrived home with Rhet at the end of the summer, these are the things I craved:
- An encouraging voicemail, email, or card without expectation of a response
- Food in any form with a quick hello and exit
- Grace and understanding

My time in Ethiopia was adventurously tough.  It was difficult to become a mother in a third-world country without anything familiar and without simple luxuries.  However, bringing Rhet to the US was adventurously tough for HER.  She was still becoming our daughter in a brand new country without anything familiar to HER and without the smells, sights, and sounds she was used to.  The time zone was all wonky.  The weather was unbearably hot (especially when we came from the "winter" season in Addis).  Everyone looked at her as if they'd known her for months (because they had), but she didn't know a soul except for us.  And she didn't really even know us very well--she was still trying to discern in her little 17-month brain if she even liked us and found us trust-worthy.

She was completely terrified of our dogs, whom she met after her first weekend at home with us.  (They had been at the vet, and we brought them home on Monday--unfortunately, the jet-lag and schedules did not match up and Nick brought the dogs home while Rhet was taking a forever-long nap.  Neither party knew the other existed in the very house in which they lay.  Until we woke Rhet up for dinner and she was dismayed to learn that there were two huge animals in her living room.  And they were dismayed to learn they had been demoted in family status!)

Because of her fear of our big sweet dog-children and overwhelming feelings due to transitioning into a new culture and family in general, Rhet required that we hold her in our arms for the first four weeks or so.  (I would now like to dedicate the feeling in my arms to the Ergo company for making such a life-saving baby carrier!)  I told close friends that I likened my life to joining a very expensive gym--every morning I would wake up, summon up my energy and courage and say "Let's do this," and I would work out harder than I ever had before.  At the end of the day, I fell into bed (it took me at least two months to regain the ability to stay awake past 9pm), with positive feelings of accomplishment, thinking I had just had the best/worst workout ever.

After about six months, I could finally cook dinner in the kitchen while Rhet watched a television show in the room next to me, running in every few minutes or so to check on me.  We've just hit seven months since we've come home with Rhet, and she is stilling learning to feel comfortable playing on her own or being in a different room.  I threw a birthday party for a two-year-old last week when it felt like I had an 8-month-old!

I have no idea which of my experiences in those first months were universal to all new mothers and which were unique to adoption.  All I know is that it was/has been an incredibly sweet and challenging time.  My communication with friends has been pretty much non-existant as I've hunkered down and devoted most of my time and energy to this transition, which has caused occasional guilt and loneliness.

I say all of this to say: encouragement, grace, and understanding are the sweetest gifts I've received!  And they are the sweetest gifts you can give to a new adoptive mom...probably any new mom?

4. You can not adopt on accident.  It's true.  And therefore, there is a lot (a LOT) of preparation and effort that goes into the adoption process.  Some of that includes education and research.  So when you hear some hair-brained idea from me about how we are choosing to parent our child, please do not treat us like crazy people.

For example: We asked that friends and extended family not hold Rhet, comfort her, feed her, or meet any basic need of hers for several months after we returned home with her.  I know, I know.  It just sounds WEIRD.  But there was a reason.  When a child has been with many other children in an orphanage, receiving care from many nannies, there are two things that have undoubtedly occured:

(1) That child at some point in time (and most likely many points in time) needed something.  Food, drink, a diaper change, affection, consoling, etc.  And that child either had to wait to have that need met (until after other children were attended to or until she was noticed) or it was never met at all.  The child learned that she could not trust people to meet her needs.

(2) When a child had a birth parent and then experienced loss of that birth parent, and then had multiple adults caring for her, she learned that caregivers change and go away.

In order to establish in Rhet's tiny toddler mind that we were her new parents...that we were the people she would look to to meet her needs and that we could be trusted to stick around forever...it was necessary for us to prove ourselves.  We had to show her, "Look, Mommy & Daddy fed you this morning, this afternoon, and this evening.  And we will do it again tomorrow and the day after that.  When you cried, we picked you up and soothed your hurting heart.  When you needed clothes or a diaper change, we helped you as quickly as we could.  We love you and we are not going anywhere."  The only way to show her that was to put ourselves in a position to be "her people."  So see?  There is a good reason for those weird requests and parenting styles.  It is good for our child, even if it was inconvenient for us or offensive/strange to those around us.

(Just the other day, I politely asked a well-meaning stranger at the playground to let me be the one to guide my child back and forth from the slides and up the stairs--I explained that I had adopted her and was still trying to teach her to come to me for help.  She drew her hand away from Rhet as if I had just accused her of child abuse.  I felt bad, but I also saw the way Rhet was looking at her as if she was a third grandparent.  And how else can I teach my child who a stranger is?)

I am a people-pleaser, and therefore it pains me to inconvenience others or worse, to offend them.  So in turn, any support and encouragement I've received about the special pains we take to do the best thing for our child has gone a LONG way.

---

I can't wait to share the joy of our friends' daughter's homecoming at the end of this week.  Even though their experiences will be different, I do know that they will be exhausted, overjoyed, relieved, overwhelmed, and ready to settle into their new normal.  I am ready to support them as best as I know how.

And now that you know what you know, you can support your favorite adoptive families too.  :)

Happy Face Day!

A little over a year ago, we saw the face of this cutie-pie:

On January 13th of this year, we decided to start a new family tradition: Face Day. We will celebrate the day we saw a picture of our child(ren) for the first time, be it referral pictures or ultrasound pics.

Face Day was celebrated with face cupcakes (glazed donut cupcakes!)...

...and a special gift that will be "refreshed" each year on Face Day!

Each number also coordinates with past 12 months of pictures we have of sweet Rhet, starting with Face Day.

I'm such a sucker for traditions and celebrations. They don't have to be costly or extravagant to be special!