Oh yeah!

This picture is to give you an idea of how much snow we have at our house!! (This is my ten year old. I think she's 4 feet 4 inches or something like that.) Fun!!

(Except when I tried to drive Huz's rear wheel drive sedan yesterday and made it about ten houses before a neighbor had to help me get unstuck. I shouldn't have even tried it.)

Tonight I indulged myself and instead of doing laundry or dishes, I pulled out my sewing machine and started a quilt. It's a quick one made with minkee material. Oooh so soft. I really love to sew. And I really really really love to collect fabric (with intentions to sew:) Hopefully I'll be finished with it tomorrow!

Today a couple of funny things were said by my kids. This is one of my favorite things about being a parent.

Three: She was singing the song "Hero" by Enrique Iglesias. She sang, "You can take my wife away." One and I looked at each other and started laughing. I told her the right word is breath and she thought it was funny, too.

Four: Had an itchy back. She was having me scratch it for her when all of a sudden she rolled over and held her leg up. "Scratch my leg armpit, mom." aka under my knee. hahaha

Three: had her feelings hurt by Two and came to me to complain about it. "Mom, she made me so sad that my heart hurts (holding hand dramatically over heart). I can't even feel it beeping any more." Soooo funny. She meant beating but also funny that she thought her heart would stop because she was so sad that Two didn't share.

as a side note:

I'm still collecting gloves and mittens for the 300 orphans with cold hands in the Matveevka Orphanage in Ukraine.

(see post titled "Phone Call and Help Wanted)

I haven't even had time to go to the store to buy some since I posted about this so if you still want to get me some gloves, I haven't sent them yet and probably won't until the end of next week. Thanks. You rock. Happy New Year!

Go and Do Something Today

When I was pregnant with Two I had one of those life changing experiences. I seem to have had lots of these-I guess my life needs a lot of changing:)

I do not have easy pregnancies. Two's was the worst. I was on bed rest for half the pregnancy, had injections every other day, couldn't gain weight (wish I had that problem now), and threw up no less than 10 times a day. No exaggeration. Hmmm. That doesn't sound so bad written out. Trust me. It was my personal hell.

One Tuesday during this pregnancy, I was in my car driving through my neighborhood to my home (I think I had picked up One from play group) and I passed another neighbor's house. This neighbor had just been diagnosed with an illness and had a young child that was fighting cancer. (I know, dead give away to anyone from this neighborhood) I noticed their front yard flower beds were without flowers and a bit weedy. I felt Heavenly Father prompt me to weed their yard and then go buy some flowers for them and plant them.

I'm sad to say that I didn't listen.

I told myself that I was too sick. And I was really sick. One needed a nap. She really did. I was worried that the afternoon heat would send me to hospital for more fluids. It probably would have. We didn't really have extra money to be buying flowers for other peoples yards. There were a million reasons why I should not do this. The problem is that I didn't know the reason why I should do this. Now. I should add that this "prompting" I had wasn't a flash of lightning angelic voice whispering into my ear type of prompting. That would've been easy to follow. Nope. Instead, the prompting I had was more like a little thought that popped into my head-it even sounded like my own voice. It made it easy to justify not doing. After all, it was more like an idea I had rather than a prompting. I decided to go home and wait until Thursday to do this. At that time I would have gone to the hospital for my shot, had time for it to kick in, bought flowers for planting and been able to get out nice and early in the morning before it was too hot. This was a perfect plan. It made more sense than doing it right then. A lot more sense. I felt comfortable with my decision and looked forward to doing this secret little act of service on Thursday.

And then...

Wednesday afternoon I saw another neighbor at the first neighbor's house

WEEDING AND PLANTING FLOWERS!!!!!

I'm pretty sure my jaw dropped open. I remember thinking, "I was supposed to do that!" As in, "hey! that was my idea!" And then I heard that little voice again that sounds a lot like mine. But this time I knew without a doubt that it was His voice. And do you know what He said? "Yeah, you were supposed to do that." As in, "but you didn't so I had to get someone else to do it instead." And He wasn't mad. It was just sort of matter-of-fact. A little disappointed.

I have no idea why that flower bed needed to be weeded before Thursday. I have never even shared this story with these neighbors, although I have shared it with countless others. The point, though, is that I might not know why something needs to happen. I may never find out. It may seem meaningless and insignificant or overwhelming and impossible. It may seem like there is a better time, place or person for the job. But that's because I can't see the big picture. The one that is being drawn by God. I can't see that he is using me to answer the prayer of another, or touch the heart of someone, inspire another or even bless me. My job is to simply trust that the things put in front of me are those that He wants and needs me to do. Right then. Not when it's more convenient or logical. I've tried to live by this ever since then and my life is the one that has been blessed, not those I have helped. A hundred times over.

"I expect to pass through this world but once. Any good therefore that I can do, or any kindness that I can show to any fellow-creature, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again."

Steven Grellet

HEROS

I pulled my last post off. It was nice to be able to have let it out and I appreciate the support I received from so many. It's nice to know we're not alone:) Anyhow, I just wanted to pull it off so that I didn't have to see it when I came on here. Enough with the negativity, right?! Onward, upward.

My kids have been into Shrek the past couple weeks. They asked me to download some songs from the movie onto our iPod. One such song has a very dear place in my heart. You may be familiar with it:

"Holding Out for a Hero"

the Bonnie Tyler version.

Rock out! A few years ago I was asked, along with two other women, to be in charge of a camp for our church for a little over 300 girls ages 12 to about 16. We chose the theme "HEROS". Yes, I know that it's spelled wrong. That's because it was an acronym for "Help Everyone Return to Our Savior." This drove one of the three of us nuts as she is a teacher and not spelling heroes correctly and leaving out one of the letters from the phrase for the acronym about put her over the edge-love you Sue. Anyhow, on one of the nights, each group was to prepare a skit with the theme in mind. We were hoping for funny with a meaning, you know. The girls all did great, but the grand finale was provided by us leaders along with the president of the organization and one of her counselors as our backup dancers. At the last minute we asked the cooks to join us because they were so hilarious. The cooks were our backup singers.

We had a truck deliver us in front of the stage, we had a spotlight, and of course we were in costume. The three of us main leaders were in vinyl super hero costumes that we had made, pink, orange and yellow. (Not all mixed together, each of us only wore one) The president and her counselor and the cooks had costumes, too, carefully made from left over vinyl, black garbage sacks and duct tape. They looked hot.

The Bonnie Tyler version of the song has this awesome ooh-ing and instrumental beginning that we dramatically entered the stage during. We had choreographed the whole thing and changed the words to fit our theme. It was soooo fun!! My favorite memories of camping with church throughout my life always include the skit night.

So, my kids love listening to this song because of Shrek and every time I hear it I can instantly see all of us on stage. Our awesome president had even written on her face, with marker, the word "HEROS". Except she did it looking in the mirror so it was backwards and so were the letters. I about peed my pants laughing when she came out of the bathroom to show us her ensemble. She is the coolest lady ever.

And so, before I go, I ask you:

Who is your hero? Do they help you return to our Savior, Jesus Christ? And I don't just mean at the end of life, I mean every day. Do you seek after heroes who leave you with a desire to return to our Savior with your daily thoughts and actions? I have a sign on my fridge from that camp that says "HEROS" inside the superman shape. Every time I see it I remember that camp. Some days it makes me roll my eyes because I feel guilty/annoyed that my actions are not aligned with that goal. Some days it makes me laugh and strike a pose. Every day, though, even if it's for just a second I reflect on wether or not I'm "returning" to my Savior.

And just in case you didn't quite get the visual with my written descriptions:

Click on this last picture to enlarge to see "HERO" written backwards on the face of the lady all the way to the right:)

Traditions

Yesterday was long. As most days, it started early and ended late. I had two meetings yesterday that were long and draining yet productive. For that I am very grateful. Unfortunately due to the tight schedule and overall craziness of the day, I forgot to call the boys in the morning. When I realized this mid morning, I felt terrible. Hopefully they are well.

The night ended with our magic rabbit escaping his cage once again. Our neighbors called a little after 11 to let us know that he was over in their yard. Huz went over to catch him with the help of said awesome neighbor. Seriously. This rabbit is magic. There is a boulder sitting in front of his cage, blocking the door, and he still somehow gets out. I can barely move this huge rock. At least the rabbit has his "favorite" places to go when he is free and at least none of our backyard wild animals have caught him before we did. That would be a disaster.

Today I am remembering a Christmas tradition my mom started with us. It is by far my favorite childhood Christmas tradition. We would choose one or two families to secretly do the 12 Days of Christmas for. It was a riot. Literally. And bless my dear mom. There were five kids in our family. I am the oldest. My dad was out of the town most of the time. My mom would coordinate the gifts (often a baked good or hot chocolate or some other little treat) and the delivery. This was done in the day prior to caller ID. Most days we would drop the gift at the door, ring the bell and run. I say we but for several years it was usually my brother and me as my sisters were too little to run the necessary speed to avoid being caught. As the days progressed and we were feeling the heat of the possibility of being caught we would shake things up by placing a mysterious phone call to the recipient telling them in a garbled voice to check their mailbox. This continued for the twelve days prior to Christmas and would end with us caroling on our secret family's front porch. We loved hearing people speculate who was visiting them. We even loved when they tried to catch us. Except the one time when we actually did get caught. We were devastated. All of us kids cried. Looking back now, that is pretty funny.

My favorite drop off was to my brother's friend and his family. They lived in our neighborhood, but far enough away still that most nights my mom would wait in the "pick-up" van 5 or 6 houses away. This family was a little intimidating. The dad's name was Butch. And they had a crazed hunting dog. What were we thinking?! So, my brother and I climb the steps to the house, set down the gift, go down as many stairs as we can while still reaching the door bell and ring. As we run down the rest of the steps, we hear the garage start to go up and Butch yell to the dog, "Get 'em boy!" (Now, lest you think our neighbor was truly evil, he was likely having as much fun trying to catch us as we were trying to not be caught) I remember the look of horror on my brother's face as we raced toward the driveway, watching the dog's nose and body try to squeeze through the opening of the garage door, barking. My brother dove under a truck that sat in the drive and I followed. We grabbed onto car parts and hung from them so that our bodies were not on the ground. The dog was going crazy. It seemed like an eternity. Us hanging from the underside of the truck, Butch patrolling the driveway and bushes yelling at the dog to get us, the dog standing by the truck barking incessantly. In the end, Butch and the dog finally went inside and my brother and I decided it was safe enough to run for home. Good times.

Fireworks

Two days ago I decided to make cookies. I do this way too often. I turned on the oven to preheat it and started putting butter in my mixer. Something caught the corner of my eye. I looked down and my oven was GLOWING. Not like the inside light was on, but some very unnatural, ultra bright glow. I yanked the oven open and

IT WAS ON FIRE!!

Little mini explosions coming off the element. I hurried and reached over to cut the power to the oven all the while thinking to myself that I couldn't remember what you are supposed to do for electrical fires. Fortunately, as soon as there was no more power, the fire started to go out on its own. A few minutes later it was out completely.

We later found out that the "element" went out. The element is the burner on the bottom. The man that repaired it for us said that it is not super common for the element to go out-ours is only 5 years old and has probably only had about 3 years of use total. He also said that it is most commonly caused by a self-clean. My thoughts on this were that I hadn't been cleaning the oven and it is pretty new. It could happen to anybody. It's a good thing that I was standing right there because it literally happened in a matter of 30 seconds. If I hadn't been right there to cut the power, it could have spread quickly. Sometimes I'll hit preheat and start a load of wash while I'm waiting or something. Anyhow, be careful when you are using your oven to stay close by. Be safe and happy holiday baking!!

P.S. I'm collecting gloves for the Matveevka Orphanage in Ukraine (see the post from yesterday). There are 300 kids there, ages 5 to 16 and none of them have gloves or mittens!! It is really cold there, too. Freezing actually. If you are able to donate a pair, let me know. We need them for boys and girls and lots of different sizes. I will ship all of them. Thanks!

Phone Call and Help Wanted!!

p.s. (added after the original post) I should add that these kids are very small, generally. Mittens are also acceptable. Also, if you have a picture of you or your family to include with the gloves, that would be great. These kids love, love photos. Not at all necessary, but they would love it.

We talked to BoyOne yesterday. BoyTwo had already gone in for dinner. We can't seem to get a good connection when we do a 3 way call with a translator so lately we have just been calling ourselves and stumbling through a conversation. Yesterday, though, we had our translator call them separately and then we called after to follow up. We had our translator tell them some things and ask them a few questions for us.

We, of course, are always concerned with their safety and health. We asked if they were being treated well. Their answer? "We are being treated as we are normally treated." So, what does that translate too? I guess that means that maybe they are being treated the way they are used to in the orphanage, but by our standards? Probably not "well." At least probably not as well as we would hope. I mean, good grief. There are 300 kids there. That's quite the crowd. Are they healthy? "Yes, mami." Said kind of like, of course, mom, lame question. Are they being safe and careful? "Yes, yes." Said like, "I promise. I'm being safe!"

We told them that I am trying to learn to speak Russian. I think they kind of figured that out. Every time I talk to them I show off my new skills. They range from reciting their alphabet, to counting, to saying "My name is Stephanie. I'm pleased to meet you," to asking if they could tell me where the bathroom is. BoyOne thinks this is pretty funny. After I say something I hear him say to his friends, "Mami: a, b, c, d, e." And then they all laugh. BoyOne told the translator that it was good that I was learning Russian because we are very hard to understand. We thought that was funny.

We told them we sent them each a package. They were glad to hear that. What kid doesn't want to get a package in the mail, right?

They asked if we could come to Ukraine to see them for Christmas? Hahaha. Yeah, I wish we could just hop on a plane and jet over there for a few days. That would be fabulous. I'd actually LOVE to spend a Christmas in an orphanage. We'll have to wait until my kids are a little older. We'll start saving now:)

These next parts break my heart.

BoyOne says that BoyTwo is always saying, "mami, mami, mami, mami." And he says it in this sad little voice. He did not want to go back to Ukraine. Poor little kid.

And finally. We asked if it was snowing. They said, "Yes." We asked if they still played outside. They said, "Yes." We asked if they had coats and hats and gloves. They said they had coats and hats.

No gloves.

People. It gets bitter cold there. Like in the teens. As the season progresses, even colder. So I am going to start collecting gloves for the kids. As I said before, there are about 300 of them at that orphanage. Their ages range from 5 to 16. Boys and girls both.

None of them have gloves!!!

I will ship the gloves over. If you or anyone you know wants to donate a pair of gloves, please let me know!!! If you live in my old neighborhood and want to give me a pair, I am still up that way every Monday and Friday. Please. Tell everyone you know. You can get a pair of gloves at Wal-Mart for $7. I just bought a pair there. I want to send them by January 1. I know it's not long to collect but it is freezing cold and the shipping takes a while.

Please, please, please.

In the Orphanage

I went through our pictures that were taken when the boys were here visiting. It brought back a lot of good memories. We sure miss them. It has been great talking to them.

I remembered some things that I found out while they were here that I thought I would share.

1) In the orphanage the kids sleep with the lights on. After BoyOne would get tucked in, we'd shut off the lights (we had a night light in their room so they could see where they were). Later, before we went to bed, we'd make the rounds and check on all the kids. The light in the boys room was always on. At first we thought this was because BoyOne turned the light back on because he wasn't ready to go to sleep and then simply fell asleep with it on. Later we asked through a translator if the lights stayed on at night in the orphanage. They told us they did. It makes sense, I guess. You've got to be able to keep an eye on all those sleeping kiddos. But at the same time it makes me sad that they don't even get to have the lights out at night. They could at least make it dark so that it would be easier to imagine themselves someplace else, you know?

2) Our boys didn't use tissue to blow their noses. We never confirmed that this was common practice at the orphanage, but given the fact that we had plenty of tissues available at our house while they were here and they still used their "alternate method" we suspect this is the case. Either that or we have heard the toilet paper there is horrible and they just opt not to use it. So how then, one might ask, did they blow their cute little noses? I know right now you are thinking farmer blow. If you don't know what that is, you are lucky. It is sick. But not as sick as what they did. They would turn the sink on and put their fingers up to their noses and take a deep breath. The first time I witnessed this I thought they were going to plug their nose and stick their head under the running water to wash their face. Nope. They take that deep breath and hold their fingers to their noses as if they actually had tissue and then they blow, wiping the snot off their fingers in the running water in between blows. I have some weird quirks. I can handle blood, barf, poop, rodents, snakes, chaos. But I become physically ill when I have to deal with (get ready to laugh at me) spiders, sock lint, shredded paper or boogers. Needless to say when I saw this I immediately began dry heaving.

I hate thinking of them asleep in their shared bedroom (not shared with each other but with 10-12 other boys) with the lights on. I hate thinking that nobody kisses their foreheads after they fall asleep. I hate thinking of them waking up and not having someone to hug them and say that they love them and are so glad to see them. I hate thinking that on Christmas I'll be sitting next to my fire place with my kids all around me playing with their new gifts, knowing that in the orphanage they're likely getting, at best, one gift and that their "family" is a bunch of other kids who need love and support as much as they do. I hate that when I talk to them on the phone I don't know what to say. "How's life at the orphanage" or "Do you miss us" just doesn't bring those warm fuzzies. I try to ask if they are healthy and ask about the weather there. Then I tell them about our weather and share some of my new Russian phrases. What a lame conversation. We shoot the breeze, but I feel weird knowing that I'm where I'm at and that they are there. That being said, we all still really like talking to each other:) It just makes my heart heavy to think of them with so little and me with sooooo much. I try to remind myself that at least they are being fed and have a roof over their heads, but it just seems so shallow.

Ups and Downs

Now, I know that just because you are a good person you won't be spared trials and heart ache and opposition. In fact, possibly because your are a good person a certain someone (Satan) targets you in an attempt to derail any good that you may bring to pass.

I like to think of analogies a lot. It helps me when I can visualize and compare things. Well, I was in need of an analogy a while back. There were a lot of crazy and seemingly unfair things happening all around me to good people. I was asked to give a talk in church about the scriptural account that takes place in Joshua, chapter six. If you are unfamiliar with the story, here it is in a nutshell: Good guys outside a big, powerful city. City surrounded by a big, strong wall with bad guys inside. God tells good guys to "take" the city and gives them some weird instructions. Good guys were to march around the city once each day for six days. There were certain requirements for the march that I will not include. Then, on the seventh day, this was to be repeated seven times and on the last time the good guys would shout and the city walls would fall down. (I wonder how many of these soldiers were thinking that Joshua, their captain, had lost his mind.) Well, they did it and guess what. The walls fell down and the city was conquered. Sweet. What does this have to do with any of the above? The walls falling down were a pretty big miracle, at least in my book. In our days of trial, heartache and opposition there are many people who are looking for a miracle. I, myself, have wondered at times, "Where is the miracle? When will the 'walls of the city fall down?'" The secret is that there are miracles taking place. All around us. Every day. The trick is learning to recognize them as such. They may not be as obvious as a city wall falling down, but miracles nonetheless.

What are the miracles in your life? Is it being able to get out of bed each day? Is it having a conversation with one of your kids? Is it finally understanding something you have been struggling with? Is it being able to leave your kid in nursery and not have the leaders come get you out of class? Is it sending your child to school and having them come home not in tears? A healed or healing relationship? A desire to simply be better? All of these things have at one time or another been a serious miracle for me. Without knowing the details of these situations, these events seem pretty insignificant but I will be the first to tell you that I dropped to my knees and thanked God when they happened.

So, now I'm going to share the analogy that I found. The one I mentioned earlier. Have you ever seen the printout from a heart monitor? Straight line=bad. Lots of ups and downs=good. And so it is with life. When nothing is happening, it's generally not good. We're not going anywhere or learning anything. With the ups and downs we are enabled to learn and to grow. The ups and downs show us that we are alive and that life is continuing on for us. It's all good. Hang in there, the miracle will come. Watch for it and be careful you don't miss out on it while you are busy looking for what you think you need.

Здравствуйте!

Hello!

That's what that big long word up there says. In Russian. I decided to learn Russian. I really like foreign languages, even though I only speak English. I used to be fairly fluent in Spanish, but then I lost it. That's what happens when you never speak it. First you can't remember the words to speak. Before you know it, you can't even understand it anymore. It's like touching your toes. You can so easily reach them, you think you'll never not be able to. Well, guess what. You turn 30, your kid asks you if you can reach your toes and you say "of course" and start to bend over. You feel this weird burning sensation that you realize is muscles that haven't been used in forever being stretched. You push a little harder and feel the blood run toward your head. You grunt a little and open your eyes so you can see your fingers touch your toes except when you open your eyes and focus you realize you are touching YOUR KNEES!!!! What in the world happened?!

Anyhow... when the boys were here a funny thing happened. I think it's natural for most people to talk slower than usual or louder than usual when speaking to someone who doesn't speak their language, as if it may help the person understand them. (Great story: Huz's awesome 92 year old grandma was eating dinner with some Germans one time about 15 years ago and was trying to ask them if they would like some corn. She said, "The Indians call it maize." hahahahaha. That always makes me laugh.) For whatever weird reason I somehow managed to pull from the cobwebs of my dormant brain Spanish. I would first say it in English, as BoyOne actually understood more than I had expected. Then he would say, "BoyOne no speak English." Then, instead of speaking slower or louder, I would start speaking in Spanish. What?!? A language I had not spoken in twelve years?! I didn't even know that I knew those words any more. BoyOne would say "BoyOne no speak..." and kind of hold his hands out like "Lady, what language is that?" You want to know what's even weirder? When I try to speak Spanish intentionally, I can't remember anything?! When I talk to the boys on the phone though, it falls out of my mouth. So weird.

Back to the original intent of the post. I found this fabulous website, russianlessons.com, that teaches Russian for FREE folks!! It is written and parts of it are audio. Jackpot! I love it. I started to feel smart again. I rediscovered my brain:) Russian is fabulous because each letter makes only one sound, unlike the English language (i.e. c says both kuh and sss) so everything is phonetic! It's so easy to read! And they don't mince words either. We say, "Please pass the butter." They say "Butter please." They don't use words like she or the. I have learned their alphabet, their numbers and basic phrases and restaurant language. By the way, they don't have a song that they sing their alphabet to, so I borrowed "Itsy Bitsy Spider." It works great and made it sooo much easier for me to remember.

In a nutshell, I'm happy to know that I can still remember things besides how to put on a diaper (someone else's, not mine) and these lessons are giving me something to do when I don't feel like doing laundry.

I also want to thank everybody for your support through this adventure. Thank you also for all of your sweet comments and phone calls and texts. It's nice to know that there are people out there and that maybe we all have something in common. Maybe even more than we thought.

Good night and happiness to all!

Who Do You Help

A long time ago, okay, well, 6 1/2 years ago, I met an old roommate of mine for lunch. We hadn't seen each other for 9 years (yikes!). We each had 2 kids, girls, of course, and we made our lunch date into kind of a play date. Two was only about 6 months old. It's important to note that she was an extremely difficult baby. And that is an understatement.

After we played at a farm with our kids and caught up on each other's lives we sat down for a quick bite to eat. At the end of our lunch Two was FREAKING out. I was trying to pack up my stuff, hold her and feed her a bottle at the same time. My girlfriend offered to hold her for me. Being young and proud I declined. She sat and watched me for a couple minutes and then simply stood up and took Two out of my arms saying something that changed my life,

"If we don't help each other, who do we help?"

That simple question would end up being literally one of the most profound things I had ever heard. My initial thought as I stuffed things into the diaper bag was, "Duh, have you heard of Africa?" But for the next few weeks that question haunted me. Over and over it echoed in my head. "If we don't help each other, who do we help?"

For the first week I thought of the hundreds of very real problems all over the world that needed help. I was irritated because I didn't have the means or the education to do anything about it. The second week I watched everyone around me. I saw all the material things they had, their happiness, their lifestyle and was so sure that certainly the question did not apply to me. The place I lived was just fine. There were no needs. I just knew I had to help people far away. But how? The third week I humbled myself a little and asked God over and over what he wanted me to do about this. After all, I figured with as often as the question entered my thoughts, He must have been putting it there.

That is when the change happened. I finally resigned myself to "helping each other." I began praying for opportunities to help other people. This wasn't anything new, but this time I was almost challenging God. Not really the best attitude to have with the big guy. I wanted Him to show me what to do and who to help, if in fact I was to help those around me. Let me tell you, it didn't take long at all before I started to have these opportunities. What I realized is that everyone puts on their church clothes to go to church. By that I mean most people aren't going to look like they need help or even ask for it. I began to have some very personal experiences with God guiding me through them. It was a fabulous journey that I am still on. Early on in this experiment (if that's what you want to call it) I was kind of putting God to the test. I don't really recommend this-He is always right. One time I made an extra dinner not knowing who was going to need it and honestly thinking that nobody would because everyone in my neighborhood was just fine, remember? When it was ready I hopped in my car and started to drive around waiting to know who the dinner was for. He told me. I wasn't expecting it either. I took the dinner to the door and the lady that answered asked me how I knew she needed help. I was amazed. Wow, I thought. I hadn't even humbly prayed to be led to this person yet here I was. After that I had a little talk with God. I told him I was sorry I was such a little snot. Sorry that I thought I knew better. Sorry that I hadn't even realized that my help was needed here in my very neighborhood. I asked Him (sincerely and humbled this time) to please allow me to continue having opportunities to serve. It became a new kind of game where I was excited to find out from Him what my next little assignment was. Like I said, I have had some very personal experiences. I have also been the recipient of these kinds of services. Times where I was in need and praying for help and God literally called on the phone or knocked at the door in the form of a friend, neighbor, or acquaintance.

So, this holiday season while I wish I was in Ukraine adopting 4 million kids and changing the world, I will look, with God's help, for those service opportunities right here in my own backyard.

WOO-HOO!!!!!!!!!!!

We talked to the boys this morning!!!

It was so fun!!! I know I'm using a lot of exclamation points, but I'm excited!! BoyOne and BoyTwo were together so we were able to speak to both of them. It was great to hear their voices. They both sounded great and happy to have a phone call. It was so great to cute to hear them saying our names, "Mami, Papi," and the girls and pets names.

We did a 3 way call with a translator. Not sure why, but when the line picked up in Ukraine, our friend that was translating for us could barely be heard. He could hear us and the Ukraine line just fine, but nobody could hear him. So, without being able to hear a translator our conversation was a little limited. BoyOne wanted to talk to the girls, but One and Two were at school. He talked to Four for a minute. It was cute. Man, we miss them. We'll have to try it again and see if we can get a better connection with our translator so we can have an actual conversation.

I hope they are warm and happy and feeling well. Wish they were still here.

Four

How do you drink hot chocolate?

(I know I already posted today, but we just returned from sledding and I had to put this on too)

Did You Know...

Did you know that porcupines climb trees?

Or that their quills are very hard to get out of a dog?

Hard to Sleep

I'm having a hard time sleeping. This is usually NOT a problem. It definitely is not because I am not tired. My mind races. It's like a great big Nascar race inside my head.

When I pray before I go to bed I pray for BoyOne and BoyTwo. And good grief. I can think of soooooooo many things to pray for concerning them. Where do you even start?! I pray for their health, that they will stay warm, that they will be able to learn, that they will remember happiness, the list goes on and on. I imagine it might be like a prayer a mother of a missionary would offer. The kids are in this strange land, I can't get to them or talk to them. Who knows if they are even getting my letters. You start to think of all the little itty bitty things.

The other night I had a weird momentary dream that there was a fire. I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. After checking on my girls, I lay in bed thinking of all the injustices in the world and trying to determine what, if anything, I could possibly do. I talked to my cousin the other night. I told her about a program I know of that helps kids phasing out of foster care here in the US and about another program that helps kids who "graduate" from an orphanage. I told her maybe that's what they need in Ukraine. We both said I have 3 years to figure it out. Three years because that is when BoyOne will "graduate."

Then, when I tried to sleep, I thought to myself "what about the other kids that "graduate" before then?"

And then I stayed awake for a really long time and prayed some more.

Snow!!!

This morning we woke up to a foot of snow.

This after the foot we had yesterday.

Winter is here! You can't even see the rocks in our backyard. I am now understanding why it's called Powder Mountain, why Utah claims to have the greatest snow on earth and why EVERYONE has a snow blower.

We'll either love it or move back home:)

I think we're going to love it...

as soon as we get a snow blower.

p.s. thanks to our neighbor who laughed at Huz shoveling this morning and plowed our drive for us.

Did That Really Just Happen?!

I have debated putting this on here. I'm not sure how I feel publicizing my regular life. I know my friends from our old neighborhood and those living far away might appreciate hearing about the day to day, so I'll give it a shot.

I'm bathing Four. She stands up and pees in the tub. "Sick!!"

I tell her. "Time to get out!" Then I make the mistake of

turning around to grab her towel. As I turn back around

she is lying in the tub, drinking the water. "Aughhhhh!

You are drinking your pee!! Stop!!!! That is soooo gross!!"

She stands up, makes that "ahh" sound you do when you

take a big drink, licks her lips and says, "yum."

Also, Princess the black bunny somehow knows how to let himself out of his cage. Sigh.

Moratorium

I told several of you briefly about the moratorium the Ukraine legislation is trying to pass. I also said that I'd post more information to explain it. So, here I am.

Moratorium, by definition, is a suspension of activity.

Moratorium ,in regards to adoption, therefore means a suspension of all adoptions.

The following is my opinion, based on facts, of moratoriums in general.

The parliament in Ukraine and in many other Eastern European countries are being pressured into disallowing adoptions as a requisite to becoming part of the European Union. The European Union itself may be a good thing for these countries, however banning international adoption is not good, nor does it benefit any involved. The intent of the EU is supposedly for the applying countries to "clean up their orphan situation." However, how can anyone view the banning of international adoption as an asset to this goal? In the majority of these eastern European countries, adoption within the countries is not popular, due to social stigmas and other fatalistic views, nor is it economically feasible for the residents therein. Children who are orphaned often do not have anyone to live with or a place to go, skills to survive or means to take care of themselves once they reach the age of 16 and are expelled from the orphanages. They quickly turn to measures of desperation to simply survive-drugs, alcohol, and prostitution, paving the way for an entire new generation of orphans to be born. These orphans are looked down upon, often being denied occupancy and employment due to their unchosen orphan classification. Oftentimes these countries resort to actually destroying records of orphans or simply not registering them as such, therefore making it impossible for adoption to ever take place. This is done in order to cause the appearance of their "orphan situation" being taken care of. The stark reality of this legislation is that due to the financial hardships faced by citizens of these countries,along with social stigmas, these children will never have the opportunity to be adopted. How is it possible that any person could look at these facts and statistics and in good conscience require the banning of international adoption when clearly the children who are already suffering in these institutions will be so directly and negatively impacted? Surely the governments will not benefit from these qualifications as the population of orphans will thus increase and in turn require more of their budget to institutionalize and support these children. I cannot accept or even begin to understand the thought process that goes into the idea that banning international adoption is the way to end the cycle of orphans and "help" the "situation" or that it should somehow be a requisite for the entrance into a political entity.

The direct, immediate impact of a moratorium is that those hoping to adopt, along with those currently processing paperwork to adopt, may not be permitted to pursue their planned adoption. Children who have already been abandoned and are currently living in institutions will be denied the opportunity to have a family who will both love and care for them. Families, hoping to gain a son or daughter, would not be allowed to pursue the avenue of adoption.

As the parliament of Ukraine prepares to vote on this issue, please pray that the hearts of those voting will be softened, that the adoptions that are being processed will be successful, and that those children left in institutions will be able to overcome statistics and become productive, self-sufficient members of society.

I'm Back

Well, I'm back. Meaning I remembered who I was and I'm done being sad and I'm ready to do something. Not sure what yet, but I have a few ideas.

Pretty much I got a little bugged last night thinking about how a 13 year old punk told me what to do and I listened to him. Hello?! Apparently he is unaware of who he is dealing with. He doesn't know that I do what I want. He doesn't know that I just can't let things go. He doesn't know that I just don't go away. He doesn't know that I don't just take things as they are and go with the flow. If it's not good, I'm all about change. Wether that means donations to the orphanage, or a program to help displaced orphans (now that is definitely 2 extremes). Anyone who knows me knows I don't just sit back and wait for things to happen.

We'll be in touch. You and me and him and me.

Little turd.

Gone 2 Days

So, here I am. I am feeling pretty sad. I miss the boys. So do my girls. A few times a day they'll remember something funny that one of the boys did or said. They'll tell me they miss them. Four has even starting doing this face that BoyTwo did while he was here. It is pretty funny. I wonder if they picked up any habits from us? What do they remember about their time here? All fun and games or anything pertinent to life?

I want to do something to help improve their situation, but with a request of no contact, what am I to do? I am glad that they are happy enough with their situation that they want to go back. Do I wish they wanted to be adopted? Of course. But more than that, I pray for their safety, happiness and health. I pray that they will have success, meaning I hope they become productive, self-sufficient members of society. I pray that the cycle of orphans ends with their childhood and is not passed on. I pray they stay away from the bad crowds, drugs and alcohol that resulted in their being placed in an orphanage. I pray they remember the feelings of safety and happiness and family that they experienced while they were here. I believe they came into our lives for a reason. But what am I going to do with it now? I feel I should do something to help them. But help them with what? How?

We took a picture of our whole family with them the night before they left. It looks just perfect. I'm glad to have that, especially because things were so cool when they left.

The house is quiet. The car is quiet. My girls have started being naughty again.

How do I go back to having a normal life now? It just seems wrong to chalk it up to a great experience and get in my nice warm car and drive to the elementary school to staple book orders together (even though that's what I just did). How am I supposed to start thinking about Christmas when our family is already so spoiled and so many others have so little? I've already written and mailed a letter to each boy (even though BoyOne said not to, I figured he'd want the pics) and sent some pictures that hadn't been developed when they left. It seems so lame. So easy to just drop it in the mail and go on with my nice little fairy tale life. It's not right. It's not good enough for me (not my life, but just going on with my life). What does God want me to do with this? Any ideas? Anyone?

A line from one of my favorite books, The Shack, comes to mind. It is talking about how everything we do matters. It says that because we are important, everything we do is important. "Every time you forgive, the universe changes; every time you reach out and touch a heart or a life, the world changes; with every kindness and service, seen or unseen, my (meaning God) purposes are accomplished and nothing will ever be the same again."

Last Day

As with most good things in life, this hosting experience came to an end way to fast.

Sunday morning we all got ready for church-no complaints from BoyOne other than a groan which I always get from my girls who are used to going to church every single Sunday. And again, we just did sacrament meeting. BoyTwo was a little restless, along with my girls. There were several drink and potty breaks. I didn't even care.

At home, I made some crepes. I had heard that Ukrainian crepes had sour cream in them. Not sure if this was an ingredient or a topping, I googled some recipes. I found recipes for both sour cream in crepes and on crepes. So, I came up with my own little recipe using sour cream both in the crepes and in a topping. They were really good. I had to make more. Yeah!

After lunch, the kids headed outside to play-except BoyOne. He started acting all somber. I wasn't sure if it was due to the fact he was leaving in the morning or because I don't allow computer on Sunday. He headed upstairs. I gave him a little time alone while I cleaned up from lunch and then headed up to check on him. He lay on his bed staring straight ahead. I sat next to him. I asked through my phone translator if he was ok. He gave his "cool" shrug. The "I don't know what you're talking about" one that I think EVERY kid gives. So I typed that I was sorry he was having a hard time. He continued to look at the wall. I typed to him that he ought to go play outside with dad and the kids because we would be leaving soon. Just then, huz poked his head around the corner and asked him to come outside and play. BoyOne turned on his side and buried his head it the pillow and said a very emotional, "no." Huz went outside with the kids and I stayed with BoyOne while he cried and cried. He didn't want to look at me or let me comfort him as he had done last week when he was upset. I think he was trying to "cut the ties" because he was leaving. It broke my heart. Finally he gained composure and ran outside. It was like he was able to flip a switch. From that moment until the last moment we saw him he was distant and kind of acting silly. It reminded me of what you do when you are trying hard not to be upset about something.

Sunday evening we headed to Huz's parents house as it would save us an hour of travel in the morning. The kids needed to be to the airport at 6 a.m. Yuck. I had arranged to speak with a translator that evening in regards to adoption. We met with some of the group at a church where the Ukrainian Jazz player, Fesenko, showed up, spoke for about 30 seconds and then signed some autographs. The boys thought it was pretty cool. They kept holding their hands way high up in the air to show that he was soooo tall.

When it was time to speak with the translator, BoyOne wanted his friend in the room with us. I asked the translator what he thought would be best. The translator, who has had this conversation with many many of these kids before, suggested to not allow the friend in the room as it may taint BoyOne's reply. So, I shooed him out. This annoyed BoyOne. Our little meeting lasted all of 2 minutes. I had the translator ask BoyOne how it made him feel when we asked him if he wanted to be in our family and what he thought about that. BoyOne answered back and the translator told me that he had said, "I have a family. A mom, a dad, a grandma. I don't need another family." That was fine, I really wanted to know what he was honestly thinking, even if that was it. The part that made me feel bad was that he wouldn't even look at me and the tone of his voice was so weird. He just kind of sounded like a little jerk. But, he is 13. So then I had the translator ask if it was ok if we still sent letters and packages as we had planned (we meaning BoyOne too). This answer hurt my feelings. "No. Don't contact me. I don't see the point. I will never see you again." And then I felt so bad for the translator. You could tell he felt really bad and probably really awkward. He asked if I wanted him to try to explain why he should want to stay in America. I said no. I didn't feel like I was interested in trying to win him over, so to speak. We do not want to force anyone into doing anything they are not interested in or comfortable with. And we truly have his best interest in mind.

After the little meeting we went to the hall where his friend was waiting. BoyOne asked to stay and visit for a little while. I said sure. After about 20 minutes the SAC leader told us all that we needed to leave as the building was about to be used for another meeting. I had this translated to BoyOne and told him that we needed to go. Then he flipped out. He started yelling at me in Russian and I have no idea what he was saying but I'm pretty sure it wasn't very nice as there were about 8 translators in the room and none of them would tell me what he said. What a nice way to end the evening.

Once we were back in the car he tried to chit chat and acted like nothing had happened. I tried to do the same but really I was pretty sad that he had just said whatever he had yelled at me, even though I had no idea what it was...

When we arrived at Huz's parents Huz and our kids were anxiously waiting to hear what his answer had been and were disappointed to say the least that he had said no. We tried to turn this into a little lesson for our older girls. Huz told them that this is probably how Heavenly Father feels a lot of the time. It is so obvious to Him and others what the best thing to do would be but then sometimes we make choices that in turn make our lives more difficult. He told the girls that just how we feel sad that BoyOne doesn't want us to contact him, Heavenly Father feels sad if we don't talk to him. The parallel was wonderful. But it still sucked. I tried to take a few more pictures of the boys with our girls. Huz's parents took one of all of us together. I will post two even though I'm not supposed to. I'm posting both because in the one with BoyTwo holding the transformer in front of his face, BoyOne is smiling. In the pic with BoyTwo's face showing, BoyOne is not smiling. So, there you go. It's a great picture, isn't it.

Monday morning at 4:30 we were up and loading all their luggage into the car. The boys were very tired but cooperated. They didn't want breakfast-I couldn't blame them, it was too early for me to eat, too. I brought along some bananas and apples for them to take. When we arrived at the airport we were one of the first families there. The others slowly trickled in. BoyOne was happy to see his friends, many of which had decided to be adopted and were having a difficult time parting with their families. The boys found a diet coke (lovely breakfast) and shared that. Actually, BoyTwo found the drink and then BoyOne chased him, pushed him down and took it away, then after we gave him some looks shared it. The boys kept coming by us saying bye and asking if they could take our watch or my diamond. I think they were trying to be funny but you never know...

They finally boarded the plane. It was hard to see them leave. It was harder to drive home from Huz's parents house without them and even harder to go into our house. There was virtually no reminder of them. We had sent everything we had for them with them. All that was left were their empty beds.

Seriously?

One, Two and a friend are upstairs in the loft playing with their littlest pet shops. They are playing orphanage. I can't decide if I think it's cute or politically incorrect...

They were just singing "Oh I Just Can't Wait to be King" from the movie The Lion King. I hollered up, "hey! When I was a cheerleader in high school we did a dance to that song." I should really learn to think before I speak.

One answered back, "Was that movie even around back then?"

I replied, laughing, "yes, of course! I think it came out that year."

She answered back, "it seems like it's brand new...

"So they just had to add color?"

Shopping

I forgot to tell one of the sweetest stories so far!!

I took the boys shopping on Thursday to find a soccer ball and cleats for each. They were so excited!!! As soon as we were home the boys were in their cleats and outside playing soccer. Pretty quickly, BoyOne came stomping inside, visibly upset. He showed me his ball. It had some scuffs on it from being played with. I tried to show him that when you play with a ball, that is what happens. He was very upset.

His brother had seen him go inside, unhappy. He followed him in to see what the problem was. He saw the scuffs on the ball and after BoyOne threw the ball down and stomped upstairs to his room, picked it up and also went upstairs. I didn't follow, assuming that they could use some boy time, brother bonding or something. Then, I heard the bath water start. I ran upstairs and found BoyTwo filling the tub with water, the ball in the tub. He proceeded to cover it in soap and carefully wash and dry it and then take it into BoyOne.

Watching little brother care for big brother was so sweet. BoyTwo tries soooo hard to keep up with all those big boys. He tries so hard to be cool and tough. He wants so badly to impress BoyOne. He just wants his love and friendship. Sometimes I get so frustrated at BoyOne when he is mean to his brother. Why can't he just be nice to him? Good grief. He's just a little boy. It is heart breaking to watch BoyTwo try to be so grown up when he should just be playing and learning to read and ride a bike. The last thing he needs is his brother being mean. BoyOne is not always mean, thank heavens. There are times when he is just the best brother ever. I wish I could convince him to be that kid all the time.

Movie Night

We thought that for our last Saturday with the boys we would play at the park and go to see a movie. All the kids were excited about this.

The park where we live rocks. It's pretty old, but also has lots of new equipment. Before we moved here we loved to come play here when we were vacationing. The boys loved being on the swings, spinning on this wheel thing and getting dizzy. They were hilarious. They would have us spin them, then they would get off and try to walk. We were all laughing. Then, huz, being the cool dad he is, started a game of chase on the big jungle gym. It kind of reminded me of King Kong. The kids were all running everywhere, trying to get away from him. He would go after them and make it up the stairs in one giant step, or he'd scale the outside of the tunnel slide. Everyone was screaming and squealing.

At one point BoyOne told me he needed to use the bathroom. The bathrooms at this park have been locked for the winter. But, here's where having boys is handy, I told him to just go pee on a tree. He thought that was pretty funny.

After the park, we headed into town to see a movie. I don't even know for sure the name of it. Megamind or something? Anyhow, the kids enjoyed it. I thought it was a little slow, but it had a good message. There is one line that I wish I could tattoo on all the kids. It says, "Destiny is not the path laid out in front of you, but the path you choose." Such wisdom in a cartoon. Isn't that the lesson of life? What are you going to do with your situation? What will you make of yourself? Too bad it wasn't a russian cinema. And I'm not thinking their choice of being adopted. I'm thinking of what will they choose to do with their lives? Regardless of where they are living. What will all of us do with our lives? I gave a talk in church a few weeks ago about free agency. For me, free agency is more than just making a good choice when there is a decision to be made. I believe free agency consists of continually choosing to do good. Not that I am the poster child for this at all. It's just something that I remind myself of a lot. I try to make life happen, instead of waiting for life to happen to me. Like I said, a work in progress.

After the movie we went to dinner at the Pizza Factory, a family favorite. On the way home I could tell that BoyOne was in not-a-great mood. He didn't do or say anything-that was my clue. He didn't listen to any music or try to chat or anything. Just sat very quietly and stared out the front window. What's going on in your mind? Don't you know that you don't have to figure everything out all by yourself? I think they are too used to being on their own. Too sad.

Bounce House

Friday was another organized SAC activity. We went to a bounce house. The kids had a great time. The boys had seen pictures on my phone of the girls at one and I told them that we would be going. Ever since then, they have been so excited.

It was interesting, watching all these kids interact. The boys always got in front of the girls in line, as in cutting in. I was told that this is the way in Ukraine, boys are always first. Again, possible problem with their country? I had to grab BoyTwo several times to "help" him wait his turn. All in all, it was super fun and the kids were sad to leave. I didn't get any pictures like I had planned as I was very busy chasing after BoyTwo, making sure he didn't escape... BoyOne had a great time with the inflatables and then later spent some time at the air hockey table. He is really athletic and good at all sports. I told him via the computer translator one time that he is very good at athletics, that it was a talent. He said, "no," and then pantomimed volleyball and golf. He has a good sense of humor, too. I can joke with him and it's fun. For example, for Halloween I asked if he wanted to dress up as a girl. At first he was mortified but then he saw I was kidding and laughed. Another time, we were all in the bathroom brushing teeth and doing hair and I pretended to start to put pony tails in his hair. He thought that was pretty funny too.

This past week, BoyOne has been staying up later than all the other kids and watching movies and hanging out with huz and I. He always falls asleep on the couch and huz will carry him up to his bed. The latest he's made it is 10:00 p.m. Wish my girls were more like that!!

Friday night we dropped One off at a lesson and went to our old neighborhood school to let the kids play while we waited. We had a great time, Two and Three played with a couple of their great friends from when we lived there. BoyOne and BoyTwo brought their new soccer balls and cleats to play soccer. This caused a little trouble. BoyOne really can be just the best brother and best kid and can be so happy. But then, other times, he is just mean and ornery. He's mean to his brother. That makes me the most sad. I know it's probably because of how he was treated, but I still wish he could find it in himself to rise above. Anyhow, tonight was one of those nights. He was mean to his brother, making him cry and hide behind me from him. When we asked him to stop, he just yelled. He was very easily frustrated with himself while playing ball, to the point that it wasn't fun for anyone anymore. He is so hard on himself at times. Expects perfection. He forgets that he's only 13 and that he hasn't had many opportunities to do the things he's trying to do. Poor kid. So, we went home, he wouldn't eat dinner, wouldn't talk to us, wouldn't look at us, stayed in his room facing the wall and eventually went to sleep. Sad. What a way to spend one of your final days here. Sigh.

Eskimo Kisses

I taught BoyTwo how to give an Eskimo kiss. Now, he will take my face in his hands and rub noses with me at random times. It is very funny. He does it so seriously and then looks at me like he's so proud of himself. He really is the funniest kid. He loves to take baths in our master tub. He is a little fish. He also likes to gargle water.

He continues to have little chats with me. I really have no idea what he's saying, but it's fun to watch his face as he tells me his stories. He gives lots of hugs and is learning how to share and doesn't seem to feel as threatened by the other kids. He likes to play with our Fisher Price Little People houses and animals. I wonder if they have anything like that at the orphanage? It's too bad their postal system is so corrupt or I'd buy a bunch and ship them over. Such a simple thing.

Zoo Day

Today was an organized group event, courtesy of SAC. Huz took the day off and our whole family went. The weather was cool, but not too bad. Over all, it was a great day to be there.

We let BoyTwo stay with his friends and the rest of us stuck together. I felt pretty comfortable with this as we were frequently within eye shot (is that even a term?) of their group.

At noon we were supposed to meet at a picnic area to eat as a large group and to meet the Jazz player from Ukraine, Fsenko. Probably slaughtered that spelling, but oh well. At noon we were there and we were the only ones. By 12:30 a few other families had come. At around 1:00 we received word that Fsenko had thrown up at practice and was sent home. Apparently when this happens they are required to not go anywhere the remainder of the day. Kinda sounds to me like when my kids stay home from school because they are "sick" and I don't let them go anywhere so they can be sure to start "feeling better." So, needless to say, that was a disappointment to many of the boys there.

We didn't get home from the zoo until after 4. I'm not sure I've ever spent so much time there. But, it was a good time, the kids all seemed to have had fun.

Tonight Huz had a client dinner so I was on my own again. Honestly, I can't even remember what we did the rest of the evening! Later, after all the kids were in bed, BoyOne was still awake. Huz and I decided to have a little computer talk with him. He has been acting like he enjoys us and being here, he plays with the kids well, both our kids and others, he asks when he has to go back to Ukraine and when we tell him, he says "NOOOO." We get hugs every morning and night, except for Sunday and Monday after the concert. We really love these boys and would love for them to be part of our family. In observing the boys, we feel they are comfortable here with us and would be happy. We decided to at least give them the option. Ultimately, we want what is best for them, even if it means that it isn't us. We believe they came into our lives for a reason and we want to help them however they need, wether through adopting them or keeping in contact with them, or simply our prayers for them. So, we asked BoyOne to come to the computer to translate. We told him how we have enjoyed having him in our home. We told him we loved him and BoyTwo. We told him that we would love for them to become part of our family if they wanted. We asked if he was worried about living in another country and learning a new language. He answered yes. He, with much sign language, asked what grade he would be in and where he would go to school. We answered those questions and then just told him we wanted them to be happy. That was most important to us. Then we asked if he'd like to think about it, he answered yes. By the way, there is not a word for adopt in Russian. We have been told that we would need to initiate any discussion of this due to the incredibly low self-esteem these kids have. We decided to wait and see how he acted to decide what we should do next.

Tuesday

Tuesday was a long day.

I am now feeling pretty crummy and Tyler was going to be gone until about 9 tonight. I ended up letting the girls stay home from school because we got home so late. This helped me immensely as they could all entertain each other.

Behavior from both boys was excellent, everyone played well together and then when Huz came home, he took the Bigs (I am now calling the oldest 3 the Bigs and the youngest three the Littles) to our church to play basketball. They burned off some energy, came home and went to bed happy.

Pretty uneventful and guess what? That is good.

I need to add that although we have had some behavioral problems, this is to be expected from kids who have not had the opportunity of living with a loving, functional family. These kids have had quite the rough life thus far and their actions, I believe, are a direct result of their past. I am continuing to enjoy my time with them and still dread having to send them home.

Litter Bugs

The boys have not been taught to not litter. Even in the house. Apparently, orphanages hire old grandmas to walk around the buildings and premises and pick up garbage and clean up messes. So, it is common place for the kids to drop garbage wherever it is made. Even in the house.

I showed BoyOne where the garbage can was and showed him to throw his garbage away. So far, he's done a pretty good job remembering. BoyTwo, different story. If I see him drop garbage, I help him pick it up and most of the time he is fine to do so.

A couple days ago we were driving in the car. BoyOne unwrapped a granola bar or something that had a wrapper and I saw him prepare to throw it out the window. "No," I said, holding out my hand for the garbage. He almost handed it to me. But then he got that look in his eye that he's been getting, the look of defiance, and chucked it out the window. So, I stopped the car, put it in reverse and backed up down the road. I didn't even have to tell him, he got out of the car and picked up the garbage. Then, he threw it at me. And the rest of the way down the street he pointed out EVERY single piece of garbage we passed. He tried to tell me that it was ok to litter in Ukraine. I felt like telling him that perhaps that is part of the problem with their country... But I didn't. I did tell him that it is against the law to litter and that regardless of what anyone else does, we do what is right. This is a lesson that every parent tries to teach their kids, they usually have longer than two weeks to do it in.

SAC Concert

Monday was a long day. As Mondays usually are.

This particular Monday was the "one week left" mark for the boys. I was feeling all sorts of panicky thinking of them leaving. The girls went to school in the morning. I picked them up early. The plan was to go into town to a ski shop and have us fitted for skiis. Next, we needed to be in Sandy by 4:30 for a dress rehearsal for a benefit concert that SAC was having. This concert is a big deal as it is the primary fundraiser for these hosting trips. At 6:00 we were going to to leave the concert, take Three and Four to my sister's house and jet back to the concert. Sounds easy enough, right?

I knew the boys, BoyOne in particular, was not going to be happy about this concert thing. I knew that if he would give it half a chance he would enjoy himself. This is the constant problem. It is SO FRUSTRATING!!!!!!!!!!! He is defiant and does not want to go anywhere. When we finally get to wherever it is, he is mad. When it is nearing time to leave, he finally begins to have a good time. This behavior is typical of many children of many ages in many circumstances. It is just hard when there is this GREAT BIG HUGE language barrier.

I decide early in the day to prep BoyOne on the concert. I tell him via computer translation that we have a concert to attend. This concert earns money that pays for his vacation here. I know he does not want to go, but we have to. All of his friends will be there. I believe he will actually enjoy it. He moans and groans a little and that is it. Relief floods over me.

Now, we're off to pick up the girls. In hindsight I should have skipped this next event. I didn't really have an option though due to other events going on and a time frame that had to be met. I took all six kids with me to the ski shop to be fitted for skiis. This started out just fine. When we were getting ready to be done, BoyOne starts to get upset. I need to explain that I had already told him what we were doing and that we wished he would be here this winter to ski with us. Maybe next year. Back to real time. He is getting upset and I'm trying to find out why. He is not wanting to talk to me or look at me. I personally think he is upset because he is thinking about how he has to go back to Ukraine soon and we get to stay here in our free country eating doughnuts and snow skiing. It really would have been better if I had not brought them along, for their sakes. I felt really bad. I really do wish they could just be part of our family and ski with us.

Now we're in the car headed to pick up huz and go to the concert. BoyOne is bugged that we have to pick up huz, but at the same time glad to see him. He doesn't want to give up his shot gun seat to me, and not willing to risk ticking him off, I voluntarily take the back seat. Not the middle back, but the very back seat of the suburban. The one that has shortened leg space. We ride all the way from I-89 in Layton to Sandy with my knees touching my chin. I'm also leaning forward holding hands with Three and Four. Good gravy.

We get to the concert. We sit around for a really long time waiting for our rehearsal turn. Now, I understand that this is how dress rehearsals go. Each number has to practice and get their sound system worked out. Problem is BoyOne has probably never been to a concert, let alone a dress rehearsal and most other people did not show up until well after we did. He launches a personal attack against me. An attack of silence, glares and occasional Russian that sounds accusing. I apologize. I tell him we were here when we were supposed to be. I tell him I didn't know everyone else was going to be late. Could he just hang out with his friends as they arrive and as we wait our turn?

Finally, our turn to rehearse. We are to stand as families. He will not stand with us. Because he won't, neither will his copy cat brother. We finally get them to come by us and BoyTwo freaks out. We are talking biting, kicking, hitting and spitting. Mixed in with some colorful Russian. I haul him out. I try to calm him down. No go. I see some kids enter the building and I recognize them as being adopted from Ukraine in previous years (I have turned into a blog stalker, embarrassing). I call out to them, asking (begging, really) for help translating. They come over and try to talk to BoyTwo. I have NO idea what is being said but I can see the frustration in BoyTwo's little face. He is trying so hard not to cry, to be tough. And that makes me start to cry. I reach over to touch his shoulder and he gives me this horrible look of hate, which makes me really sad. The night is now in disaster mode.

After more biting, hitting, and kicking from BoyTwo and more being ignored from BoyOne (I'm not expecting him to be my BFF or anything, a simple acknowledgement of my existence will do), I am beginning to seriously doubt myself. What was I thinking?! Really?!!!

I pass one of the Chaperone's, not the one that stayed with us, and ask her to translate for me. I ask her to tell BoyTwo the following:

No hitting.

No kicking.

No biting.

No yelling.

No running away.

Say sorry to me.

He mocks me, but ends up saying "sorly" and agrees to not do the above. On to BoyOne. I ask her to tell him he needs to stay near us. He needs to cooperate. He needs to participate in this concert. This concert pays for his vacation. He needs to be respectful. I know he does not want to be here, but he must, at the request of the program.

They engage in a conversation. I know more is being said than what was originally planned. I ask what is going on. I am told that he thinks we are not a good family. We make him do things he does not want to do. We will not take him to the activities. When we go, we are late. At this point I am about to lose it. Because remember who is making us late with his emotional-ness????? Remember how much we want him and want him to be here? My feelings are hurt and I am offended that he would tell his leaders that we are a bad family.

And then one of my friends from my old neighborhood shows up for the concert. Here I am telling her how awesome this is, singing praises for adoption and all these kids and she finds me sitting on stairs crying. Nice. Another SAC friend comes over to me and offers a listening ear. My husband is gone (taking Three and Four to my sis's) and I have no idea where my Ukrainian boys are, and my girls are upset because they want to go to the concert.

Huz finally gets back and I tell him I just want to leave. He is surprised to see me this upset because it takes a lot to get me like this. We go to find the boys and as we round the corner, the Ukrainian director of this program is coming around the corner the opposite direction with BoyOne. Apparently she found him and heard what was going on and had a little talk with him.

She starts to tell me that he just doesn't want to be here (concert). Because of his past he doesn't properly express himself. He doesn't understand that I am upset because I care. He just thinks that I am one more bossy woman telling him what to do. I have already thought these things. I tell her that as much as I really love having them at my house, maybe they don't want us. Maybe they should go to another family so that they will enjoy their visit. She tells me no, that is not the problem. She tells me that she asked him if anyone had ever told him he was smart. He said no. She told him that we said he was smart. She asked him if anyone had ever said nice things about him. He said no. She said we said lots of nice things about him. She told him that mom (me) is crying because she loves you. He is surprised. She asks him if he knows what it means to have a family. He says he does. She tells him this is his chance. He needs to show us with his actions because he does not know the words or the feelings. I am still not convinced that he does not hate us.

We go to the last half of the concert. BoyOne is on his best behavior. BoyTwo is a regular 6 year old boy. We stay until it is almost over and then we have to leave to pick up the other kids and drive 1 1/2 hours home. What a night. I cry the whole drive.

p.s. the actual concert was great