The First Hug...

And the first hug goes to....

HUZ!!!

from BoyOne!!!

I'm actually most excited to report that it was not me getting the first hug. Not because I didn't want it but because I had heard from other parents that sometimes these kids have a hard time accepting, bonding, acknowledging the father of the family. This is because many of them either haven't had a father, have had a bad experience with a father, and all are currently in an orphanage surrounded by women caretakers and they do not know what to think of a man. Glad this is not appearing to be an issue at the moment. Another bonus is that this hug was received the first morning!!! (insert Holbrook family cheer of "oh yeah, uh-huh, oh yeah, uh-huh)

Well, we left off Saturday night, really Sunday morning, with me on the short couch and BoyTwo in my spot on the hide-a-bed with the cat. So cute. Did you feel the warm fuzzies? Good.

Because shortly thereafter they were gone.

Sunday morning we got up and began to get everyone ready. Two and Huz left earlier than the rest of us because Huz had to teach and Two had to pray in church. We have 9 a.m. church. For a Holbrook this is a true test of faith. It doesn't matter when we go to bed, we just do NOT like to wake up. I readied the other girls and took them to church and then returned to get the boys ready. Now, I'm not smokin' crack or anything like that. I wasn't going to torture them through all of church. Just sacrament meeting. And this was because it was the primary program and the girls were all in it. Who doesn't like to listen to a bunch of kids sing/yell?! It's my favorite time of year!!

So I told the boys it was time to get ready for church. BoyOne said, "No, Mama." Why oh why is a child's first word ALWAYS no????????????

But he just seemed complain-y about it. And then I showed him his church clothes.

And then the s*^# hit the fan.

I guess it wasn't that terrible but I think I was more shocked than anything at the reaction. He started Nyet, Nyet-ing me (nyet is no in russian) And then he just went off and it was like in the original Parent Trap where the dad tells Susan that he's getting remarried and she flips out and starts yelling at him in French and he's like "what the...?" Well, that was me.

Thank heavens for the Chaperone who was staying with us. He still wasn't feeling well but came out of his room, ready for church and attempted to reason with the boys. Now, BoyTwo was simply copying BoyOne. He didn't know what he was supposed to be upset about. After lots and lots of back and forth in Russian, Chaperone tells me that BoyOne doesn't like the clothes. They are not stylish.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!

I told chaperone to tell BoyOne to stop being so vain and that we were going to worship God, not to a fashion show. And, all the boys dress like that.

And I don't think that went over so well. Hmmm. More back and forth in Russian. At this point we are inching closer and closer to the time when we really NEED to be to church in order to see this program and my patience were wearing thin. This has now been going on for an hour, mind you. So I try to be mature about this and decide that I don't really care so much what he wears as I do about getting to church. I tell him fine, wear your pants....and I'm also thinking that he'll see that I was right when we get to church and everyone else is dressed nicely. He finally puts on his jeans and a sweater and with a scowl on his face gets in the car. Poor chaperone. I can't imagine being the go between for a stubborn orphan boy and an even more stubborn mother. I had even suggested that Chaperone skip church because he was not feeling well and he said, "No, I wish to go." So nice. And then he told me this:

"In Ukraine the television ads, propaganda, people there, they believe that other religions are bad. They teach them that christians sacrifice little children and EAT them!!"

Serious? SERIOUS?

As if it isn't enough to throw these kids in an orphanage without a decent shot at life, they teach them to not believe in God or Christ. My word. What are they thinking?!

Church ended up being just fine. The boys even liked when our girls had their parts and they pointed to them. Not to mention all the waving and sign language "I love yous" that were going on from the stand.

After church we returned home and I made our family favorite-french toast made with cinnamon burst bread from the Village Baker in West Jordan. Yep. I drive all the way out there for this bread. Best ever.

And, drumroll please, everybody liked it.

Phew.