Year eight with my sweet Gracie

Oh sweet girl, it's been an amazing year. You've grown. Actually if you could stop growing that would be great. You're this beautiful little girl one moment and this bouncy little vision of the woman you're becoming the next.
There are so many stories about this year. I think I'll start with your new found love to skate.
Over the summer we went to your first skating rink, and the best I can describe your first go around was like that scene from Friends where Phoebe runs. It was all flailing and squeals. And I wasn't sure you would be getting the hang of it. But that's not what makes this one of those proud mommy moments for me. What makes this a proud mommy moment is that you kept skating. I mean no matter how many times you fell, you just kept getting back up. You ran into walls and lost control over and over again. And then you went back the next day to keep practicing. And then you asked for skates for your birthday. You weren't a natural. You were determined. You made up you mind and then you kept at it.
And then there was the news that you had colonized psuedomonas. You looked at me and said, "So now I can go swimming whenever I want." I just smiled. Truly you are ever the optimist. You wore moustaches with me to the hospital to get lab work done and giggled at all the strange looks we got. This year you did all your own talking for your Great Strides CF video. I think this may be my all time fav video. You are just, well I'll put a link to it because you just blow me away.

Oh and you've started this whole making friends wherever we go. I mean you just walk right up to other kids, introduce yourself and ask if they want to play. Sometimes they do. Sometimes they don't. But you always ask, and you do it absolutely fearlessly.
And when Granny's Daddy died this year, you found me crying. You wrapped your arms around me and prayed for his first night in heaven. The next day you wrote a letter to God and asked him to please take good care of him.
And you've become a big sister all over again. When Bitty first came, you struggled. You were sad because everyone was making a fuss over him. And I remember you very calmly came out of your room one day and told me that it was okay that he was everybody's favorite because you were his favorite. You're all the affection from a mom without any of that pesky word no.
You're funny. I mean like playing pranks on Seth funny. You hide around corners and jump out at him. Your giggle is infectious. Oh and this year we let you have caffeine. You giggled for ten minutes straight. We took video.

This year you started growing out of toys. You decided you were too old to play with Barbies. And I teared up. You started getting phone calls from other giggly little girls.
And my sweet little princess is growing up into this young lady that I just love to be with. I love to listen to you talk about your day, your chinchilla or just snuggle with you.
You're so wonderfully compassionate. When I'm having a bad day, you will sweetly walk over and ask me if I need a hug. And you are almost always right. There's very few things in the world a Gracie hug can't fix.
And this was the year you donated all those beyond gorgeous curls. I mean. How was I going to say no when you told me about how you wanted to help other kids by cutting your hair? I cried, but my sweet girl hopped right up there and did something amazing. I mean that's who you are.
You truly are so fearfully and wonderfully made, and I am so grateful for year eight with you.


And here's that link to the video of your adorableness...
http://youtu.be/xhu-R7J47Po

THE talk...

So there's a talk I've been dreading for almost nine years.
The talk that I would chew my right leg off to get out of.
Turns out I may never have to have THE talk.
And it's so not what you think.
For nine years I've been terrified for Grace to ask me if CF will kill her. Statistically, it will.
Let that sink in for minute.
Yeah, the very idea of that talk still makes me throw up in my mouth a little. I'm not sure how to explain to my happy, vibrant second grader that CF could slowly suffocate her to death. To tell her that she can expect a lifetime full of treatments and hospital stays to only buy time before the inevitable.
Yep, makes me nauseous every time I think about it.
I've spent the last couple of years trying to decide whether to tell her and ruin her innocence or risk a kid at school googling CF only to tell her.
But this week it hit me. I was doing the dishes and playing on a cf facebook group. They were talking about how close we are for the meds that will temporarily fix Grace's  type of gene defect. I mean like she could be on it sometime in 2014.
Yeah we're that close. As in I may NEVER have to have that talk with Grace.
As in when she asks me if Cystic Fibrosis will kill her I can say NO. Not we're looking for a cure. Not we're getting so close. But I can say NO.
And I broke down, tears streaming down my cheeks at the kitchen sink.
You guys, seriously I just can't even put this into words!
And I have to tell you guys thank you. Oh my gosh, thank you doesn't even begin to cover it.
This year and every other year since she was born you have been absolutely ah-mazing. You have donated. You have supported us. You have walked. You have prayed.
And this year when I've honestly been lacking myself. With everything else going on, I haven't been doing fundraisers. I haven't been doing benefit nights. I haven't been flooding your newsfeed for two months with pleas. And you have absolutely blown me away with your generosity. Every time and I mean every time someone donates, I cry because we are so truly, truly blessed by our friends and family.
So please keep it up. When I say we're close, I mean like almost reach out and touch it close.
And know that this isn't just about Gracie. There are so many other sweet cfers with different gene types, and the research is changing lives. The research is saving lives. You guys are saving lives and changing THE talk for so many of us.
Thank you.
To donate go to
http://www.cff.org/Great_Strides/dsp_DonationPage.cfm?walkid=8672&idUser=104366

Let me tell you about Friday

Lemme tell you about Friday. Trust me. You're gonna wanna read this.
Well first some background. When Gracie and Seth hug me I tell them it makes me heart feel happy.
It's this warm fuzzy feeling that I only get when my children hug me. You know that first day of summer when you're laying outside, you close your eyes and then you take that first big deep breath that's full of sunshine? Kinda of like that only so much better. I just can't really put that into words, but oh it's just beyond amazing. It's, well, quite possibly my fav thing about being a mom.
Anyway, on Friday Bitty had a doc appointment. He was passing the time playing in my lap. We were babbling and blowing raspberries at each other. And then it happened.
He looked up at me with those big hazel eyes and ridiculously long eyelashes, smiled with his tiny four teeth, and then put his head on my chest. He sighed softly and tucked his arms up under his body...
And my heart was so very happy.
This warm feeling ran over me. I wrapped my arms around him, grinned that silly mommy grin, and teared up like a big ol girl.
And that's it. In a random exam room, on an uneventful day with no one else there, no drama to speak of, he became my child.

And now life feels almost normal. 

Like I was driving to school, and I realized it felt totally normal to have three kids with me. 

Grace was next to Bitty and babbling away at him.

I'm getting up in the mornings and not feeling overwhelmed by the task of getting everyone fed and out the door in time. Seth gets himself dressed and then runs to play with Bitty.

In the afternoons, I find myself with an hour to myself to zone out with random tv shows during naptime.

Bitty will not only giggle, but the kid has some serious dance moves. In particular he loves him some boy bands. 

He's started signing, and even more amazing I understand it. 

He will play right next to me and then sneak off to the office to pull out all the puzzle pieces. That's right he will wander off without me to play.

The older kids offer to help with the dishes and to help feed Bitty.

In the evening Bitty gets fussy, but only for an hour. I can put him in the playpen. He throws a fit for a few minutes and then remembers how many toys are in there. And the fussiness doesn't make me cringe anymore. It's just a normal evening with a normal family that has a normal baby.

As I type this the big kids are eating dinner while Bitty plays. 

In fact, I can mostly categorize today as borderline uneventful.

Don't get me wrong. It's still scary to not know the future for Bitty and us. Things still aren't clear. There's still fear about the unknown with Bitty, but I can say unequivocally that I have three children. Three smart, funny and so loved children...And they so make my heart happy.

Drama

dra·ma:

 [drah-muh,dram-uh ]any situation or series of events having vivid, emotional,conflicting, or striking interest or results:
So drama...
I'm so not a fan.
Confrontation makes me queasy. Yeah and then I do a goofy nervous laugh.
And I think I've spent far too many years trying to avoid it.
I mean we've certainly had our share of dramatic moments over the years, but it's never something I've accepted as the norm.
My thoughts have always been to just push past the dramatic situation to get to the good stuff. Drama always had a negative tone in my opinion. I wanted life to be easy, effortless and in all honesty terribly boring.
But lately I'm rethinking that.
I find that we've been thrown into a whirlwind with Bitty, and dude that is def some drama. Drama that I never wanted. Drama that I don't feel like we did anything to cause. Drama that to be honest I've been bitter about having to deal with.
I mean I read my Bible. I go to church. I pray. I love Jesus.
So shouldn't I be drama free at some point?
When I write that out, it sounds even more crazy.
I mean I read my Bible. What Bible character ever had a drama free life?
Seriously?
Issac was put on an altar.
David was run out of his country.
Moses was a baby left in a river.
Job was, well, that's some drama.
Lazarus died and then came back.
Jesus sweat blood.
And here I am with my queasy pity party about my very cush life.
Jesus had drama. I mean serious for real drama.
He knew the drama was coming. He didn't run. He didn't hide from it. He decided that it was worth it. He decided that I was worth it...
How humbling is that?!
So that's the difference. Jesus loved me so much that he didn't care about the drama it took to save me.
It was never about the drama. It was always about love.
Love means being passionate. Love means picking up a cross. Love means there will be drama.
Drama with a purpose.
Jesus' is passionate about saving people, about fighting for people. And I'm a Jesus follower. His passions are my passions.
I'm working to accept that drama isn't a bad thing when it's for something worth being dramatic about. I'm working to trust God and know that He's got this. That if He brings drama into my life then I can trust Him with it.
And to see what lies behind the drama, love.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

So I'm selfish

So it turns out that I'm ridiculously selfish.
The last month has absolutely been a struggle. Bitty came into our lives, and I haven't been the same since. He rocked my world...
Lemme explain. Each one of my children has taught me something. Well, lots of things but it seems one major theme from each one that has forever changed me. It starts years ago with Gracie. When we found out her diagnosis, I was devastated. And God taught me about trusting him. He taught me about priorities, and that I can trust Him with the very things I treasure the most...even if I don't know what lies ahead.
Then came Seth. He taught me about patience...and not just because he was and is still a bouncing little boy. Three years for the adoption and another year after that for immigration taught me to be still and know that He is God.
But both Gracie and Seth both had something I could tangibly focus my, well, at times hostility. I knew what we were up against, whether it was a deadly disease or governments. God changed me using outside circumstances and so, so much for the better.
To be honest, I assumed that this next child would be no different. I assumed I would be struggling against legal issues or bio parents. I was wrong.
We got the call to tell us that our licensing was just about finished and in the next breath we were told about bitty. This was not the waiting game I had anticipated.
And in a whirlwind he came to our doorstep.
A cps worker showed up with paperwork and a baby and within an hour it was just us. It wasn't the storybook moment I had hoped for. He had been sobbing the whole trip over. His tiny cheeks were red, and he was covered in tears and snot. I don't think I had anticipated the big kid cry that he came with. This was not the newborn cry I had experienced with the other two, and I quickly figured out I didn't actually need a baby monitor.
Then he came down with RSV. There was more crying, from him and me. I found myself tired and frustrated and struggling to be a mother to this tiny stranger in my home.
And that's when I discovered that the thing that I was fighting against this time was, well, me. I'm fighting against my own selfish nature.
I want to have this perfect experience. I want to sleep without being yelled at. Heck I want to not be yelled at. I want him to be a snuggly baby. I want my day to go smoothly and to be this effortless, perfect mother.
So you see the problem...it's I want.
This time the big bad monster I'm fighting against for my child is the person staring back at me in the mirror.
And I'm not what this is about. This is about a tiny little one who deserves to be loved. A bitty who needs to be held even when he's squirmy and fussy. He is this precious child created by God. He's worth dying on a cross for. He needs my patience and my understanding. He needs a gentle touch and soft words from someone who loves him.
And it brings me back to my relationship to God. I am commanded to love the least of these, but I'm struggling. I think it comes down to deciding to love because He first loved me. I have to take the focus off of myself and put it on God. I have to look at this sweet baby thru God's eyes.
I think this may be the hardest lesson I've learned so far from my children, but I know that it's a blessing. I know that this tiny miracle is an answer to my prayers. And when I can see this sweet boy the way my God sees him, then I am going to be a forever changed mother of three.