Re-writing life

Ever wish you could have a "do-over"?
Like today for instance. I took the boys for an impromptu trip to the mountains to surprise our youth group. They were camping about an 90 minutes from home and I thought "that would be fun!" First our GPS took us literally through the woods and spit us out on a dead end, insisting that we drive through the woods to "reach our destination ahead." Right.
When we finally regained cell service we found our way only to be stopped by a giant gate guarding the camp. There was a buzzer. Buzzed. Nothing happened. Called hubster and everyone else I knew on the trip. No cell service. Called the camp number. Answering machine. Called the "emergency" camp number. Answering machine. (REALLY?!?!) Was about to turn around and go home when I huge man in a huge truck pulls up. Here I am, a lady with a baby and a boy and being from someplace other than the south, I think "This man could kill us and there is no one around to hear us screaming." (In case you are wondering YES I always do think the very best of people...NOT!!) At this point we are out of the car and letting C run off some energy as I call everyone I know.
I nervously eye the house up the hill. I would never make it holding my 25 pound baby. Turns out he is a nice guy from Zellwood, FL. We had plenty of time to chat as we wait for someone to let us into the stinking gate. Long story short a lady finally left the camp and we rushed the open gate.

Do overs. Everyday I wish I could erase something.Today, I wish I would have gotten the gate code before I thought I was going to get myself and my kids chopped into pieces. Sometimes, I wish I could just re-write big sections of my life. And, well, that's pretty stupid because I've had a wonderful life. But what about those who really have a reason to re-write life? Days, weeks, years, spent in an orphanage. Even under the best circumstances, it's a horrible existence.

It's hard enough getting a ticket out when you are a perfectly healthy person. The chances of being adopted are slim at best. Now, add in even the smallest health problem and those odds reduce significantly. Next, add a mental impairment, and you might as well forget ever having a home or a mom and dad to tuck you in. You will never celebrate a birthday or wait for Santa. You won't get proper health care or nutrition. You'll be hungry and you won't be able to tell anybody. You'll need comforting and rarely receive so much as a hug. You may start out life in a baby home with compassionate care, but at age FOUR you will be transferred to a mental institution. With adults. At age FOUR.

Fortunately, hope is not lost. There are angels among us that are called to adopt children with special needs. Adoption is a huge hurdle on so many levels. But when God opens your heart to adoption and you are met with a face of a child, your child. You will stop at NOTHING to bring them home where they belong.

One of those hurdles, unfortunately, is financial uncertainty. When you see that cost, it's so easy to think. "Deal breaker" If you don't have it, you don't have it. But once again, there is hope. Agencies like Reece's Rainbow exist to bring home the most hopeless of orphans home, where they belong. They work tirelessly to provide grants (sometimes full grants) to bring these angels home. And the awesome part is YOU CAN HELP RE-WRITE 10 of these angel's lives! Cultivate Wines hosts a semi-annual charity giveaway to award $50,000 to one deserving cause.

This year, Reece's Rainbow is in SECOND PLACE. That means, no $50,000 or 10 grants to waiting orphans. No chance to "re-write" the course of their lives. Voting is easy. You can vote EVERYDAY HERE 
On October 31st we'll know if 10 precious babies are that much closer to a "do-over" that will save their lives.
Please vote. Please share. Let's be part of something BIG. It only takes a second and the impact you can make will be life changing.

Kiss and tell.....

Here's a little fun for you. Please keep in mind that C is 4 1/2 years old. FOUR.AND.A.HALF.

One of C's speech words was "kiss" (We're working on K sounds) and his speech therapist likes him to try the word on the flashcard before we tell him the word if he won't say it on his own. So, he's sitting there, starring at the picture of two cartoon people kissing. I kept saying- C, you know this one. You know what they're doing....He finally says "Yeah, I know Mama. I do that to the girls in my class"
WHAT?!?!
I quickly said "C! You better not be kissing girls in your class!!! To that he says:

DON'T WORRY MAMA, I ONLY KISS THE PRETTY ONES.
Lord, help me.
Flashback of the Victoria Secret commercial a few weeks ago. If you're not my friend on the ol' book of faces. Let me recap for you.

We're sitting around watching something like Jeopardy. I tell you that because I don't want you thinking we were up late letting C watch late night TV. A Victoria Secret commercial comes on and C, immediately stops what he's doing and gives the TV his full (no pun intended) attention.
We go with the "don't make a big deal about it" route.
At the conclusion of the peep show, C says:
MAMA, I LIKE HER SKIN....
I bet you do son, I bet you do.

I had no idea that this fun would start this early. Should I be worried???

Party and other ramblings...

I am enjoying the few years in my boys life that I can actually choose their party theme and guest list. I have a feeling those days are over when it comes to big brother. C has already informed me that for his birthday he wants a bouncy house, Scooby Doo, and has already started to assemble the guest list. Keep in mind that his birthday is MONTHS away.
But, little man is going to be a YEAR OLD next month. Isn't it crazy how time flies? It seems like yesterday I was sitting in the hospital with his birth mom, scared out of my mind. With the normal "baby" stuff like, well, "What the heck am I going to do with a baby??!?!" and a terrible fear that she was going to change her mind. You see, we hadn't had the best of luck in the adoption department with C's process and even though that ended well, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were REALLY pressing our luck in the family department. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I am the perpetual doubting Thomas. But much to my surprise, they handed me this little 7 pound 11 ounce baby boy on November 10th and my life forever changed. Our lawyer was a little high strung and was adamant about getting J OUT OF THE HOSPITAL FAST!!! once he was released to us. You see, he is an adoptive parent times 15(!!!) and his last adoption fell through at the hospital as they were getting the baby in the car. Talk about adding unnecessary pressure. I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest as we stood in the freezing cold trying to latch the FREAKIN' car seat into the car for the first time. Finally the nurse stepped in and did it for us. She STILL handed us the baby despite our lack of car seat skills.  In retrospect, I have no idea why we didn't do that in advance. And we were almost out of gas as well (going back to the surprise that these people actually handed us a one day old baby!?!?!) In our defense we thought we had another 2.5 weeks before his arrival, but still. Geesh. Honestly, we weren't thinking of anything else except. GET.THAT.BABY.HOME!!!
Flying unicorns could have picked us up on their golden chariot and I wouldn't have thought twice about it.
Wow, that was a tangent. Still with me?
So, the pressures of a first birthday party. It's odd, because J won't remember a single blasted thing from this day. Yet, I am assuming this is a multi-million dollar industry. You would be shocked to know the amount of things that boast "My FIRST Birthday!" I'm not one for the BIG birthday hoopla. That show "My sweet 16" makes me almost vomit every time think about it. Don't tell C, but he can dream of the bounce house all he wants. There WILL NOT be one in our backyard come Spring. Nor will we ever have a petting farm, circus performers of any type, D.J.'s, face painters, tattoo artists, castles, rock walls, or anything of the sort at a birthday celebration for these two boys. Sorry guys. If it's any consolation you'll get to pick out your birthday dinner and cake flavor....
We have cake and friends at home. Period. Maybe as they get older a "location" party, slumber party (do boys have slumber parties??) I guess they are called "camp-outs" or something of that nature. But anyway, I think it's INSANE to spend hundreds of dollars on one day of fun to simply say "You were born today and I'm glad".
Don't get me wrong, I want it to be special and atheistically pleasing. I WILL buy coordinating plates and napkins. I WILL make a ton of handmade stuff like banners and cute labels for food. My goal is to make it LOOK like million dollars NOT spend a million dollars. That could be the theme of my life :)
So, we I am going with a construction theme. It's gonna be so cute! I can't wait to show you the pictures. In the meantime, here are some seek peeks! And for the record, I am addicted to Pinterest.

Cake inspiration

Trip to the ER

Well, that was fun. Monday I picked C up from school and as soon as the door closed he burst into tears. Totally weird for my child. He's just not a crier. He says his belly hurt. Asked him 500 annoying mommy questions- what did you eat? have you been potty? Etc.
We get home and he can't stand up straight. He can't walk out of the car without doubling over and holding his tummy.
My brain is screaming- APPENDIX!!! I try not to panic and overreact. We go in, try to go potty. We lay down and try to get some rest. I give him a warm bath. I rub his back. Gas drops. Pepto. Nada.
Now, you should know, C has guts of steel. He NEVER complains of an upset tummy. In the close to 2 years we've been home I can't think of a time he's been sick in the tummy department.
Hmmmm. Since he still can't walk straight, we decide to take him to the ER.
We take J to a friends house because babies and ERs DON'T MIX.
At the hospital, C barfs in the lobby and poof, we're taken right back. Apparently they think it's his appendix too. This is NOT looking good.
Tests, tests, and more test. They poke him, prod him, take 5 vials of blood from him, x-ray him.
His nurse is from Russia. She has a tiny matroshka pin on her lapel. I tell her that C is from Russia too. She starts speaking to me in Russian. I tell her "I'm not from Russia, just C..." she is puzzled. But keeps talking to him in Russian even after I tell her I don't think he understands her. But then I look at his face and I think he might....Hmmmm....At least he is very comforted by what she is saying.
After hours of tests, and a hefty chunk of change, the results are in.
MY CHILD IS FULL OF POO.
Awesome. They give him a prescription for some Miralax and off we go.
So, did I overreact? Probably. Was I scared out of my mind? Definitely.
I would like to think I perform well under pressure. Apparently not. I was a crying, blubbering mess. I yelled at my husband, I came unglued that I didn't know what to do. Lord, please keep additional emergencies OFF my plate, because I really did NOT do well. I failed the "Keep Calm and Carry On" portion of my mommy test.
P.S.- The next morning after the Miralax did it's ahem...."Magic" C says "Mama, my sleep made me all better! It fixed me!" Thank goodness baby, thank goodness....