Isabelle’s School Halloween Parade…

Although I have every intention, lately it seems like I haven't been able to blog as much as I'd truly like.  It seems I start one post, get interrupted, and don't ever make my way back to what I was trying to say.  Case in point the blog below I started several weeks ago.  Please forgive me; while all the stores and local radio stations have moved onto celebrating Christmas, we're still reflecting upon Halloween.  I reflect below.

Last Thursday (actually October 31st)  at Isabelle’s school, they had a costume parade in honor of Halloween.  Although Isabelle doesn’t usually go to school on Thursday, I had asked her teacher if Isabelle could still participate and she said they’d gladly have us.

Guess what I am..  Come on, can you guess?

So that morning, we dressed her up and headed off to school.  Upon reaching the front door, I could hear crying coming from all different directions.  Opening the door, it was clear, several little people were not too happy to be dressed in their costumes.  While at first I think Isabelle was confused why she was being taken so late and why the kids were all bawling (seriously who thought 1 year-olds would know a schedule, but seriously they do), but after walking in and seeing her favorite teacher, she adjusted immediately and was convinced she was there for the whole day, never mind she was wearing a really bulky and fluffy costume.

Ms. Carmen gave Isabelle a big hug and then she turned back to gather the other kids to start walking outside for the parade.  I took Isabelle by the hand, so Ms. Carmen could focus on the other 8 or 9 crying babies/toddlers and while I was trying to think what I could do to help, I honestly felt clueless at what I could do.  Ms. Carmen always the cool, calm and happy teacher that she is, smiled and said, “They don’t like changing from our normal schedule.  That isn’t obvious is it?”  While the goal was to have the kids walk out following each other in their costumes for all parents and visitors to see and admire, the reality was there were about 4 or 5 toddlers that were not having any of it, and were not moving unless they were carried.  Thankfully Ms. Ashley the director has lots of prior experience so she disappeared into the neighboring classroom, only to reappear moments later bringing their chariot.  She cheerfully said, “Your chariot awaits precious little ones.”  The next thing I knew four babies were sat in the crib on wheels, aka Chariot and were leading the pack of 1 year olds down the hall to the playground where the parade was waiting to begin.  While I thought Isabelle might have been bothered by all the crying, she didn’t seem fazed at all.  In fact, upon exiting the door and seeing the slide, the temptation was too much and immediately she deviated from the line to attempt to conquer the 4 and 5 year old’s slide on the playground they don’t get to go to.

When one was crying, the other one would look at them and start crying.  Isabelle just sat in the middle thinking, "what in the world is going on?"

 After successfully getting all the kids outside, still more than 70% of them screaming their heads off, pulling on their costume and throwing themselves on the floor in a fit, Ms. Carmen, again as cool as a cucumber sat each child in a row and started blowing bubbles to distract them from their tears.  While my nerves were about shot after only 3 minutes of being there, she was still all smiles.  Just a small testament to the wonderful people God created to be our children’s care providers.


Here Ms. Carmen is doing her best to blow bubbles at the screaming toddlers.  Meanwhile Isabelle decided to take off her shoes and make herself comfy.

 As every single child around her screamed, threw a tantrum and bawled their eyes out, Isabelle sat perfectly content looking around and wondering why she had such a huge costume on.  Within seconds she started playing with her shoe, taking it off and trying to hand it to the bawling Isabelle next to her.  When the other Isabelle had no interest, she looked up to Ms. Carmen, raised her arm with her shoe and repeated over and over, “Shoe” as in, “Put on my shoe.” 

 I couldn’t help but laugh at the complete chaos and cuteness that was happening all in one spot.  While I was feeling the stress the teachers had to feel, I also felt my heart melting with how cute little ones are.  While the parade ended up being a complete flop for the 1 year old classroom, it was a perfect Halloween Parade.   The kids ended up getting a sucker which immediately calmed them down and  the teachers moved everyone back to the classroom where the kiddos felt safe and in their natural surroundings.  Isabelle thought it was great also.  While she wasn’t so excited to leave school, I convinced her to leave with me.  Thank goodness for that sucker.

Who needs to remove the wrapper anyway.  Doesn't it just taste the same with the paper on?

Until next time,

Angie

A year...

Last Friday it was a year. A year since Isabelle became a permanent member of our family. Although from the first moment of seeing her, she was ours forever, in the eyes of the court we had to wait. A wait that some days seemed so painful, so long, that I still have nightmares about how difficult that time was.

But thank God our prayers were answered and she thankfully will stay with us, a part of us, embedded into our hearts and lives forever. 

It’s hard to believe a year has gone by since the day the judge said congratulations. The truth is that even though this year has flown by, I have, each and every day, given thanks that she is still with us.

Just the other day we were talking about the moment we got the call and how quickly things transpired. Driving somewhere with my parents, who happen to be visiting us right now, brought up the topic of conversation. My mom asked, “Boys do you remember the day you met Isabelle?” Thinking they surly had to remember Gabriel said, “Yes, we decided to call her Belle.” “Yes, we got to bring her home.” While the actual first day of meeting her, they only saw her through the photos on the camera while they waited outside the hospital, I think they do remember the drive to the hospital and getting to sit outside in the parking lot with Nana and Papa. While many of the details they don’t seem to recollect, I remember every moment.

I remember getting buzzed back into the nursery and having to show ID to the case workers to indeed verify we were who we said we were. I remember walking nervously into the NICU where a group of nurses were all gathered around her showering her with love. As as we made our way into the room, the nurses parted and my eyes met the miracle that is our daughter Isabelle.

I remember the tears rolling instantly down my face and opening my mouth to voice the feelings in my heart, only to find there were no words to say. My emotions said it all. I remember holding her for the first time and thinking how tiny, how little, how perfect, how precious. With our boys and now her, I knew my life was complete. I don’t think there can be anything greater than feeling that. I remember it like it was yesterday.

Instead it was 630 yesterday’s ago. And while our tiny, precious, unexpected miracle has grown into a stretching, crazy, and wildly adventurous toddler, I can’t imagine my life being any more than what it is.

Isabelle Grace, I don’t know if you or your brothers will ever understand exactly how much your mean to me. While sometimes you test my limits, and push me to boundaries I never knew I could go to; you’ve shown me a love that far surpasses anything I could have ever dreamed of. 

If there is one thing you learn from me in all the lessons I try to teach you, I hope you will remember this….I have never wanted anything more than I have wanted you.

Happy Adoption Day Anniversary Isabelle Grace.  Here's to look forward to many more in the future.

We love you always,

Mom and Dad

 

I was chosen

 

I was wanted

 

I was cherished

 

I grew in their hearts

I was the missing piece

 

I was loved

 

I was adopted

Eight!

Eight. He’s eight. Gabriel is eight.  Today our Gabriel turned eight.  How in the world can my little boy be 8 years old? How can he be double the age he was when our eyes first met each other?  In case it isn't clear, I'm still trying to convince myself its true.

It’s true. And at 4:14 this morning Gabriel was up ready to shout to the world he has indeed grown another year older. He also woke up convinced he had grown at least 6 more inches overnight as he insisted on standing next to dad first, and then me to compare how high his head reaches next to our body. For dad, he thankfully has a ways to go, but me; sadly, I fear next year, I’ll be the one with the shorter height measurements.

Gabriel’s grown so much in the last year, I no longer see him as a little kid, or even a kid kid. Before my eyes he’s transformed into a big kid. At their school fall festival this year, he requested to go on his own and play with his friends. And while we let him do it, I would by lying if I didn't admit, it pulled at my heart strings. Our once little guy is now growing up and with that becoming more independent.  Isnt' that what we all want as parents anyway?  We strive day after day to teach our children right from wrong so that some day they can grow up and become independent adults, capable of achieving success on their own and creating a life that they dreamed of.  Just slightly, I'm starting to see that image appearing for our Gabriel and while I'm happy to see his independence increase, it still does make my heart feel insecure, "Will he stop needing me all together someday?"

 

Thankfully, as fast as Gabriel raced off to be with his friends at the fall festival, Michael was there tugging at my arm, making sure I was still right there with him. While Michael, just a year younger, won’t let us get more than 10 feet away from him than calling us back to make sure we don’t lose him. My what a difference a year makes.  I digress.

Of the many qualities I could use to describe Gabriel, perhaps one of the most prominent is how responsible he can be.  When it comes to caring for his siblings, I never have to worry if Gabriel's in the other room to assist.  He always makes sure his little sister is okay, and can be trusted to help care for both her and Michael when I’m trying to get ready for work. Gabriel without asking often times helps Isabelle get up into her high chair, buckle's her in, gets her a bowl of Cheerios, pours her milk and eats breakfast with her.  And when Gabriel sees Michael doing something he knows isn't right, Gabriel cautiously and carefully states Michael's name in a way that, without voicing any other words, conveys the message that Michael should rethink his actions and choose a different way.  Some days, I wish I had that power.  I guess it is a bond between brothers, I'll forever be in wonder of and respect.

 

Dad and I are so proud of the person Gabriel has been and who is growing into.  And while we sometimes wish he was still our little 4-year-old boy, the one who smiled with his wide smile and heart-melting, innocent eyes, we are extremely thankful for each and everyday we've been called his mom and dad.

 

You know we often talk about the day our lives became intertwined as we nervously waited outside their foster family's door, knowing our lives were going to change forever.  What I didn't realize on that day, was that we'd look back at that day as the moment our lives began.  While Jarrett and I had a wonderful life full of happy memories and times we will cherish forever, on May 7, 2010 our lives truly began. 

 

Our hearts were opened to a new way of looking at life.  To a new way of living, a life greater than our own.  And it was all started with two little boys, two angels and just one of them happened to turn 8 today.

 

We love you Gabriel Joseph.  We love you to the moon, and back and a million times around this earth. 

 

 

Until next time,

Angie,

Happy Halloween!

Its hard to believe Halloween has come and gone.  Where has the year gone?  In some ways, I feel like Halloween snuck up on us.  And when I mean snuck up on us, I mean we didn't make it as big of a celebration that we have in past years.  Of course, we still went and visited Party City multiple times, even in the beginning of August before school started, to start previewing costume options.  And we may or may not have talked about Halloween for months before and have watched multiple Halloween movies and cartoons.  In the end, after our multiple trips to Party City, the costumes of most popular request by the boys were the same ones as last year... Batman and Robin.  And well, since we had already invested in those costumes, we opted not to get any new ones this year.

And then Halloween day came and as nostalgic as Mom can get, I started to feel bad we didn't have any new costumes for the boys.  Isabelle had a full closet full of choices waiting for what ever mood she happened to be in, but the boys, they only had their definitely worn-in ones from last year. So worn in that Gabriel's mask and cape were missing and Michael's mask was being held together with clear packaging tape as it too had seen better days.  Feeling like they were being cheated out of the "getting a new costume" feel, I went to my secret closet stash of stuff I get on clearance after the holidays, and I pulled out two Transformer costumes I had purchased for super cheap two years ago.  I remember when I bought them, thinking, man I'm going to have to wait several years before I can give these to them, they are huge!

So the time had come and while I hadn't looked at them in a really long time, I brought the costumes in the house, still in the bag and handed them over.  It was moments later as the boy's pulled the costumes out, shrieked with excitement and immediately riped open the bag, that my guilt drifted slightly away.  Within seconds Gabriel had his costume up on his legs and was starting to try to pull it up his arms when he said, "MOM, IT DOESN'T FIT!  ITS TOO SMALL!"  Turning around immediately I said, "WHAT?"  surely convinced he intended to say it was too big.  As I looked at the pant legs of his costumes which were more like Capri's than pants, indeed he was correct.  Instantly I started blaming myself, why hadn't I looked at those costumes at least once or twice in the last two years.  Why?  As I picked up the package I was relieved to see, Gabriel had grabbed the costume intended for Michael and Michael had Gabriel's.  Whew, crisis adverted.

The boys changed costumes and while Michael's was definitely a tad snug, it worked for the night.  Now three days after Halloween, I'm not sure it would still fit him. :-) 

The kids had a really fun Halloween and got more candy than we will ever know what to do with.  Actually, I know what to do with it as I sit here eating way more candy than I need to.  Thankfully the boys haven't noticed the decreasing amount in their buckets each morning. Or if they do, they don't say anything.

Trick or Treating was such a highlight for them, Gabriel and Michael would race almost a half a block ahead of us down the street, zig zagging from one side of the street to the other following the lights on the outside of people's home, like bees follow their queen.  While they boys raced ahead, Dad and I were back with our little butterfly, who also thought trick or treating was pretty special as well.  She insisted on walking several blocks, even though we brought the stroller.  We had been practicing for weeks to say, "Trick or Treat" and she repeated it over and over as we made our way down the sidewalk.  Upon walking up to some one's door though, she'd immediately become shy and refused to say anything.  Thankfully her cute looks got her pretty far.  She racked up several packs of M-n-M's  (M&M's) which she can say clear as air and while she wasn't so interested in collecting as much candy as she could, she was very protective of carrying her pumpkin bucket and saying hello to every single dog in the neighborhood. 

As we tucked the kids into bed on Halloween night, we prayed, gave hugs and kissed and said goodnight.  As I was closing the door, Gabriel said "Mom, tonight was so much fun.  Thanks for surprising us with the new costume and for letting us have so much fun.  I'm so tired, but I had so much fun." 

It indeed was a very happy Halloween!

Until next time,
Angie

Wordless Wednesday: Best Friends

 

 

Jack and Isabelle have been good friends for some time.  Recently she has turned into more of a terrorizer of Jack, but I think she does it in all fun.  I honestly think she thinks Jack likes it when she pounds his back and throws his food into his water dish. 

 

The other day I was looking back through pictures and I found the following photos.  It's hard to believe Isabelle has grown so much and in some ways its hard to believe Jack ever let Isabelle get so close to him. 

 

Anyway, as I looked through these, I couldn't help but think about how cute these two buddies look...

 

until next time,
angie

Fost-a-Heart...

On my way to work every morning, I listen to a radio show called John Jay & Rich in the morning.  These two particular radio dj's do some wild and crazy stuff, and while most days I shake my head thinking who in the world would do that; the truth is, they definitely wake me up and keep me entertained.

A few weeks ago, I heard them talk about an event they were helping to sponsor called, Fost-a-Heart.  It was a fund-raising in conjunction with As You Wish (a pottery painting store).  They were encouraging their listeners to go to any local As You Wish Pottery place and for $10.00 individuals could paint a 5x5 "heart" canvas with what ever heart painting they liked.  Of the $10 spent on the activity, $8.00 was going directly back to help children in foster care.  With more than 15,000 children currently in foster care, in Arizona alone, it is clear there is a true need to help this population. 

Not to mention the fact that we have a very near and dear place in our hearts for foster children, foster parents and the foster care system in general.  Without them, our hearts would still be empty. 

After hearing John Jay and Rich promote this program one morning on my way to work, I was sold.  I thought it would be the perfect activity for us to do.  So while my sister Megan and Adam were in town, we scheduled it.  While Adam and Jarrett went to watch the Hawkeye game, Meg, the kids and I went to paint.

I explained to the boys what we were going and how some of the money we paid to have fun painting was going to help other boys and girls who were in the foster care system.  They thought it was a pretty cool thing, as they remember very vividly that portion of their life. 

And while we thought it was neat to be able to give back in a small way, the activity was all about having fun.  While I told the boys they were suppose to decorate their canvas with a heart, Michael and Isabelle decided to do things their own way.  I suppose if you look carefully there is a heart somewhere in their painting.  When we were all finished, I have to say I'm very proud of how each of the kids did in creating their masterpiece. 

Gabriel's heart is absolutely beautiful and reminds me of his own heart.  Full of color, full of life and bursting with love to share with others.

Michael's love of Batman will be forever etched into a painting on our walls.  He did a great job painting his masterpiece.  I can see why Michael's admiration of Batman is so strong.  In someways, they are very similar.  They both prefer to do things their own way, have a very strong mind and are in the end only want the best for others and themselves. 

And then there's Isabelle's painting.  A perfect reflection of her personality.  While full of many colors and emotions, she's constantly moving around into everything and spreading her love to everyone she sees.

I'm so proud of my children and who they are growing up to be.  While the Fost-A-Heart program was a great way to give back to an organization that gave us so much, it was also a fun day to spend together opening our hearts and sharing our love.

Until next time,
Angie

Flashbacks...

Do you ever have those moments where you are in a place and it feels like you've been there before? Or you're doing something new and for the life of you, you can't shake the feeling that it seems all too familiar?  Well today it happened for me.  I was pumping gas.

While Daddy was at work, the kids and I loaded up in the van and headed to the station to get the car gassed up before the busy work week.  Now I've pumped gas many a times, in fact it is a weekly trip among the other errands we do.  Yet this time, it was different. 

As a young girl I remember our family frequently being at the gas station filling up our van.  Moments before pulling into the station, I remember my sisters, brother and I fighting with each other, tattling and messing around.  All things my children now do.  Yet, when our van pulled into the station and under the lights of the gas pump canopy, I distinctly remember, becoming quiet and focusing on the action of filling up our tank.  My dad would get out of the van, while mom stayed in to watch us.  I watched intently as my dad walked to the pump, selected the grade of gas we needed, opened the gas door on our van and pressed the lever to engage the fuel.  I remember thinking it was fascinating to watch him fill it up.  As a kid I wondered what the gas actually did and how they found enough gas to fill all the cars in the world.  As the automatic lever shut off, Dad would grasp the handle and squeeze it until the amount rounded to the next complete dollar.  I guess I never questioned it, and it wasn't until I was in college, when I filled the car one time with Jarrett that he told me I didn't have to try and get the final amount to the closest dollar.  I guess I just assumed that rounding to the nearest dollar was the unspoken rule of filling up with gas. 

Once Dad had rounded to the nearest dollar, he'd looked into the window of the van, where us kids would be seated, and watching him like a Hawk, and then he'd smile.  Knowing we had his attention, my next action was to start tapping on the tinted window, and waving to acknowledge that indeed we could see his smiling face.  I can picture it happening over and over and over at stations all around the great state of Iowa.  After tapping on the glass and waving at Dad, he'd smile back, wave like we hadn't seen each other in a week, and then head back to the driver's seat after returning the gas nozzle. 

While in those moments of routinely tapping, waving and smiling to Dad, there was an exchange of love, never spoken, but definitely felt. 

Today I had a flashback of the exact same moment, except I was the one standing at the pump on the other side of the tinted van window.  As I filled the car with gas, I washed the front and back windows (just as my dad often did), and then I returned to the pump to see how close to the nearest dollar it had stopped at.  Without thinking, I grasped the lever, squeezed and filled the tank til the sale amount on the pump read, $46.01.  "Oh so close", I thought to myself and then I looked up from the tank and straight into the window where Gabriel sat on the other side of the glass.  He was staring straight at me with a wide and genuine smile.  I smiled at him.  He tapped on the window and started waving.  And in that moment, I instantly flash backed to my youth, to the little girl sitting on the other side of the window thinking my dad was the greatest dad in the whole world.  Looking at my son Gabriel, waving at me with pure delight, I couldn't help but feel the love that he was exuding through that window.  In that moment, my heart swelled with happiness and overwhelming love. All with the simple act of getting gas.

In a way it felt like my life had gone full circle.  Where once a little girl sat, a mom of three now stood carrying responsibilities, I thought as a child seemed so big and overwhelming.  While I'm not sure exactly what thoughts were going through Gabriel's mind as he tapped, waved and smiled;  I couldn't help but wonder if he'll some day experience the same flashback as I did.  My hope is, that if he does, he'll have the same happy flashbacks.  The flashbacks that bring memories of love and pride in his family, as I so thankfully have in mine.

Until next time,
Angie

Flashbacks are