We have hit the two week mark. It's a milestone worth sharing.
This is when I start feeling like a sane person again and when a baby cries in the middle of the night, I'm not puzzled thinking, "Huh? What is making all that noise?!?" The luggage is unpacked, the jet lag has worn off, the house is kind of back to normal except for the explosion of primary colors trailing throughout the living room floor. And, it feels like I can take a few minutes to write when every other day I would just head straight for a nap.
Here's a few of the details for those of you who are detail kind of people and all happen to ask the same following questions:
Question #1...How'd it go in Ethiopia?
Answer...I have no idea. It is one big, exhausted blur. I do remember picking up the baby, not sleeping, a traditional dinner (ew) in costume and then leaving.
Let's move on.
Question #2... How was the flight?!? (typically asked with eyes widened, mouth formed in a worried, sympathetic expression, hand on shoulder....)
Nugget was amazing. We got the coveted bassinette row. I didn't even know this existed before our trip with Eden. They just hook a little bed/death trap up to the bulk head row and babies can sleep (or not sleep) there instead of sprawled on your lap. Genius. We may have gotten this seat due to some pleading, urgent prayers sent upward while standing at the ticket counter or maybe just because babies trump other passengers when it comes to getting a little bed. I may have let out a little, "Hallelujah. Thank you, Jesus!" when this seat was confirmed and in ROW 10 meaning I could beat out rows 11-46 at deboarding time. However, I soon realized that three other babies would be sharing our special row, my favorite being the mom traveling with a two year old and an eight month old all BY HER LONELY SELF. Said mother may have not brought one item of entertainment for the 17 hour plane ride and I became spare mom to either/both of her children. I digress.
I've told people that our baby was clearly the most prayed for as he was the best behaved and slept not necessarily in the coveted bassinette but mostly on me. I had numb butt cheek syndrome for 15 of the 17 hour ride. We all kind of tanked on the last leg to Grand Rapids. People kept looking at us, some sympathetically and some slightly annoyed. I wanted to stand, turn, and give the "baby has been traveling for 20+ hours so how about you just sip your Diet Coke and move about your business" kind of speech. My favorite moment may have been when I asked some business-looking man if he would like to trade seats with my husband in the back of the plane. He looked hesitant. I lifted sweet, bawling Nugget and said, "Or...you can sit by us!" Business man made his way to the back.
The good news is that we got off that awful, delayed plane and walked down the ramp to the crowd of the devoted/those who had nothing going on that Saturday afternoon and it was just a moment of everything coming together. Three little ones running towards us with tears flowing as I watched them lay eyes of their little bro for the first time. These are the times you don't get to live very often. Well, sort of. I can relive it every day if I want thanks to my girl buddy, pro-photographer/fellow adoptive mom who captured it all in slow mo.
What's the link? So glad you asked.
http://staceyclackphotography.pass.us/scholten/
password: Scholten
Question #3...How's it been going? (ironically asked with the same facial expressions as question #2)
People, he is the cutest little whipper snapper I ever laid eyes on. More pics! More pics! I can hear you chanting...
He's a happy little dude. He smiles easily. He crawls and stands and looks way too little to be doing either. We are all sort of infatuated with him, especially my dear girl, Hannah, who loves everything about babies. Actually mostly she loves that they have to do whatever she wants and won't talk back. I kind of share her feelings. There's something sort of endearing about a little one who has three primary concerns: food, sleep, clean butt and doesn't argue with you when you ask them to put their breakfast dishes away. They snuggle you and bounce up and down because it is just toooooo much fun. When J's excited, his little legs start frantically kicking. He is loving tubs and toys and stroller rides and all things baby.
The doc says he was probably born early. He's made it to the 6th percentile, on target with his age group, a little low in iron and Vitamin D (who isn't?), puking much less (I could tell some stories), sitting up without immediately nose diving and eating everything he finds on the floor. He stand at the window looking outside, reaches for us when visitors come over, drools like a fool and happens to love dad's whiskers (and dad....that is also worth noting).
Uh, and then there are the nights.
They've been, shall we say, sporadic? Some nights (like 3 nights) we're up once or twice for a quick bottle and then back down for the count. And then there are the last few nights of more frequent, special bonding times. Baby likes a bottle...not rocking, not patting the bum, not gentle swaying back and forth. The kid wants a bottle. And so sometimes he just wins and I say, "Have at it. I'm going back to bed." This is a habit we will have to slowly replace. In time. Like when I have more stamina and energy and sleep. OK, maybe never.
We're on our way. Heading in the right direction. Slowly getting to know each other and trust and love and become a family.
There are days...change that....EVERY day, I just look around at this conglomeration of a family. One who talks non-stop, showing signs of becoming a young lady. One climbing the shelves in search of a screw driver to take the wheels off his trucks. Another with her fluffy puffs and her love for music. And the newbie with his easy coming smile....interests still to be determined. I can't help but feel those "quiver is full," "blessed beyond measure", "life doesn't get any better than this" kind of moments. And then they start fighting and I tackle laundry load number 23 for the week, or they spill their cereal on the floor again and it gets crazy. But it's the good kind of crazy. The "this is the best kind of crazy." The kind of crazy that could change in a heartbeat. So for today, I'm taking the messes and the 100 requests all starting with, "MOM!!!!" and I'm soaking it in with a thankful heart and spirit.
Grateful for these kids. My kids.
This is when I start feeling like a sane person again and when a baby cries in the middle of the night, I'm not puzzled thinking, "Huh? What is making all that noise?!?" The luggage is unpacked, the jet lag has worn off, the house is kind of back to normal except for the explosion of primary colors trailing throughout the living room floor. And, it feels like I can take a few minutes to write when every other day I would just head straight for a nap.
Here's a few of the details for those of you who are detail kind of people and all happen to ask the same following questions:
Question #1...How'd it go in Ethiopia?
Answer...I have no idea. It is one big, exhausted blur. I do remember picking up the baby, not sleeping, a traditional dinner (ew) in costume and then leaving.
Question #2... How was the flight?!? (typically asked with eyes widened, mouth formed in a worried, sympathetic expression, hand on shoulder....)
Nugget was amazing. We got the coveted bassinette row. I didn't even know this existed before our trip with Eden. They just hook a little bed/death trap up to the bulk head row and babies can sleep (or not sleep) there instead of sprawled on your lap. Genius. We may have gotten this seat due to some pleading, urgent prayers sent upward while standing at the ticket counter or maybe just because babies trump other passengers when it comes to getting a little bed. I may have let out a little, "Hallelujah. Thank you, Jesus!" when this seat was confirmed and in ROW 10 meaning I could beat out rows 11-46 at deboarding time. However, I soon realized that three other babies would be sharing our special row, my favorite being the mom traveling with a two year old and an eight month old all BY HER LONELY SELF. Said mother may have not brought one item of entertainment for the 17 hour plane ride and I became spare mom to either/both of her children. I digress.
I've told people that our baby was clearly the most prayed for as he was the best behaved and slept not necessarily in the coveted bassinette but mostly on me. I had numb butt cheek syndrome for 15 of the 17 hour ride. We all kind of tanked on the last leg to Grand Rapids. People kept looking at us, some sympathetically and some slightly annoyed. I wanted to stand, turn, and give the "baby has been traveling for 20+ hours so how about you just sip your Diet Coke and move about your business" kind of speech. My favorite moment may have been when I asked some business-looking man if he would like to trade seats with my husband in the back of the plane. He looked hesitant. I lifted sweet, bawling Nugget and said, "Or...you can sit by us!" Business man made his way to the back.
The good news is that we got off that awful, delayed plane and walked down the ramp to the crowd of the devoted/those who had nothing going on that Saturday afternoon and it was just a moment of everything coming together. Three little ones running towards us with tears flowing as I watched them lay eyes of their little bro for the first time. These are the times you don't get to live very often. Well, sort of. I can relive it every day if I want thanks to my girl buddy, pro-photographer/fellow adoptive mom who captured it all in slow mo.
What's the link? So glad you asked.
http://staceyclackphotography.pass.us/scholten/
password: Scholten
Question #3...How's it been going? (ironically asked with the same facial expressions as question #2)
People, he is the cutest little whipper snapper I ever laid eyes on. More pics! More pics! I can hear you chanting...
He's a happy little dude. He smiles easily. He crawls and stands and looks way too little to be doing either. We are all sort of infatuated with him, especially my dear girl, Hannah, who loves everything about babies. Actually mostly she loves that they have to do whatever she wants and won't talk back. I kind of share her feelings. There's something sort of endearing about a little one who has three primary concerns: food, sleep, clean butt and doesn't argue with you when you ask them to put their breakfast dishes away. They snuggle you and bounce up and down because it is just toooooo much fun. When J's excited, his little legs start frantically kicking. He is loving tubs and toys and stroller rides and all things baby.
The doc says he was probably born early. He's made it to the 6th percentile, on target with his age group, a little low in iron and Vitamin D (who isn't?), puking much less (I could tell some stories), sitting up without immediately nose diving and eating everything he finds on the floor. He stand at the window looking outside, reaches for us when visitors come over, drools like a fool and happens to love dad's whiskers (and dad....that is also worth noting).
Uh, and then there are the nights.
They've been, shall we say, sporadic? Some nights (like 3 nights) we're up once or twice for a quick bottle and then back down for the count. And then there are the last few nights of more frequent, special bonding times. Baby likes a bottle...not rocking, not patting the bum, not gentle swaying back and forth. The kid wants a bottle. And so sometimes he just wins and I say, "Have at it. I'm going back to bed." This is a habit we will have to slowly replace. In time. Like when I have more stamina and energy and sleep. OK, maybe never.
We're on our way. Heading in the right direction. Slowly getting to know each other and trust and love and become a family.
There are days...change that....EVERY day, I just look around at this conglomeration of a family. One who talks non-stop, showing signs of becoming a young lady. One climbing the shelves in search of a screw driver to take the wheels off his trucks. Another with her fluffy puffs and her love for music. And the newbie with his easy coming smile....interests still to be determined. I can't help but feel those "quiver is full," "blessed beyond measure", "life doesn't get any better than this" kind of moments. And then they start fighting and I tackle laundry load number 23 for the week, or they spill their cereal on the floor again and it gets crazy. But it's the good kind of crazy. The "this is the best kind of crazy." The kind of crazy that could change in a heartbeat. So for today, I'm taking the messes and the 100 requests all starting with, "MOM!!!!" and I'm soaking it in with a thankful heart and spirit.
Grateful for these kids. My kids.
Beautiful. Love it, and your cute lil' family.
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