Bunny Ears and Spring Snow

I'm sitting in my sunroom, on a completely sun-less day, watching my son eat dirty snow off the slide in our backyard. After teasing us with 80-degree temps on Saturday, I guess Mother Nature wanted one last laugh.







 
This morning we went to an Easter egg hunt at our local library. It's actually one town over, and it's much smaller than our town's library.

On our way to the Hunt. Jack was out of his mind with joy at thought of
hunting for EGGS!

"Give me some EGGS, Mom!"

Because of the smaller size of the library, they are able to really connect with the kids. Ms. Nuccia has storytime every Monday morning for the kids, and she is an absolute delight. She is originally from Italy, and just a hint of an accent makes her voice a tantalizing treat to listen to.

Jack and Ms. Nuccia

Our little friends Alex and Claire join us for storytime each week, and they also went to the Hunt this morning.

"Ok guys, here's the deal: Look for eggs, and put them in your bucket."

I am slightly amused and slightly frustrated that for some strange reason, Jack consistently calls them by the wrong name. He calls Alex Claire and Claire Alex. Actually, he doesn't even call her Alex. He calls her Alice, which makes me laugh out loud every.single.time.

Look! Alice found a blue egg!

"I see it, Mom, but I can't reach it!"

Claire Joy, looking a bit suspicious of the event.

Yes, Heather and I bought them matching bunny ears. And yes, the boy ears had blue sequins.

And, no they didn't stay on very well. They were from the Dollar Store.

As my sister Melody would say, the quality there is a bit lacking...but the prices are pretty good.

Jack had a fabulous time with his bff's...

He was so happy and content and excited...until Claire...

...realized how fun it is to dump the bucket of eggs on the floor.

This did not please Jack. This did not please him at all. That's not how you do it, Claire!

Caught in the act.

Still, all in all a fun time was had, and Jack is anxiously looking forward to another Hunt at our house this weekend. I'm trying to teach him about the REALLY important thing that happened on Easter, but candy.... Jesus? Candy. Candy in the eggs, Mom! [sigh]

...

A few days ago, while talking excitedly with Ken about the Egg Hunt and who would be there, Jack suddenly got a sad look on his face. Ken asked what was wrong. Jack said, "I'm sad, Daddy." Ken asked why, and Jack said, "Because my sister in Ethriopila can't come to the Egg Hunt."

That makes me sad, too, Jack. 

But the way you pronounce Ethiopia? That makes my heart smile.

Bunting Banner

There are times in your life when something radical has to happen. You have little or no power to change your situation, so you clamor to control whatever you can.

That's the situation I find myself in this week. I hate to disappoint you, but I'm not talking about our ongoing adoption journey, our marriage, or the the seemingly endless potty-training adventure we're on with our beloved three-year-old son.

And I hate to perseverate about the weather, but folks, it's not good here in Chicagoland. Today marks the twenty-eighth day of March...and I saw white stuff falling this morning. Sure it only lasted about ten minutes, but still. We started this month like a lion, and it looks like it may end the same way.

In effort to brighten the wintry mood in our home, I decided to make this:

Shabby Creek Cottage generously offered the bunting letters as a free printable. So I downloaded them, printed them, and cut them out. I used my portable paper cutter for the edges and old-fashioned scissors for the inverted-V bottoms.

Then I raided Jack's art supply shelf and found brightly-colored construction paper. I made backings for letters, glue-sticked them together, and then wondered how to hang all these letters.

I took to Google to find a solution. And Pinterest. In the end, I decided to use clothespins so I can reuse the letters for other occasions. I dug around in my sewing box, found a pretty lace trim that was just the right length, and  strung them all together on the kitchen floor. I fastened both ends to the door frame with teeny tiny nails that you can barely see, and voila! A springtime bunting banner.

If you want to make a fun banner for springtime...or a birthday, anniversary, or any other celebration, you can download these fun printables here.

If you make something, please send me a picture so we can all enjoy it!

 Thinking about Spring...
-Luann

It Won't Be Long Now...

Last week I wrote about looking for signs of spring, and I'm happy to report I found them. Last Friday the temperature got up to nearly 60 degrees, and it felt hot as a summer day in July. (Strange how when I lived in Florida, 60 seemed so cold.)

Jack and I were traipsing around the backyard (picking up dog poop, if you really want to know), when I came across these gems. They grow right in the middle of the (mostly dead) grass, and I have no idea what they are. But I'll take them. Aren't they pretty? I'm sure it's a sign...it won't be long now until spring is really here.

  



We also found these bright green stalks coming up through the dead leaves. They looked so pretty with the sun shining on them.




Lucy had a nice romp around the yard, and before long, she and Jack were sitting on the stairs together.

OK, that's not entirely true. Jack was sitting on the step, because I told him to sit for a picture, and then we corralled Lucy and held her down. Jack and Lucy have a "strained" relationship. Jack loves Lucy...but I think Lucy still holds a grudge about the time Jack pulled her down the stairs by her tail.

And the time he tried to stuff her in a paper sack.



We also had a visit from our little red-headed friend last week. Gracie is the daughter of one of my friends from middle school. I am so jealous of her ginger ringlets and clear blue eyes.



The three of us went to Hobby Lobby, and the kids got to pick out a little something to buy. There was a sale, and I had coupons. First Gracie wanted some big metal keys. So Jack wanted big metal keys. Then Gracie changed her mind. She wanted a craft. Jack still wanted to the big metal keys, but he also needed a craft. I finally got him (forced him) to give up the big metal keys, because what on earth was he going to do with big metal keys that are a purely decorative item? There were many tears, but then Grace found a blue Easter bunny she wanted instead of the craft. And then Jack forgot about the big metal keys and also wanted a blue bunny.  [sigh]

Unfortunately, we only saw one blue bunny. Jack didn't want a yellow bunny. He didn't want a pink bunny. Or a green one. Reluctantly, and graciously, Gracie offered to let him have the blue bunny. She would get a different color. But I think we all know what would've happened if she had done that. Suddenly, Jack would've wanted the alternate color. Thankfully, we dug through the bin of bunnies, and Gracie found another blue! So Jack was blissful instead of blue. That afternoon, they both snuggled on the couch with their respective bunnies. Seriously, the softest stuffed animals ever, and pretty cute, too.

 

See the little peacock pillow behind the dog? I made that. I love the fabric. (I designed my whole living room around a picture of a peacock, but I'll save that story for another day.)  Sadly,the pillow, and it's matching counterpart, are very lumpy. I didn't want to over-stuff them, but I couldn't get the filling to behave. Any pillow makers out there know where I went wrong? I am open to opening them and refilling. I think it might be the quality/consistency of the stuffing? It was a polyester something or another.

...

To celebrate the warm weather last week, we decided to barbecue burgers and buy a swing set. I got out the grill, the charcoal, and had the meat ready to make into patties. Just before Ken got home from work, I went out to start the grill. Alas, we were out of lighter fluid! So sad. Instead we went to Jack Straw's a take out hamburger joint in downtown Wheaton. It was our first time there. The burgers were greasy, big, and delish. The fries were salty, greasy, and fried to perfection.

I felt like I needed a digestive cleanse when we were done.

Ken says we are definitely going back.

We had more success with the swing set than the barbequing. I saw a used swing set on Craig's List, but it was on the small side...and used. I emailed the lady, found out she lived nearby and the set was only a year old. But the price wasn't low enough for me to justify getting a used, small, swing set. So we ordered a fairly big metal set from Menards. It was on clearance, but the website said our local store had them in stock.

The next day, the Craig's List lady emailed me to say she decided to cut her price in half(!) I was kinda sad we had ordered the set from Menards. But then, I got an email from Menards. They were out of stock on the set, and they were CANCELLING my order! They said I could get one from another Menards, but they couldn't transfer from one store to another.

It seemed like divine intervention. To make a long story short, we went with the smaller, used set. It's a perfect size for Jack and some of his little pals, and in a couple years when it's all rusted out he'll be ready for something bigger. Plus we saved more than a hundred bucks by going used.

Ken went to the people's house, disassembled the set, loaded it in our minivan (love how much stuff fits in that thing), brought it home, reassembled it, and wa-lah... Jack's dream come true!



 

Seriously, could that slide be any smaller? I have a feeling it will turn into a launching pad for stunts, or something of the like.

Now if we could get some more warm weather (it was 20 last night and more snow tonight), little Jack-Jack could actually play on it.
...

Every night after dinner, Ken and Jack have playtime. They usually play Hide-n-Seek, Quick Hide--the Giants are Coming, or some sort of shadow game with a flashlight. Tonight they did a craft, with only a teeny tiny bit of supervision from mom. (i.e. "Here's the glue, the paper, the cotton, the stickers, put them here, no not there, etc.")

While they made Noah's Ark and pasted in the animals, Ken told Jack the story. It was pretty neat that when we bought this kit last week, we had no idea Jack would be learning about Noah in Cubbies the very next day. So he got a double dose of Noah, which I think made it more interesting for him.

 

I absolutely love watching my boys play and work together. Ken didn't have much experience with kids when we got married, but he is so patient and kind with Jackson. A few days ago I asked Jack, "What is the name of one of your friends?" He looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Uhhh, Daddy!" But of course. I asked him the same thing later in the day, and once again he confirmed that daddy is his bff.
 

 

I was washing the dishes and cleaning up from dinner while they worked on their project, and my favorite moment was when Jack dropped the glue stick and shrieked, "CATASTROPHE!" Seriously, where does my kid get this stuff? Six months ago he could hardly talk!

Here is the almost-finished project. I was sternly told not to look yet, because "it isn't done, Mom!" But I snuck a few pictures anyway.


 

 ...

Before I sign off, a bit of a housekeeping item: A few Facebook friends have left comments and/or sent messages to me and Ken expressing concern about the breaking of my FB fast. They wondered if I had gone back on my word--because they saw a link to my blog on their FB newsfeed.

Oh dear friends. I thank you for your concern about the state of my soul, but as I mentioned in the aforementioned blog, this blog can post automatically to FB with a simple click of a button. I get comments emailed to me.

The good news is that if I should I find myself falling into dire sin of the "break my fast" sort or any other unthinkable evil acts, I will now know who to call upon to set my crooked path straight.

 Looking forward to spring~

-Luann

Irish for a Day

Before Jackson was born, our friends Susan and Bryon gave us a stuffed dog named Scout. Little did we know it would become a beloved toy. It's the official car mascot--always along for the ride. It's also become a bit of a tradition to take a picture on St. Patty's Day with Jack and Scout. It's fun to see how much he's grown.

I'd love to write about all the changes we've seen in the past year in Jack-Jack, but I must make this short. We are having friends over for dinner and there's corned beef brisket, colcannon, horseradish sauce, broccoli and mojito cake to prepare. Not to mention the cleaning. Our little leprechaun is down for a nap, so I have a few hours in which I hope to get a lot done.

Here's a little recap of our last four St. Patrick's Days. Enjoy!


2011--one month old
Jack was so small I had to prop him up--and he kept tipping over! Scout's head is bigger than his, but notice the reddish tint to his hair? That didn't last long. :(


2012--1 year, 1 month
He was such a squirmy worm that the picture ended up blurry. I think this was the best shot out of about 30 attempts. Look at how long and blonde his hair is...evidence we were living in the Sunshine State.

2013--2 years, 1month
Still not talking, but oh what a busy noise maker! He pretty much wanted to do anything but pose for a picture, but I finally got this one. Scout almost didn't make it in the shot.

2014--3 years, 1 month
Jack finally comprehends what it means to sit still and smile. His reward? Getting to see a picture of himself! His hair is darkening--maybe because he's getting older or maybe because we're enduring the longest.winter.ever.

I'm not sure if my photo-taking skills are improving, my subject is getting more handsome, or if it's my new camera, but OH.MY.GOODNESS. Look at this beautiful boy! I can't even stand it.

Wishing you a lucky day filled with leprechauns, rainbows, pots of gold, and the color green (esp. the paper kind with presidential pictures.)

-Luann

Down Deep

Today the temperature reached 50 degrees, and after a long, snowy, cold winter, it felt great to be outdoors. When I took Lucy out to do her business, I walked around the backyard a little bit. The snow has melted around the trees, and I was on the hunt...the hunt for signs of spring.

The former owners of our home were avid gardeners, and last spring we were happily surprised with all kinds of perennials that popped up around the yard. I know it's a bit early, and we've only had a few warm-ish days, but I was hopeful.

I peered down at the muddy mound around the tall tree. [I really should find out what kind of tree that is. It's very tall and the branches don't start until way up high. No nuts or blossoms...any ideas?] Brown leaves, twigs, and the remnants of dirty snow littered the ground.

I squinted my eyes and bent down closer to the earth. Nothing. Not a single shoot of green anywhere.

As I walked back into the house, I wasn't entirely disappointed. I know the daffodils and crocuses and tulips are down deep in the soil, waiting until just the right time to emerge.

It reminded me of the stack of books sitting by my bedside. The titles include Attaching in Adoption, Love in the Driest Season, and Parenting the Hurt Child.

Ken and I have been learning a lot about parenting an adopted child--basically we are told to take everything we know about parenting and do the opposite. OK, maybe it's not quite that extreme, but many of the practical parenting techniques your mom and dad used and you are using or will use--they don't work with kids who have experienced trauma.

I'm not just talking about trauma as we know it--abuse, neglect, that sort of thing. I'm talking about the trauma of your parents dying. Of not having enough food to eat. Of being sent to an orphanage and and having a different caretaker every day of the week. Of having to be extra charming to get the love and attention you desperately need. Of being adopted by white-skinned parents when all you've ever known are brown-skinned folks. Of moving to a new country where the people speak a different language, eat different food, and you don't know a single person. Of being expected to be grateful for being given a new family, when all you really want is your birth family...a mom that looks like you, siblings that understand your history.

It's not unusual for these children to act like a wounded animal, lashing out at anyone who comes too close. It's common for these kids to initially reject their new mother. After all, their first mother is gone...if they get too close will this new one leave also?

So how does this relate to me peering down at the ground, looking for signs of life? A flower bulb is basically an underground storehouse / flower factory. Within the bulb is nearly everything the plant will need to sprout and bloom at the appropriate time. But it does take time.

Kids from hard places may act like they don't want to be a part of a family. They may have so much emotional scar tissue surrounding their hearts that people wonder if they'll ever break through the walls. But deep down, there is a unique human being, created in the image of God, capable of loving and being loved. Capable of being a contributing part of a family unit. Sometimes it just takes some time to see signs of life pop up through the mire.


But this is the process of redemption. And when we take part in loving a hurt child, when we enter into their world in order to bring healing, we take part in something that is the very heartbeat of God. Redemption. That's why Jesus is called the Redeemer.

As we read through all these books, I hope to share more as we learn more. It's a lot of information to process, and it helps to summarize what we're learning. Hopefully it will also help you understand the possible struggles we as a family will face so you can better support and pray for us.

 Tomorrow, in addition to searching for green stuff on the ground, I will continue to paint some bedroom furniture for our girl's room. I started painting a daybed last weekend, and the spindles on the back of the bed were very nearly the end of me. But now I have a plan of attack, and a new paintbrush, so I am praying it goes better tomorrow and I don't get many more gray hairs. [By the way, why didn't anyone ever tell me that gray hairs would be wiry little sons-of-guns that stick straight up out of my part?]

The grandmother clock just chimed to tell me it's 11:30. Time for bed, friends. What's on your agenda for the weekend?

Luann