Summer Arrives!

Three magical butterflies flutter to an abrupt landing.
Princess Moxie, Princess Diva Darling and Princess Sparky (from left to right).

I have been holding my breath for camp to begin. It started... exhale!
I am thrilled to have some time with just Princess Sparky and to simply BE.

Princess Diva Darling seems to love both summer school (7:30 am to 9am) and camp (9am to 1pm) while Princess Moxie is tolerating it. I remind myself that I hated camp,too, when I went as a kid, and only loved it fondly in my memories. That's just how it is with some experiences.

Diva is naturally more outgoing so it's been easier for her to meet and make friends. Moxie is quieter and more reserved, but each morning at breakfast she prays outloud that she will not be shy. Yesterday at the Village Pool she saw some girls from school and ran over to them. They all played together and I felt a huge sense of relief and hope.

Prior to the start of camp I brought the three Princesses to see the Royal Queen. Each morning we piled the kids into the old red wagon and ambled down the stony street to the beach. We had the most wonderful time! Here they are...




The big girls saw the ocean for the first time. I ought to add a video clip so you can see them react to the awesome sight! They were absolutely GIDDY!

Here is a view, however, of Diva Darling in a more pensive frame of mind:




Each evening we returned to the beach where we found ourselves alone with the waves, sandpipers, and setting sun:





And here's one of Princess Sparky after I told her for the hundredth time, "Put your panties on!"



Hope you're having a day full of laughs and joy...now, go ahead, wear your panties on your head!

Braids and Big Hair

"Hey, we made playdough, and it tastes really salty!"

Hi! A dear friend made a remark that she reads my blog. "Not a lot, of course, 'cause you don't update it often."

So, anonymous sweetie-pie (with the initials "RS") this one is for you!

And to my sweet soul sister in Atlanta (CW) who bemoans that there have been no photos of the girls recently (or ever, likely) I have posted some beauties here for you and your family to enjoy...







Pops taste better when they're shared...




The one above was taken on Picture Day at Princess Sparky's nursery school. I had the girls in darling coordinating dresses, but then they changed their clothes. Then they changed their clothes again. Then they changed their clothes again. So, we were a wee bit late for the "sibling photo shoot" and when we arrived the photographer asked, "What class is this?" I said, "They are siblings." He looked confused. "What class is it?" "They're siblings." I replied. "I'm sorry," he replied, "I don't get you. You teach a class called 'thereciblings'?" I laughed, "This isn't a class. I am their mother...these girls are my daughters... they are sisters...they are siblings." "Ohhhh..."


Have you ever had a Really Big Hair Day? Princess Moxie had a very big hair day recently...


Isn't she adorable?!

And here's another one, but with small hair, of Princess Moxie:





Her sister, Princess Diva Darling, on the other hand, is all about flowers:





And here's Princess Sparky, kicking back, as she listens to some EmmyLou Harris tunes in the car with her daddy:



(Before you go and call the circus, her feet are really not this big. I took the camera from a bad angle as I fell over laughing.)

And here's an even more recent view of Princess Sparky apparently trying to break her wrist just like her Big Sister:






TAKEN IN ETHIOPIA 2008 vs TAKEN IN USA 2009:




Since their June 2008 physical exams, the girls have gained a combined 27 pounds! (Princess Moxie gained 12 pounds and Princess Diva Darling is up 15!) However, they are still slim enough to fit into Princess Sparky's size 4T dresses. It's the little known "Sleep 12 Hours, Eat for 6 Hours Straight-Then Run Around Like Crazy for 6 Hours-Diet." Works if you can keep it up; I've got the first two phases mastered.

That's it for now! May our all-powerful Lord Jesus Christ keep you safe and sound.
Trust Him.
Believe Him.
He's way too loving and good to ignore! :)

Love,
m.

"Um, excuse me, but did I ask you for advice?"

I don't mean to slam anyone here. I just want to point out that people like me are not looking for advice or suggestions unless we actually say things such as, "What do you think of..." or "I'd love your opinion on this..."

Here are some things that have been told to be by random people in our lives as well as absolute strangers since we returned home from Ethiopia:

1. "Your kids should be in school. You should fast track them immediately. They should enter school immediately." (said by a medical professional who met my girls one time.)

2. "You should not put your kids in school yet. They need time to adjust."

3. "You need to buy the hair product in the brown and yellow tube."

4. "You need to buy Soft Sheen by Carson, it's in a pink bottle"

5 "You need to buy Hair Custard, it's available online."

6. "Are your kids always like this? Do you know about Reactive Attachment Disorder and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? You need to set your expectations." (said by a person I met once, at a funeral, before she uttered this gem.)

7. "Your kids should take tennis lessons."

8. "Your kids should be in gymnastics."

9. "Your girls should take karate."

10. "You should keep their hair in braids all the time." (really, all the time? I should never take them out, ever?)

8. "You should have them eat protein all day long." (great idea, I will install a feeding tube in the bathrooms)

9. "You should never give them any sweets." (uh-huh, let me take the lollipop out of your ear."

10. "You should take them to the city as much as possible."

11. "Whatever you, don't bring them to NYC too early."

12. "You should give them Benadryl."

13. "Give them Zyrtek, never give them Benedryl."


Ok, so you get the idea. I smile and say, "Wow. I didn't consider doing that."
And likely still won't.

Just another day at the office...

My college roomate and I had coffee together the other day. She asked me what our days are like. So, here's what happened yesterday...

Morning
Woke up early and did my Bible study and reading for the day. Prayed for wisdom.
Natalie woke up crying. Took her temperature, it was 103. Got her dressed, woke the big girls, and they got ready for school. Gave Natalie some Motrin. Made everyone breakfast. Drove everyone to school and called Natalie's preschool to ensure no one has swine flu :) After an hour, picked the girls up from school. We worked together to clean out the garage. "Dora" wanted me to carry an old dresser from the garage into her bedroom, and when I said it was too heavy she pouted and stopped talking to me.

Mid-morning
Bought a new thermometer and more Motrin. Asked the girls about the bathroom sink that's clogged. "Ochililly." That's the Amharic word for peanuts. "You put peanuts down the drain?" I asked incredulously." The 3-year-old replied, "Oh, no, Mama, not the peanuts, just the shells."
Dora still isn't speaking.

Afternoon
Brought the girls back to school for their speech and language evaluations. The interpreter is Ethiopian and she stopped by afterwards. She had cooked a boat-load of injera and shiro-wat along with gomen and some other things I didn't recognize but was excellent. We enjoyed a cup of tea and lots of dabo with marmelade.

The ESL teacher came over and worked with the girls for 90 minutes while Li slept and I poured Drano down and chased it with kettles of boiling hot water to melt the peanut shells.


Afterwards, all of the girls rode their bikes while I made dinner. Baths, ate, read books, brushed, doled out Motrin and Zyrtek on demand, girls picked out their clothes for the next day, prayed, and went to BED. Dora still isn't talking to me but she put her hand on my shoulder while I read her favorite story, so tomorrow will be fine. I think.


P.S. The plumber came. For $165, he pulled out a Diego toothbrush, half of a purple toothbrush travel holder, and one bar of blue-colored soap, but no peanut shells.

Need to Vent...

I need to vent. Last night we were at a dinner party with many people we've known a long time and some we had never met before. A woman I have met only once before (and that was at a funeral) commented on how beautiful the girls are. She then asked me if I was familiar with "Reactive Attachment Disorder" and "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"Uhh, yes." I replied. And then--stupidly--I did what I often do when people ask me out-of-the-blue questions that are loaded. I gave her personal information that was none of her business.

"I was researching attachment specialists this afternoon," I shared. And, of course, this prolonged the conversation that I didn't want to have.

"Did you find a good one?" While replying to her question, I was churning inside. "Why is she asking me this? Is she a trained attachment specialist who sees obvious evidence of either of these devestating issues? Or is she someone who read an article in Women's Day about traumatized Romanian orphans? Why am I having such a serious conversation with someone I don't know? What's her point?

I often feel like I am on the receiving end of "unsolicited advice-giving" because surely if I had replied that I didn't know a thing about disordered attachment and PTS she would have regaled me with what she knows.

So, there are a few things going on for me during conversations such as these:

1) my own disturbed perspective that I have to answer unwanted questions, that I need to make the person feel valued and respected

2) my annoyance at people who think they know what's going on or is best for my kids (even if they have never spent one full day with them) This happens nearly daily. A stranger will correct my children's behavior, an acquaintance will tell me how and where they should be educated, a church member will tell me what I should do about their hair....BUT I didn't ask for this information and I am not interested in hearing it. Do they think that I just blindly make decisions for my children or am totally clueless??

3) my own insecurities that the stranger might indeed be right.


So, I ask myself, "How ought a real Christian respond?"

The first thing that comes to mind is that I ought to be respectful, concise, and I could do what Jesus often did, ask them a question instead of answering theirs. The adoption literature says that it's fair to respond with, "What makes you ask?" to bizarre questions.

Yet, sometimes I don't want to ask them anything or continue the conversation.

So, today, I am going to start a new strategy. If someone asks me a question that I feel is out of line I am going to turn the conversation off by saying, "That's not something we talk about outside our family."

And for all the people who provide unwanted advice on their behaviour, grooming, education, sports, etc. I am going to say, "Well, that's a decision we made/will make based on everything we know about what's best for our children."

I feel so annoyed when complete strangers ask me about the children's parents. That happened, too, last night. "Do you know what happened to their real parents?" A lady asked.

"Um, we are their real parents. Do you mean their Ethiopian parents?"

"Yes, that's what I meant. They're biological parents."

"Yes, we do," I answered. And she looked at me to give her more information but I just looked into her eyes daring her to ask another personal question.

UUGHHH why do people think that questions like these are okay to ask?

Amharic Church!

Today is May 3, and the big girls and I went to an Ethiopian Church in Amharic this morning. Afterwards, we had traditional Ethiopian food with our new friends, and even met a family of four kids (three from Ethiopia) who live 15 minutes away from us. Among the group was also Sim who teaches Amharic to graduate students and to the youngsters whose parents attend the church service.

A Day for Special Mothers

Three years ago, I dreaded Mother's Day. My husband and I had been struggling with unexplained infertility for 4 1/2 years; although, I always referred to it in monthly time slots. "It's been 50 months," I cried. Then, "We've been trying for 51 months," "Now it's been 53 months," I wept.

I always loved going to church, but not on that day. Every Mother's Day, well-intentioned volunteers would pass out a single rose or daffodil for "all the mothers out there." Most times I would smile and say, "Not for me, thanks." One year I burst into tears, and the kind elderly grandmother said, "There, there, honey, you are a mother-to-be," as she pressed the flower into my empty hand.

This Mother's Day, my husband and I will be celebrating with our three daughters: Natalie, age three, born in China; Alem, age 8, born in Ethiopia; and Alem's biological sister, Dabash, age 10. My heart feels like it will burst with love and joy. I am writing this today to encourage every woman who has felt the torrent of grief, pain, resentment, bewilderment, and anger that pours down due to infertility. Please know that your pain will be transformed into joy.

The path to becoming a family has been long, expensive and challenging. I often thought we would never see it through to fruition. Anyone who knows anyone who has gone through international adoptions knows that this is not a path for wimps.

Today, however, I am not focused on my daughters, or even their biological mothers. (I think about them every day. ) This day I am acutely aware of the women, half a world away, who served as my girls' "special mothers" in their orphanages. These are the young women, Asian and African, who fed and clothed my babies when I was pining for them. They sang songs to them when I all I could do was cry. These gentle, sweet souls prayed for my daughters while I prayed, too. Together, our prayers mingled and raised like incense which I know was pleasing to our Lord.

When I met these ladies--in China they are called "Baby Nannies" and in Ethiopia they were named "Special Mothers" -- I was struck by their sincerity, their joy and their love for the children I would call my daughters.

"I prayed for your girls everyday," one whispered to me in a flower garden outside the African ophanage, "and I also prayed for you."

When the baby nanny hugged my Chinese daughter for the last time she said sweetly in English, "It's time for you to go to your American mommy now, my darling," and she swung her gently to make the baby laugh one last time in her arms.

These are the women I will be thinking about today. You are always in our hearts.

Weird but True Things I have Said

I find myself saying the strangest things. I'm not simply muttering weird things out of the blue; all of what I am saying is in response to the sometimes funny, often times outrageous, behaviour I see in our own home.

During the past week I have actually said these things to one (or more) of the girls:

1. Don't eat your flipflops.

2. Please take your feet off the wall.

3. You can use a knife. Ok, then, use your chopsticks. Never mind, just stop using your hands!

4. Who left the pen in the washing machine? Well, it exploded and now the clothes are clean but they're also stained blue.

5. Why are you wearing your underwear in the tub?

6. May I put some more olive oil in your hair?

7. I know you wrote, "Mom Love" on the backseat of the car. I love you, too, but please don't write on the car seats anymore...only write on paper...here, have some paper...yes, I know you already have a pen.

8. I know you want to be a puppy but I don't like it when you lick my arm.

9. Stop licking the door!

10. Just stop pouring apple juice onto your cereal.

11. Who put that red nail polish all over your face?

12. Is that candy or are you really eating chalk?

13. My name is no longer "Mom." When you want me, just call me, "Daddy..."

For Susan Boyle...

In case you STILL haven't watched this clip on youtube, please please watch it NOW:

www.youtube.com and type in "Susan Boyle." Then sit back and prepare yourself to be moved.

Susan Boyle, you are my hero. You are better than Elaine Page. You rock. For every woman who ever wondered if Botox was a good idea, who thought they had to have beautiful hair and waxed eyebrows, or whiter teeth and tanner skin, you proved to them that you can be respected and adored for simply being yourself.

Dreams never die. They are either alive, achieved, or abandoned. Her performance is a reminder to never put your dreams away in your sock drawer.

For me, becoming a mother was a dream that I feared would be denied. It takes so much patience, perseverance, and stamina to hike up the unbeaten path rather than the ones most trampled. And once the dream is achieved, one needs to be awake and mindful of how precious it is and, perhaps, to dare to dream new dreams...

Just a day

Hi, everyone. I want to take a few minutes to capture some memories before they're forgotten...

Dora and Marta think the word "yummy" means "good." So, they constantly talk about the "yummy playground," describe their beds as "yummy, " and ask me to play "the yummy music." I haven't corrected them yet because I find it highly amusing.

Sometimes our communication misunderstandings are based on their limited English and my very limited Amharic. For days the girls asked me for "carsi," which are socks. I bought them each a package at Walmart. They repeatedly asked for carsi, and I kept getting them socks: gym socks-low cut and ankle-height, dressy socks, even socks with the days of the week on them (thinking what a great educational tool). Finally, while we were in the car surrounded by packages of socks Marta pounded Boots' carseat and said, "Mama, no socks, I want a carsi." Went back into the store and bought two booster seats.

When they were in Africa they must have been told emphatically that they would soon be going with their new family to New York. Unfortunately, they think the word "New York" means "home." So, whenever we are out and getting ready to leave they will ask, "New York to go?" When we spend time with a relative or friend they usually ask if she/he will be spending the night: "New York to sleep?" Nearly everytime we pull into the driveway they laugh merrily and exclaim, "New York, New York!"

This evening, as usual, Marta was riding Boots' tricycle, which is ridiculously funny to watch since she is 51 inches tall and her long skinny legs bend nearly to her head as she rides around. I told her that she needed to come in for bathtime. She stopped the bike, smiled, and said, "Sorry, Mama. No go inside. I'm at Red Light."

A good deal of their English vocabulary has been gleaned from singing songs. One of the traditional songs they like to sing has these lyrics:
"Mister Rabbit, Mister Rabbit, your ears mighty long."

Well, the English as a Second Language (ESL) teacher is Mr. Robert, so you can guess what happens each time he's here...the girls start loudly singing this song as soon as he walks into our house. And it's so darn catchy I find myself humming it all afternoon.

Speaking of music, they LOVE it. They listen to music--all genres--as soon as we are done with breakfast, all day, in the car, in their bedroom, in the playroom, in the kitchen, wherever they are the tunes are on. In addition to the Music Together cds, they love an ABC cd that Natalie received as a gift more than 2 years ago, and they can't get enough of the World Playground cds with songs in French, Arabic, Portuguese, and English. I will never forget the look on Dora's face the first time she listened to opera. She was absolutely radiant, and Marta squeeled with delight.

That's enough for now. I hope if you've read this far you have a better idea what these two amazing girls are like and how much we laugh each day.

Love,
Maura

Life with a rosy glow and pink cast

This week has been very, very good. Here are some of the highlights:

1. The girls started receiving ESL instruction today. The teacher said repeatedly, "I'm amazed at how much English they know." Well, perhaps it's because we have the uncanny combination of smart kids and a mom who constantly talks to them, at them, and with them. We sing. We shout. We harmonize. And we never, ever whisper.

2. I tried to teach the girls how to play racquetball today, and we had a blast smashing the little blue ball around the echoing court. I am beginning to think that tennis or squash might be the sport for these three girls.

3. We found out that a day camp in town costs $5,900 for the summer PER child, and after I finished choking, I found another one that runs for 6 weeks and is only $200!

4. We had fantastic visits with family: Pat and Jen came last weekend; then Dad and Carolann came Friday evening; and Sheila, Kavan and their boys came Sunday. It was wonderful to see everyone and the girls loved meeting more "agundaya."

5. Rachel brought GS cookies, a truckload of gifts, and our new Bible study text called Anointed, Transformed and Redeemed-A Study of David, when we met at Panera. I am so grateful!!

6. Amy stopped by with FOUR bags of clothes, shoes and goodies for the girls. They were ecstatic as they tried on clothes in the living room and pranced around like little naked deer.

7. We received an amazingly generous gift from dear friends of our family. You know who you are, and we are deeply touched!!

8. And the best news of all: Marta's fall off the monkey bars didn't result in a broken arm! It is only her wrist that suffered a "buckle" fracture. Dr. Orthopedist was great; he seemed highly amused by Dora and Boots in particular. He let Marta pick out her favorite color for her cast, and of course, she chose pink. His secy liked us so much she kept us in his office waiting room for three hours...I guess his office staff just didn't want us to leave because we were so entertaining.

Gotta go, Alem is calling and now Natalie is crying...

Questions for Super Nanny

If you find out that the Nanny tv show is looking for a real-life family in the NY Metro Area, feel free to submit our family. I know what I am supposed to do differently (at least some of it) but I'd really like to watch her incorporate "house rules" to children who don't speak her language. I'm eager to see if she loses her cool after one of the kids leaves a car door open or a car light on for the fourth time in a row requiring yet another visit from AAA. I wonder if she would allow all three girls to wear their pajamas outdoors if it means a quieter, calmer morning. I am curious if she would allow 9-year-old children who weigh what an average 7-year-old in America weighs and have the body fat content of a professional athlete to consume 5,000 calories a day (most but not all nutritious food). Would Nanny let the kids sleep late if they were up crying several times? What if sleeping late meant that one of the younger kids didn't make it to preschool? What matters? What really doesn't? And at what point do the things that "don't really matter" begin to add up to the tipping point of really mattering?

I asked myself where God was in all of this, and then I realized (with some degree of horror) that He is in my dining room. The good news is that He knows me and my mess-ups, and He is walking beside me. If I could get the kids to quiet down, perhaps I could hear Him.

Keep those prayers up.

Chicken Tikka Masala and Other Blessings

I want to share yesterday's blessings. Mainly, I am doing this for myself as a reminder of God's work in my life. (When I read scriptures, it's mainly when believers deny or forget God's strong arm and huge heart that the real trouble begins. Check out the life of Moses if you disagree.)

The day started off with Natalie's fever gone. That was a blessing.

The twins cleaned--scrubbed--the kitchen spotless after breakfast without being asked. Blessing number two.

All three of them ate oatmeal without complaining, playing with it, or smearing it around on the table. Blessing Three.

The shower water was hot and plentiful, and the 70-year old pipes didn't clog which meant that the $200 we paid the plumber last night was worth every penny.

The car started despite having a bad battery that I have neglected to have changed.

The policeman who pulled me over for making an illegal left hand turn smiled as he approached our car and instead of giving me a ticket he just reminded me to pay more attention to the road.

There was cash in the ATM.

As we drove east over the Tappan Zee Bridge and marveled at the incredible beauty of the Hudson River, the kids and I sang together with the Jamaican lady on the cd singing, "This is my message to you...Don't worry, everything is going to be all right..." at the top of our lungs with the sunroof open and the warm spring air rushing through our hair.

Then there was more: Amy M. babysat Natalie ALL DAY.

My plan was to drop off Natalie in Westchester and then take the twins to Manhattan for Ethiopian food and to meet an employee of NYU who speaks Amharic. I had left the lady a message offering her to meet us at Awash Restaurant, or if she couldn't meet us we would call her en route to West 4th Street and meet up with her closer to the NYU campus. Another blessing: I found curbside parking! But then I realized I had no quarters for the meter. Next blessing: a guy working on a roof nearby reached down and gave me 8 quarters and shared that the fine would be $125 so keep watch of the time. I love NY. And I love the Lord.

S0, this is where some would say the blessings "dried up."

The Ethiopian restaurant on W. 6th Street was CLOSED.

I had been talking about it for days with the girls and I knew the closest one was on the Upper West Side. Worst of all, I couldn't find my cell phone whichI had used at Amy's house. That meant I couldn't call the lady from NYU to tell her not to meet us at the restaurant. We waited a bit for her, and then I rationalized that she likely had called my cell phone to say she couldn't meet us at lunch. I figured after we ate I'd go back to the car and ask the roofer if I could borrow his phone since we were both out of quarters for me to use a pay phone. So, we wandered West 6th Street ("Little India") with its dozens and dozens of restaurants to decide which one to enter. We started into one, but for some reason I backed away. "Not this one, girls." We walked between 2nd Avenue and 1st Avenue, walked past a place called the Spice Cave, and then re-traced our steps to go in there. It was a typical NYC restaurant: small, dark and cramped. No Zagat rating sticker on the door. We grabbed a table and I ordered for them.

As we ate our tikka masala and delicious nan I heard the waiter ask a newcomer, "Do you want to stay or have take-out?"

Then I heard a female voice ask in response, "Maura? Excuse me, are you Maura?" There was Aday--the lady from NYU whom we were supposed to meet 30 minutes earlier!

She said she had left me a message on my cell saying she'd meet us at Awash and left me another message when she reached Awash and it was closed.

Aday said, "I never came here before. I just wandered around looking at the restaurants. I went into one but then walked out of it. I saw this place and decided I'd do take-out. " She said that she had noticed my girls, who looked Ethiopian and about 9 years old, and then she noticed me. (I do not look Ethiopian.)

She sat down and rattled away in Amharic with the twins for three hours! The girls were animated, talkative, and treated Aday like a long-long sister.

They told her they are very happy living with us, and they shared about their childhood, that Dora knows how to roast coffee beans over a raging fire and can perform the traditional coffee ceremony, that Marta can braid Dora's hair, that they love to cook. They described their home--a tribal hut with no bathroom or running water. Hyenas and packs of wild dogs roamed around the huts, scaring them.

I learned that Dora can actually read Amharic. They went to school for a short while but stopped because they got beat up a lot by other children.

Most importantly, Dora was able to explain why she is awake at night: "My Ethiopian mom died last year. I miss her." And she eventually told her that she's angry with her Ethiopian father who used to steal the mother's hard-earned cash to buy liquor. When he returned drunk to their hut, he'd beat up the twins until the mom stopped him, and then he'd beat her up. She is afraid that the parasites she's being treated for are huge worms in her stomach that are growing larger everyday.

With tears running down her cheeks she told Aday, "My heart beats so hard and fast because the worms are moving in my tummy."

Wouldn't all that keep you up at night?

When we went to leave, they asked me, "Aday, New York to go?" which means "Can she come home with us?"

Oh, how I wish she could!

Specific prayer requests:

1. Please pray that the Lord would heal these girls' hearts. Their grief is tremendous. They need healing and to be set free from their anger and resentment.

2. Please pray that the girls' medical treatment would be swift and effective.

3. Please pray for the girls' father and their 3 brothers in sister still in Ethiopia. The famine is severe and life is so hard.

4. Please pray for the street children who have no family or neighbors to care for them. Please pray for the children, especially the older children, who are in orphanages.

5. Please pray that I would be patient, kind and loving all day. (Please pray this one everyday, ok?!)

God bless you, dear ones.

Our Reality Show

Ok, so I laid out a typical schedule in the previous post. Here is some of the colorful examples of what life is like at 33 Sunrise Avenue:

6:30 AM
Natalie: "Mom, my sister is touching me. Take her back to Ethiopia. Now!"

7:30 AM
Twin #1: "No more 'Dabash.' Call me 'Marta'"
Twin #2: "No more 'Alem.' Call me 'Dora.' "
Natalie: "That's not fair. If she's going to be Dora, I want to be Boots."

9 AM
Dad: "Any reason why your car battery would be dead?"
Mom: "The girls are still learning how to shut car doors. I guess we forgot to check them. I'm sorry."

10 AM
Mom to twins: "Girls, we need to collect stool samples for the doctor. Kaka goes in this plastic cup. Like this, see? Poopoo in this container...? Ok? Next time you go kaka, go in here, yes, I know it's silly and weird and embarrassing. Just do it, ok? No shinte. Just kaka. Then yell, 'mama, kaka here,' and I will come and get it and will spoon it into this little tube. I know this sounds very ridiculous... we don't do this all the time in America...just today, and well, tomorrow, too, and also the next few days, ok? Just don't forget to tell me, don't just leave it in the cup on the bathroom floor, let me know it's there, and don't let Natalie play with it, either. Please be careful and don't kick it over. Thank you, sweeties."

11 AM
Mom to twin#1: "No! That's dog food. Put that bowl down! No eat."

noon
Mom to twin #2: "That's called a water fountain. Clean water, yes, we just have to push a button...no, it never runs out."

6:30 PM
Twin #1: Eating dessert and looking adoringly at her new mother. Twin says, "I love you..." mom looks so pleased until she hears the rest of the sentence..."ice cream."

Things that are new to the twins:
Western style house
doorknobs
dishwasher
washing machine
dryer
cars
seatbelts
planes
single beds
bath tubs with no baskets for babies inside it
food everywhere, anywhere, all for the taking
zippers
buttons
snaps
shiny shoes
new sneakers
snow and ice
shovels
ice cream
mittens and gloves
hairbands of all colors
a closet with all their own clothes
a playground with slides, jungle gyms, and several swings
automatic toilet flushing, automatic faucets, hand dryers, paper towels
computers, keyboards
music class
instruments
piano

Month One

It's hard to know where or how to begin this post. Tomorrow will mark the one month anniversary of our traveling to Addis Ababa. We have had our two girls, "Dora" and "Marta" with us since Sunday, February 16, 2009. We arrived home nearly three weeks ago. It's been organized chaos since then.

A typical day looks something like this:

6:45 am I am up, coffee is made and breakfast is on the table
7:00 am All three girls are up, one or two might be dressed, and we sit down to pray.
9:00 am Breakfast is long over, beds are made, girls are dressed, teeth are brushed, and we are more or less ready to be seen in public. We are on our way to nursery school, the gym, music class or cleaning the house.
10:00 Snack time
11:45 Lunch
12:30 Storytime upstairs, each girl chooses a book, naptime & quiet time begin
2:30 Snack time (again!)
3-4:30 Play outdoors
4:30 Prepare dinner
5:15 Baths for the girls
5:45 Dinner
6:30 Storytime
7:15 Bedtime (that does not necessarily mean "sleep.")
11:30 pm, 1:30 am, 3:30 am typical wake-up times for one or two of the kids

Did you notice that there is no school? Yeah, that has to start sometime soon...and I need to have more time by myself in the morning to pray and read. Also, Bible study starts next week and I will be back to having daily homework. I am in desperate need for time to myself to spend with the Lord. I miss Him even though we talk throughout the day :)

So, that's a day without the details...next post will include some of the specifics of what happens when this schedule is in play.