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cougar

Edit: I was recently informed this isn’t a cougar.  It’s a leopard.  Which Thane now calls “puppy”.

……

A few months ago I started taking Thane’s stuffed animals and rocking them and hugging them and talking about how we take care of things we love and it’s neat to see him mimic those behaviors with them. He’s picked this cougar from Gigi as his favorite right now.  He’ll go into his room and get it and hug it and then come up to me and put it on my neck, and I give it a hug and cuddle it and then give him a hug and a cuddle.  Sometimes I think when he doesn’t want to ask for a hug he has the cougar do it for him.

And then today, sitting there on the kitchen floor, he took the cougar’s little front paw in his hand and very seriously looked up at me and said “holding holding.”  Which is what we do in the car when I’m driving and he’s getting overwhelmed or frustrated at the red lights.  I love the feeling of that little hand in mine.  I love it when he squeezes it back.  I even love it when he pushes it away after a few seconds because my arm is blocking his view out the window.

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I’m amazed at how his language is exploding right now, and I’m realizing how many little phrases we have that we say all the time to him.  It’s wonderful but intimidating to have a little parrot who doesn’t just pick up on my finer moments.  But today he made me proud when he walked up to me and said “happy!”  Because, yeah, we’re one of those families who talk about our feelings a lot. We’ve been working on learning how to ask for help too, but help proved to be too hard a word so we tried “I need help” which has now become “I nee nee”. Perfection.  He has lots of practice with that one given his new found love of shutting himself in his room without first learning how to work a doorknob.

He’s also started saying “home home” when Daddy gets home from work.  Wow, he loves his Daddy.  He either stands at the top of the stairs and does a little dance while Nate comes through the door or he slides down the stairs and tries to jump into his arms.  It’s like he’s a groupie and Nate’s a rock star.  Which, yeah, I have to agree with too.

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{{Photos taken a week or so ago.

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adoption related seriousness, broken and okay, mountains that don't move, waiting

when the mountains don’t move

So what does it mean when your mountains don’t move?  When you pray the “prayer of faith” but there is no splash at the end to indicate that God was listening?

What does it mean when those same prayers from other lips get answered?  When their “miracle” request is granted and yours gets filed in the trash bin of heaven?

I find myself tempted to believe I didn’t do something right, didn’t pray the right words, didn’t have the right heart.  As if God is a temperamental vending machine and I didn’t hit the right button with the appropriate force.  I find myself wallowing in believing that if I was somehow good enough then my prayers would be answered, my life would be made lovely and easy.  As if those whose lives are a daily struggle for survival somehow did something to deserve their condition.

So maybe it’s good my mountains didn’t move, my personal “miracles” wasn’t granted. Maybe if they had I would believe in the own specialness of my American self.  Maybe I would somehow think that the privileges that come from being born in a wealthy country where opportunities abound somehow said something about my goodness as a person, my deservedness as a human.

Maybe if my mountains had moved I wouldn’t think every day about those around the world whose mountains are so much bigger than mine.  Whose unanswered prayers cost them so much more than mine ever will.  While I pray for paperwork to come in quickly so my son can come home to me others are praying to not die in childbirth and leave their child motherless.  While I cry over months apart from these children I love, others are crying for the food to keep their children alive.  While I wonder why my life has to be tainted by chronic illness others watch their loved ones die from preventable diseases, all because they lack the money for treatment.

Maybe if my mountains had moved I wouldn’t feel compelled to give to others, to do what I can to help their own mountains move, maybe I would have been content to sit and stare at the gap in the horizon and be pleased with my own personal faith and my own personal happiness.  Maybe I would have believed in my own specialness at the cost of forgetting others.

My mountain didn’t move.  But my heart has.

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Uncategorized

random thoughts on a sunday evening

I worked on K’s room this weekend and it’s either going to be really cute or look like Pinterest threw up in there.

Thane said the name of his birthcountry for the first time on Saturday.  I was talking about how much we loved looking at his pictures and how much we loved him and said “when you were a baby…” and he interrupted me and said “C___?” More and more I’m realizing how I have these little phrases I use all the time and he’s picking up on them.  And it makes me want to take another look at what I say and make sure I wouldn’t mind my little shadow repeating them.  Of course he repeated a not so nice word the other day and I howled my head off so there’s that too.

He asks for Gigi and Papa at least twice a day.  So tonight I sat down and counted and realized that this year we’ve seen Papa five times and Gigi seven times (my Dad had to work) and we’ll see them again at Christmas.  That might not sound impressive but considering we live in Seattle and they live in CO I’d say that’s pretty darn amazing. I adore them and am so glad my little guy does too.

He will repeat anything I ask him to now (or try.)  I videoed him saying all the names of the months yesterday.  Adorable.  And he can say all the names of his nine aunts and uncles, their significant others, his five cousins, and his honorary auntie and cousin as well (hi M & K!)

I feel like he’s getting smarter everyday.  Which, duh.  But it’s just shocking to me how he’ll be too young for a book or a toy and then suddenly a week later he can figure it out.

He got his 5th tooth while Gigi was here.  I feel like they’re being ridiculously slow at coming in.  He’s been working on three others for forever it feels like.  Ouch.

Daddy is still his favorite toy.

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{{Filling out paperwork for one baby while another baby climbs all over him.  Talented.}}

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{{Laughing at Daddy’s funny faces and then playing uggamugga (rubbing noses) which he calls ”unnamunna”.}}