Dear Mama...

It's been more than three months since I hugged your neck goodbye.  You kissed your baby, buckled her up, and we drove away.  You may never see this, but I am writing to you anyway.


You have missed so much already.  I remember us celebrating her learning to roll over the last time we were together.  You wouldn't believe what she has done since then!  In the last 100+ days your baby has learned to sit up, wave, clap, feed herself puffs, laugh, and go to sleep without being rocked.  She loves veggies more than fruit (that is a first in our house).  She also has two teeth and is finally getting some hair.  I know you would be excited about that with me.


The most exciting?  LOOK AT THIS!

She is incredible.  Time is flying and she is proving to be a determined little person.  She is getting more of an opinion and is not a fan of being told no.  When we take something away that wouldn’t be safe for her to play with, boy does she lets us know about it.  She is smart, I can already tell.  


Remember her smile?  It still lights up a room and it is the most defining thing about her personality.  She is such a happy kid.  I hope that she will always be happy, but I know there will be sad days down the road.  We all have to deal with things that are difficult and we all have sad days.  It's an inevitable part of life.  Sometimes I feel like I already know what some of those things will be for her though.


As I look at her sweet face I still see you.  I see your eyes.  I see the same dimple in her cheek that you have in yours.  The reminder is that no matter where you are you will always be a part of her.


I anticipate that you will always be important to her in ways that I won't fully understand.  If she is still with us years down the road, she may ask me questions about the short time that I had to know you and want to know what you were like.  She will wonder if she is like you.  She will probably look at pictures of the two of you together and wonder other things like…Why didn't you fight harder?  Why wasn't she important enough to you?  I weep about these things because I know it doesn't have anything to do with her.  I'm just afraid my answers will always be up against the lies of the enemy who will want her to believe that she "wasn't enough" and will want her to think that she should have been.  The truth is, no one is "enough" to compete with a stronghold that controls your life.  I cannot even wrap my mind around some struggles you have, but I know that no one on the planet can convince you to fight it unless you are ready.  You have to want it.  You have to be desperate to be free.  You have to hate what it is doing to you.  You have to see it with different eyes.  You have to be willing to leave all that you know and start over with new people.  You have to face some things you are running from, like pain, regret, and shame.  You have to be vulnerable.  You have to be willing to forgive others and humble yourself so that you can receive it as well.  You have to let new people into your life that want your freedom too, even when you want to run back.  More than anything, you need God and His help to overcome it.  Your kids should add fuel to the fire but they cannot be the only reason you have to fight.  I know you know that.


Knowing the truth will never matter though, unless you are ready. 


If and when those questions come up, and as many times as she needs to hear it, we will tell her what is true.  She IS precious and wanted.  She IS worth fighting for.  She IS loved and important enough to do whatever it takes to protect her and know that she is loved.  No matter who has the great privilege of raising her, there is a Savior who did all of that so she would never have to live with those lies.  He died for her and fought for her freedom from the grips of sin and the enemy long before she was knit together in your womb.  I hope that His love for her, His protection over her from the very beginning, and all that He does in her life will one day bring her heart to a place of surrender, trust, and overwhelming joy. 


I can see all of that for her already, but it won't matter until she sees if for herself.


The last eight months have really drove home the fact that no one can ever force us to see the truth, embrace the truth, or live any other way than how we ultimately want to.  This quote came across my Facebook feed a few months ago and it has resonated…


“If you really want to do something, you'll find a way. If you don't, you'll find an excuse." - Jim Rohn


We can blame others and make them our excuse, but at the end of the day we have to decide what we want to live for.  If we want to overcome, heal, or fight for freedom we need the help of others, but no one can choose it for us.  I still believe God is absolutely able to deliver you, but you have to surrender your life to Him.  The same thing is true for me and every human being on the planet.


We still love you.  While we wait and pray, we will keep loving your baby.  She is wonderful and we thank God for the gift of her life that came through you.  We understand the weight of that.  We are blessed beyond measure to have her with us and to be a part of her life.


So, until we meet again...


Your baby's foster mama

Birthdays, Holidays, and Not So Fun Days

Hello again friends and family.  Anyone interested in a long overdue update from our clan?

I haven't touched the keys on my computer for about two months.  A lot has gone on since my last post and not much time to sit down and write about it.  Jeff lost his second grandpa in 6 months back in November.  His family has been grieving on both sides and I have hated it, especially for his mom and dad.  I had the honor of watching them all come together and get through the holidays with such grace. Loss is hard.

Also in the "not so fun days" category would be the stomach bug that ran through all the bio kids once, and Ella actually three times.  She had a long list of weird health issues (I'll spare you the details) for about two weeks. The events of December resulted in roughly 5 trips to the doctor. One morning, when Ella was sick for a third time, she was laying on a pallet in the living room just looking at the Christmas tree.  She said, "maybe next Cwistmas I won't be sick, Mommy."  Ugh.  Toward the end of her whole ordeal she was crying one night I just started crying too.  I didn't know how to help.  I HATE not knowing how to help.  All that I had left was to join her in her tears.  I don't know that a three year old finds any comfort in that, so thankfully Jeff stepped in.  We still don't really know what caused some strange things to happen in her little body but she seems to be doing great now.  We will just blame it on a "virus."  That is what everything is that you can't diagnose in kids.  I guess I can live with that.  I'm just glad that it wasn't any of the terminal illnesses I found doing online research which seemed to fit her symptoms.  I'm well aware it's bad idea to do that, but I wanted answers and no one had any.  The real fallout from it all is that I am now in a state of paranoia.  Any weird look on one of the kid's faces makes me want to hunker down, prepare for the worst, and cancel all plans.  In the span of 24 hours I thought Avery was coming down with strep, then pink eye, and I thought L had a stomach bug.  Crazy much?  Nothing turned out to be wrong with either one of them upon my waiting a few hours and CHILLING OUT.  At least I'm aware of my problem.

On to happier events...

We celebrated Ella's third birthday with family back in November.  She is a big Doc McStuffins fan.  However, I tried to kill two birds with one stone by purchasing the Doc MsStuffins costume for her to wear on Halloween, which would also double as a birthday gift/something fun to wear at her party.  On Halloween she wouldn't have anything to do with it.  I was frustrated with her and planned to take it back the next day to get my money back (thank you very much, sassy pants).  Before I could get it returned she begged me to keep it for her party.  So, in short,  I lost...then I thought I was going to win..then I lost again.  I let her keep it only because it was her birthday and it was going to be so dang cute.

See what I mean?

If you live near Jefferson City allow me to recommend my friends, the Barbs, for all your cookie needs.
They blew my expectations out of the water with these.  

I may have these events out of order, but Micah also had a big event in November.  He received the "Respectful" award for his class in the first quarter.  We are so proud of him.  It was actually the second year in a row that he received this award.  This award means more to us than a perfect grade card.  You would assume that nothing in the world cause us to forget about the special assembly where he was going to receive this honor.  Right?  RIGHT?  Except that is precisely what we did.  Jeff dropped him off at school just minutes before the assembly was going to start and saw the grandpa of one of Micah's friends walking in...didn't register.  I was at home just doing something that I don't even remember.  Only when my sweet friend, Sarah, sent me a text that afternoon did it hit me.  Her daughter received the same award for her class so, naturally, like a good mother she went.  She said, "I saw Micah get his award today!" Mother guilt.  How could I forget?!  I asked her questions to try and feel out his level of disappointment before we picked him up at the end of the day.  I don't know if it was already decided that Jeff would pick him up or if I threw him under the bus, but anyway, Jeff picked him up.  Not surprising, he was hurt that we didn't come.  We quickly rebounded from our failure and celebrated his achievement by going to his favorite restaurant, McDonald's (don't judge uber healthy friends).  Our sins were forgiven.

Jeff and I celebrated 10 years of wedded bliss in November, which I gushed over in my last post.  We struggled to find a good time to get away because of the uncertainty with his grandpa.  So, one night we decided to just go on a date until we could really get away.  Bri came over and freed us up to leave for a nice evening alone.  We get in the car and I point out that it sounds weird.  Jeff says, "yeah, it's sounded that way for a while.  I'm pretty sure it's the belt.  I think it will be fine."  I wasn't as sure.  Half way down our street he offers to go back so we can take the van...but let it be known...I said no.  I take responsibility for that.  For, you know, trusting his judgement about it.  I kid.  I kid. ;) We found out 10 miles north of town that it apparently wasn't "fine" though.

"Hold it up proudly!"  It was a good thing he's so cute. :)

Thankfully, we were able to drive it back to a shop to leave it there for the night.  Our good friend, Joe Banderman, drove in from another town and picked us up like kids that needed a chaperone.  He was our hero and gave us a lift back to the house.  We got in our other sweet ride, a 2002 Honda Odyssey minivan (don't be jealous) for our second attempt at a night on the town.  We drove to our next choice for dinner.  It was closed.  For our third attempt we went to  Long Horn which is about 3 miles from our house.  In the end, after I had a bad attitude for about 30 minutes, I was thankful that we weren't in a wreck or stranded anywhere.  The food was good and we connected.  We'll call that a win.  We ended up getting to have a terrific weekend getaway to Kansas City a couple weeks later.  We had live jazz, Ethiopian food, a great hotel, super kind people everywhere we went, a movie we really wanted to see, lots of rest, and a little shopping.  I was so grateful for that time away.  We hadn't been away together since we added L to the family and we needed it.

We went back to the Cheesecake Factory where we had our first date 11 years ago.

We love getting to see Lonnie McFadden at The Phoenix.  He is amazingly talented.

I will wrap up this post with a few pictures and just say that I can look back over these last couple of months with sincere gratitude.  We have much to be thankful for and the pictures prove it.

We celebrated Jeff's 33rd birthday!

The kids were more helpful this year putting up the tree.  It felt like a milestone in parenting.  They had a lot of fun remembering ornaments from years gone by too.  It was a surprisingly pleasant time.

A little Charlie Brown makes everyone feel better.

Jeff is now the official cinnamon roll maker for family gatherings on my side.  He can pretty much do everything better than me.  If I didn't reap the benefits of this, I might hate his guts for it.  ;)

I regret how few pictures I took during Christmas celebrations with family, but this picture is a reminder of how special it was getting to celebrate L's first Christmas with her.  Both sides of our family loved on her like she was born into the family.  That meant more to us than they may ever know.

Micah lost his first tooth!  I remember what a big deal it was when a tooth finally came in and now 6 years later we are celebrating that it came out.  I have mixed emotions about how fast time is passing.

 

For Micah's 7th birthday we had a double birthday party with some good friends at the ARC in Columbia.  I will share more pictures from the day when I can somehow get them from the thoughtful mom who actually brought her camera to the party (thanks Rachel!).  I think Micah would say that this was THE BEST birthday ever.  It was a fun day!

Thanks for hanging in there to the end.  I would resolve to have more frequent posts in the new year, but we all know how resolutions usually go...and I hate feeling defeated. What I actually need is for someone to magically grant me 48 hours in the day.  I could get so much done.  Until that happens, I hope you will enjoy sporadic updates from the Carson family in 2015. :)

More Than I Bargained For

 One decade ago. 

I have been married to this guy for 10 whole years now.  Don't judge, but we were in junior high when we got married.  We had to be.  My brain tells me I'm still in my twenties.  My denial bounces along, going about it's merry way until I look in the mirror.  Then I remember...oh yeah, I'm definitely in my thirties.  There are some things I miss about being that young but some things are better, healthier, and deeper than they were back then.  The trade off is actually worth it.  Don't tempt my flesh and try to sell me any anti-aging creams after you read this.  Stay focused here.  What I really want you to know is that next to following Jesus, marrying Jeff Carson is the best decision I have ever made.  I got way more than I bargained for on that day in 2004.  It has everything to do with the character of the man I married and a God who has not let us go.  It has nothing to do with a beautiful day that cost our parents a lot of money and all of us a lot of stress to plan.  Don't mistake that for ungratefulness.  I am so thankful for all that our parents gave to make that day happen and how they supported us.  This is my point...

In the grand scheme of life, that day was a blip on the screen.  I cannot convey how thankful I am for that.

Here is what I remember about our wedding day: It was good.  Our flowers and cake were beautiful.  But listen people who have not yet planned a wedding...can you imagine how difficult this task would be without Pinterest?  Digital photography wasn't on the scene yet either.  Pick your jaw up off the floor.  No one could edit the day to make it look a little more magical or me more beautiful/less shiny than I was.  Can you fathom this?  I kid.  The real story is that there was a mishap during our vows where someone might have passed out (I regret that our wedding video no longer plays for that reason alone).  I'm pretty sure we didn't get access to the reception hall as early as expected to set up (it's a little fuzzy now) and some details hadn’t been thought through by yours truly, which made parts of the day a bit chaotic, and even lonely.  The whole day had been laden with expectation, as is normal for your wedding day, and some of the details just came up a little short. Unmet expectations about life could probably describe most of my 20’s.  I lost a good part of a decade to that.  Don't be like me.

Honestly, the most magical part of the day happened when we walked into the hotel lobby and perfect strangers began to clap and cheer.  A random guy also gave us $20 to see his favorite movie.  We totally didn’t see it.  Sorry man, but we were really really grateful for the 20 bucks.  We were so broke. The reason it felt so magical was because it was unexpected.  I didn't expect anything awesome when we walked through the doors to the hotel lobby.  It is a sweet memory.

Regardless of how the details played out….WE WERE MARRIED.  Mission accomplished. 

Our honeymoon was spectacular.  We were rookie travelers.  I was selling Mary Kay for extra money at the time (which ironically sent me into more debt than I was already in) and had “won” a free cruise to the Bahamas.  We were poor so it was our only chance at any sort of tropical getaway.  Our cruise was actually a day trip from Miami to the Bahamas on a boat that hadn’t been updated since the 70's.  At dinner we sat with an older British couple who had also won this free trip somehow.  The husband said, “Accepting this prize is one of the worst decisions we've ever made.  This isn’t a cruise.  It’s a ferry boat ride.”  You could hear the proverbial air coming out of the balloon he just popped.  Thank you for that boost in morale.  It made it harder for us to pretend like this was everything we hoped it would be.  We were not comfortable enough to laugh about things like that yet.  When we arrived in the Bahamas it was like a ghost town.  A hurricane had ripped through the island about a month prior to our arrival.  The bottoms of the trees were black like they had been set on fire.  Many shops and restaurants were still closed.  We chose not to upgrade our trip so we had to take a bus ride if we actually wanted to visit the beach. I got sick with a bladder infection and we had to cancel our snorkeling excursion…our only excursion…a non-refundable excursion.  I felt crappy, couldn’t go to a doctor, and we found ourselves eating pb&j sandwiches in our room after we walked to the local Winn Dixie.  Super dreamy.

By far the biggest highlight of our trip was the night we tried to go out to dinner.  My memory is fuzzy about how we got from our hotel to the restaurant, but all I know is we had no transportation back to the hotel once we got there.  Maybe it’s because we had no way of calling a cab and there was no electricity in this joint.  It was dark when we walked in.  People were in there but the kitchen was clearly out of order.  We were hungry and determined to not eat pb&j sandwiches in our room.  So, of course, when the guy with a 15 passenger van offered to give us a ride to another restaurant we saw no “good and logical” reason to say no.  We hopped right in and put our lives in the hands of this stranger in a land far from home with no way to call for help.  God, please make our kids smarter than us.  How we didn’t end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries is a modern day miracle.  He dumped us off unharmed at another restaurant.  We walk in to this place and there is not another soul to be found dining there.  The owner greets us and seats us at our table.  There was no music in the background to lessen the awkwardness, only us having a whisper tone conversation.  I am pretty sure she may have cooked our meal after we ordered it, because she disappeared for a long time until she came back with our food.  The best part?  When we finished eating she locked the place up and gave us a ride back to our hotel.  We pretty much went to a stranger's house for dinner.  I still die laughing on the inside when I think about this.  It was not exactly the trip of our dreams.  We were pretty ready to just get back home and do normal life together. 

Our normal life was awesome.  We were living in Houston, Texas and neither one of us had a job.  That's a good start, right?  I quickly got hired at a YMCA doing after school care 20 hours a week.  That place was such a hole.  It was me and another girl in a trailer with 25 fifth graders for four hours every day with little to no plan.  Just torture for four hours every day.  It was dreadful and I would come home crying on some days.  I did not miss my calling as a teacher.  Jeff was feverishly looking for a full time job which was yielding no success.  I ended up going back to Starbucks (for an increase in pay…not kidding) and Jeff started working at Lowes.  

We were living on love and wedding money.  Thankfully our love outlasted the wedding money.  

We made some good memories our first year.  We got to enjoy some fun things in Houston and could spend our free time however we wanted.  Those days are over. :)   The flip side of our first year included joblessness, financial struggle, a miscarriage, the loss of a cousin, job changes, and a move.  I struggled deeply with grief and should have gone to counseling, but I didn't have the guts to take the step and I didn't know how we would pay for it.  But you know who didn't run away or regret his decision to marry this mess?  Jeff Carson.  On days when I wasn't sure who I was anymore, he remembered for me.  He has been the picture of Christ's steadfast love in my life.  When I have struggled, he has listened, prayed, and been there.  He has proved his metal over and over.  I love him so much more now than my fluttering heart did 10 years ago.

I realize crazy things happen.  People get duped.  I am no marriage expert, but I can tell you what will help a marriage last...

Cling to God always and especially when it gets hard, even if you find yourself holding on by a thread.  

Know the character of the person you are marrying.  The testimony of Jeff Carson was consistent from friends, family, and what I observed when we were together.  I never had a doubt in the back of my mind about who he really was.  

Be vulnerable...laugh together and cry together, don't get numb.  If you start feeling that way, figure out why.

Be honest.  

Ask for forgiveness and give it generously.  

Have friends with good marriages that will encourage yours.  

Have a "yes" on the table to counseling if either one of you would ever say, "we/I need it."  We did cross that bridge a couple years ago and God rescued my heart once again, with Jeff right by my side.  

I love this man.  I don't claim that he is perfect or better than your husband if you're married.  I do claim that he was the best choice for me, and I had no idea how much I was getting that day in November when we said, "I do."  I am overwhelmed by the grace of God.  His presence in our life is the glue that has held us together.  I trust that He will continue to hold us until the day He calls us home.  I don't know what the days or years will look like in front of us but I know who I want to face them with.  So, as we cross the threshold of 10 years together we will keep doing what has worked and change it up when it doesn't. We will hold fast to our Constant.  We'll keep praying together, trusting God together, and we'll follow wherever He leads us hand in hand.  I could ask for no better running mate than the one I have in this man.

Here's to 10 years and God willing, many more...

Five Months Ago Today

I know reflection is important.  Writing things down is important too.  Joan Shaw, the wisest woman in our church, has said this over and over (I think I know where she got the idea).  I want to be like her when I grow up.  I'm just not very good at practicing this with pen on paper which is partially why I started a blog.  I know I have already forgotten moments that I wish I would have written down over the last five months.  It's been a little busy though.  SO, before it's too late I am going to do some reflecting today.  If you like picture books, this post will be right up your alley.

Five months ago today I was getting my hair done and looking forward to a boring weekend at home with the fam.  While I was in the the check out line I got a text from Jeff and a phone call from Children's Division.  Suddenly we were getting ready to bring a newborn home from the hospital the next day.  I can write that without ALL CAPS five months later.  I mean, what was the big deal?   Less than 24 hours later we met this little girl.

First time we laid eyes on her in that quiet hospital room.

Feeding L for the first time before we took her home.

Strapped in and coming home with us about 30 minutes after our introduction.

Taking a nap with Daddy C when we got home from the hospital.

On that day I had no idea that she was going to be the sweetest baby I have ever known.  I thought we may be buckling up for a wild ride of scary health issues and non-stop crying.

This is pretty much what she did the first three months.  I took her to the doctor at one point because all she was doing was eating, sleeping, and needing diaper changes.  READ: She was being too good.  I thought something had to be wrong.  Paranoid much? :)

I also had no idea how amazing our own kids would be.  I thought there would be a lot of emotional unrest while they got used to a baby being around.  I can only say one thing about how it all actually turned out...God had mercy on us.  All of us.  God answered the prayers of many who were lifting us up during that time with a resounding yes, and we give Him praise.  Our kids are nuts about her.  She has brought out the most tender and caring parts of them.  Don't get me wrong, they didn't get halos the day we brought her home (as highlighted in my last post), but there are moments that have made me stop and catch my breath.  I have to share a few of those.

The moment we got home with L and came upstairs, the girls wanted to sing Jesus Loves Me to her.  So they did.  It was precious. 

This is supposed to say, "Have a lovable hugable day."

Micah was a little disappointed when he found out we were getting another girl. Bless his heart. :)  I think it is safe to say that he got over it pretty quickly.  He was cranking these pictures out before he left for school only two days after she came to stay with us.

 Micah has probably amazed me the most.  She has drawn out compassion in him that I didn't know existed.  He has risen to the occasion of being a big foster brother.  When she first came home with us we talked to the kids about how our job was just to love love love this baby.  I told them that it was helping her little body and brain to heal and develop when we sing, talk to her, kiss her cheeks, hold her, and pray over her.  Micah took me seriously.  One day he was rubbing her head and talking to her when he looked up at me and said, "Is it working, Mom?"  I said, "YES. You can't see it but her little brain is growing and going like fireworks right now. You are doing a great job."

One day he wanted me to read him a letter from her mommy that we had received.  After much begging I gave in.  He disappeared out of the kitchen as soon as I was done reading and I thought he wasn't really interested anymore.  A few minutes later he came back in and said, "That letter makes me feel sad."  "It is sad," I told him.  He didn't have anything else to say about it, but he and Avery both seem to understand that she is with us because her mommy and daddy can't take care of her...and that is sad.  They know that kids are supposed to be with their mommy and daddy.  They love theirs, as imperfect as we are, and want L to be able to go home to hers.  On some days they feel bad for her mommy when we have to take her home with us after a visit.  They will pray for her randomly on days when my heart would like to harden towards her.  They treat her with respect and call her by name.  They acknowledge that she is L's mommy.  At our first visit we had Micah give her a bouquet of flowers when we came in.  I know that how our kids have treated her has made a significant impression on her and our caseworker.

Make no mistake, God uses kids.

In the beginning, both of the girls wanted to hold and feed her constantly.  Their baby dolls became obsolete because they now had a REAL one to play with.  Now that L is only ten pounds behind Ella and doesn't just lay there like a baby doll, the fascination is fading.  There is no shortage of kisses though.  I feel smothered on her behalf but she rarely seems to mind.  Ella has happily turned in her "Baby of the Family" title.  She has not been jealous at all and I am so proud of her.  One night on our way out to meet with our church she said, "I'm so glad we have a fostuh baby." During the first couple of months she would tell just about everyone we met, "We have a fostuh baby!"  People generally didn't get what she was saying without the "r" but they would smile at her anyway.  It made my heart glad to know how proud she is of L.

Side note:  Ella loves wearing her "cabe."  More commonly known as a cape or hooded towel. :)

Avery was born for this.  She has mastered mothering already, so this was the perfect occasion to use her expertise.  We have to remind her that unless someone is willingly pretending with her, she is not anyone's mother.  She herself has only been outside of the womb for 4 years but she is at least 24 in her own mind.  She is stubborn as all get out sometimes, overly emotional at moments, but care taking is so natural and intuitive to her.  It's amazing.  She sees the best in others.  Just this week when we were getting ready for L's visit with her mama Avery wanted to curl her hair.  "I bet L's mom will think I look so pretty."  L's mom didn't come to the visit and she got worried about her. She whispered in my ear,  "Mommy, maybe she is sick.  Tell ______(the caseworker) that she is sick."  Bless her heart.  I know that she is young and doesn't know what's going on, but I love her tender heart.  She also said later that day, "L is the cutest baby ever.  I just can't stop loving her!"

Avery thought that L was feeling left out so she pulled up a chair to play with her.  She wants everyone to feel included.  Don't mind the scuffle happening in the background.  Micah had been home three (too many) days from school that week with a fever and we had been misplaced from our home for a few days because our AC went out in August.  We were all handling it like champs.  Nothing but rainbows and sunshine... ;)

You should also know that L is rolling over, starting to eat cereal and putting her toes in her mouth these days.  She is doing fantastic.  She still spits up more than any baby I know, drools like crazy, and has the occasional blowout. She's just gotta keep up with Avery and Ella's 5+ wardrobe changes a day, ya know.  She smiles a lot, is awake a lot more during the day now, and sleeping an average of 11 hours a night (bless the Lord, oh my soul).  She is a super happy baby but when she does get mad that girl can scream.  She will be heard if she wants to be heard. :)

As far as foster care is concerned, this story is not the norm.  I have the utmost respect for those who say yes to babies and children who are struggling with health issues, trauma, neglect, and loss.  You are amazing.  May God strengthen you day by day.  This is just the story God has given us.  It has it's challenges and I feel maxed out on some days, but I am overwhelmed with God's kindness.  I still don't know what the outcome will be here, but I am thankful for the privilege of being a part of L's story, and her mom and dad's.  

We will keep doing our part and trust God with the rest.

So for now, just enjoy these toothless grins with us.

2 months old at the St. Louis Project.  

2 1/2 months old

4 1/2 months old....I'm BOOtiful.

The Non-Profile Pictures

For your entertainment, and because I know these will only get funnier as time goes on, I wanted to share some of the precious pictures that came from our short photo shoot with my sister last weekend.  Photographers who work with toddlers and children deserve every penny they get paid.  I'm so sorry Bri and Jennifer.  I know we still owe you for what we've put you through.  I will sell an organ one of these days and make it right.  Parents who survive photo shoots with their toddlers and children without injury to themselves or their children deserve a vacation.  This is yet to happen as well.  Instead, I settle for the joy of it "being over" and the hopes of just one (Dear God, PLEASE just one) good picture to help me forget the torture we just endured.

Kids, no matter how young, just know when it's coming.  They have a special radar that detects when there is about to be expectations placed on them to smile and look cute for a camera.  They can smell it a mile away.  When you pull out the nice clothes that coordinate with what everyone else is wearing, they wonder.  When I put on something nicer than yoga pants they really start to think something is up.   When I curl my hair, the flashing red lights and alarms sound in their heads.  Panic and rebellion begins.

This is how it goes for us.

Them: These shoes are too big...  I don't like this shirt...  the tag is itchy...  I don't want to do my hair like that!

Me:  I don't care.  You can wear them for the picture...  I don't care.  You can wear it for the picture...  I don't care.  Wait.  It doesn't even have a tag... (ugly voice) I DON'T CARE.  HOLD YOUR HEAD STILL OR THIS IS GOING TO TAKE EVEN LONGER.

I'm sweating at this point.  Perfect.  That looks great in pictures.

We pile in the van and head out to the country to take pictures in front of an old cabin that belongs to my brother in-law's family.  We pick up Micah, who stayed with my sister the night before, and I can tell that he tried to pull an all-nighter with his cousin.  His eyes look tired and his face does not communicate cooperation.  I sweetly tell him that he better smile for these pictures or he is never spending the night with his cousin again.  I'm so sorry for my poor parenting skills.  I know that was an empty threat but I was pretty sure that all our time and energy was about to be ruined by a 6 year old boy who watched Power Rangers into the wee hours of the night.  I was desperate for leverage and I had no bribe to offer.  Give me grace.

We head over to the cabin.  The kids are immediately grossed out by the cow patties that we have to dodge as this is also in the middle of one their pastures.  I also apologize to my hometown for the fact that I have failed to pass on the roots of my heritage.  My kids are not comfortable with farm animals and country living.  It's like visiting the zoo to them.  I have city kids.  I admit it.  By this point, the baby is hungry and there is a zero percent chance that we are going to get a smile out of her.  Our best hope is for her to look at the camera and not cry for at least the next five minutes.  My other hope all morning has been for her to not have a blow out and/or spit up all over her outfit and mine.  These are both regular occurrences.  She ended up looking at the ground in all but two or three shots.  I also had drool on my arm which you could see in the pictures.  Given the circumstances we still call that a major success.

The rest of the photo shoot threatened disaster.  It was mostly fake smiling, awkward posing, fighting about someone touching them, the inability to all look at the camera at the same time, and me being sweaty and irritated.  Who would know by looking at these gems though...

Here is a more accurate portrayal of how this went down...

Ella with her tougne out.

L yawning and Ella picking her nose.

L looking at the ground while Micah puts his hands in the air.  Why?

Well, we know where they get it at least. ;)

The next one was the winner of the day.  I held it together while all the antics were going on until Micah started messing with my hair.  GAME OVER.  I look demon possessed.

And we couldn't call it a day without sweet sibling pictures.  Just Precious.  Notice the subtle way Micah is messing with/pulling Avery's hair (which he adamantly denied...the camera doesn't lie son.)

 So much fun.  My next post will be about how much I love and adore them, I promise.  Family pictures don't bring out the best in them OR me obviously.  We're all a mixed bag.  Hope you got a chuckle.  I did. :)