Precious Moments

In early June my sister Meg, my niece Jordan and my Mom came to stay with us. I had been so looking forward to this visit and it did NOT disappoint. It was so great to get to know my little niece a bit. She is super smart, absolutely adorable with a million expressions and a little reserved but silly when you finally win her approval. The boys fell in love with Jo Jo and were constantly kissing and hugging her. She wasn't so excited about them invading her personal space but by the end of the week she was moving in for kisses rather than pulling back. Yared and Nati don't care if you have a personal space issue. All they care about is expressing their love.

It was also great to see Meg again. In some ways we are still adjusting to being moms AND sisters. I mean we both became moms in the same year. She was 42 and I was 37, no spring chickens. We had had years of sister time - just the two of us. Time to shop, get pedicures, read books, enjoy a glass of wine, and listen to music. All the sudden we are in the world of kids and see each other across a room strewn with toys as our kids make outrageous amounts of noise and no conversation is ever finished. We did manage to grab a few sister moments but this is a season for us that we have to be Moms first. Our brother and older sister both have four kids. I chuckled to myself a few times during the visit that they would have liked to have seen the two aunts, now moms struggling with diapers, sleep issues, snack attacks and grumpy toddlers. Things we watched them juggle for years. But before we know it, Meg and I will be wondering where time went and how our sweet toddlers became teenagers. While I do miss my sister time, it is so fun to walk this parenthood journey together.

Finally, Mom!! I LOVE my Mom so much. She is just so one-in-a-million. She got off the plane here in Norfolk at midnight and right away I could see she wasn't herself. She had a tooth infection that led to either too many or the wrong combo of antibiotics and her whole upper torso was swollen itchy and red in a reaction. She was also very tired and mellow. Anyone who has ever met her will know those words do not describe her. She is a bundle of energy that runs circles around people 20 years younger than herself. But after a few days off the meds and time to relax by the beach she was back to full energy and looking so much more rested. It was nice to send her home looking like herself.

It was such a great time and made me miss my family so much. But I feel blessed to have so much family to miss. Thanks Meg and Mom for a WONDERFUL time.

We went to the beach nearly every day they were here. Notice Yared going in for a kiss for Jo Jo.

Mom on day one looking tired and uncomfortable.




We met the sweetest adopted siblings at the beach and had a fun afternoon playing with them.



I loved taking pictures of her sunglasses as you could see so much in the reflection.


Mom on about day 6 looking much more like her usual heathy self. Seriously who looks this good at 73!! She is amazing.


Part of their visit was spent in NC at our good friend Ann's beach house. Here we are playing hide-n-seek. She is helping the boys count and NOT peek:).

Fighting Age

When I was 21 I had a vision of what I would look like old. I mean that literally. My beautiful Norwegian friend and I thought it would be funny to hang upside down from our bunk beds and get a picture of our crazy hair (hers is just like mine only white blonde, after all she is Norwegian.). But when we got the picture developed.. yes it was that long ago and digital was still a dream.. I wasn't looking at the hair. I saw my Grandmother's eyes looking out of my 21 year old face. We had hung upside down long enough that all the blood had situated in our heads. Combine the blood with the effects of gravity on my still young skin and my eyes were almost closed they were so puffy. I was totally freaked out and had to look in the mirror to reassure myself this was not how I actually looked. But now as I leave 30 behind and head towards 40, at what seems an ever accelerating approach, I now see those same puffy, Grandma eyes looking back at me in the morning or out a picture. It isn't every morning or in every picture but it is beginning to sink in that I will no longer have big blue eyes but blue eyes shrouded by wrinkles, puffs and bags. I have taken this getting old business OK up until now. I was OK with the wrinkles as I laugh so much most of them are laugh lines. I was OK with the gray hair, it was an excuse to use new colors. I was OK with the creaky bones as I was still able to get out and run. But I am not OK with the puffy eyes. It looks the worst in pictures where I am laughing hard, which again happens often.

This month my sister, Meg, and Mom came to visit for 10 days. It was a GREAT trip and I will write about that next post. Meg complained about the same thing with her eyes as we noticed we were both facing the Grandma eye situation. We started joking around with posing for pictures with our eyes wide open to make the puffs disappear. On our drive home from NC, all three kids fell asleep and Meg and I were laughing in great whispering guffaws as we tried to learn how to smile with eyes open. We even got Mom and Ben in on the action. It was one of my best memories of my sister's visit as all the sudden we weren't two tired but happy moms in our late 30's early 40's but we were young kids again laughing about nothing and entertaining ourselves on a road trip. It also makes seeing my Grandma eyes as something funny rather than the tragedy I was making it. I have no idea if you will find this funny but I know Meg will, so these pictures are for you Meg.

Our first solution was to wear sunglasses.... it worked but you can't do that all the time.




So we came up with raising our eyebrows super high and smiling as big as we could. It worked but we look a bit manic.



We then had Mom try it. She is always a good sport.

Ben was driving, but we told him to try it too. His response was so him, "For what purpose?" I said, "For fun." Since he is always up for that he quickly took his eyes from the road so I could capture this blurry shot.

Fabulous Father

We had a great Father's Day here in our house and it started me thinking what a great Dad Ben is. One of the wackiest things with adoption is all the work you do to PROVE that you are worthy of being parents. We had to gets friends and family to recommend us, we had to get doctors to say we were healthy, we had to get the Police to check our backgrounds, we had to have a social worker evaluate us, we had to write essays on why we wanted kids, we had to take classes on adoption, we had to read books, we had to watch videos and finally we were rewarded with the two most wonderful boys. But as I go through my daily life I see so many people who did NONE of this and have kids. I am not saying they are not great parents, some are and some aren't, but I am saying they weren't stamped with approval like we are:). I am saying that we REALLY had to prove that we were worthy and you know what? Ben is more than worthy. He is amazing with the boys. I knew he would be a great Dad but I didn't know he would be THIS great. He has literally blown me away with how patient, fun, loving, helpful, silly, thoughtful, kind and just plain crazy he is with the boys. I was organizing videos this weekend and saw this one. This is so Ben, willing to let them play with his hat collecting, willing to pretend to be in a parade, laughing and joking the whole time. And the boys... well their giggles say it all.. They LOVE Daddy. Sorry it is sideways, I just don't have the time to fix it right this second.

Mohawk Dreams

Yared has been asking for a mohawk for about six months now. We have no idea where he picked this up but he was pretty insistent about it. We promised him that in the summer we would make his dream come true. We started growing his hair out a few months a go. While it only lasted three days but he was thrilled.
Sitting in the chair getting ready for the big moment

Dad gets to work

Seeing himself in a little handheld mirror... does that face say happy or what?


Of course whatever Yared does, Nati does... so we here we have mini Mr. T


Their little Cousin Jo Jo was visiting so we didn't want her to feel left out. Here is a before of the three amigos.

And after

Run Moira Run

(Lesson learned.. bring sunglasses. Necessary and you look way cool.)

Last year after we finally brought the boys home, I decide to tackle those 10-15 pounds that had been sitting on me for 5 years. A month of seriously horrible food and hard work and I had achieved my goal. It felt so good to be back to college weight and comfortable in my own skin, but I still wasn't in great shape. Then this spring Ben and I both decided we were ready to add workouts back into our parenting schedule. Somehow exercise had fallen out of our lives. Ben just got up at 5 a.m. and started running. Not me, I needed some motivation. I joined a Zumba class and LOVED it. But I also needed something I could do from home so I took up running when he got home. Even in this I needed motivation so I signed up for a 5K. I thought the pressure of having to run in front of others would get me out that door and running and it worked. I know myself too well. On May 31 I ran the Yorktown Freedom Run. Ben and the boys came along to cheer me on. I mentioned it to our friends Seba and Nadew and they decided to join me in running the race. Seba told me she wasn't very good at running but she ended up beating me:). Nadew on the other hand said he wasn't there to run fast but to encourage me and spent the whole race running beside me chatting, cheering and giving me running tips. It was the perfect first race.

Nati freaked out when the blew the starting horn so this is Ben trying to capture the beginning of my race and control two boys:)






I love this shot with the 10MPH sign.

Afterwards, I raced my boys. I had to laugh as I know they will kick my butt at running in probably three years.


At the end of the race I thought to myself, "I will never do that again." However, as the days have gone by and I have reflected on the race,I think I will run more races. First, I met some super duper healthy people out there of all ages and I would like to be a semi super duper healthy person as I get older:). I lack the perseverance to be completely super duper healthy. There was one lady who was 46 and I swear she looked 30. She was so fit. She ran the race in 22 minutes and said she only started running when she was 38. Well that is my age so she gave me hope to get faster. Second, my sister came to visit and we went for a run together. We have done this in the past and it is always me just trying to keep up. This time it was actually enjoyable and I was able to talk and run at the same time. Finally, knowing I have a race coming up will keep me getting out that front door and running. I can so often find an excuse to sit around and do nothing, but having to get in shape for a race is like having a final at the end of a class.

The Tale of Two Strawberry Pickings

Last year in June when life was still new, crazy and yes a little stressful in a wonderful-become-a-family-overnight way, some friends asked me to go strawberry picking. In my new mom imagination this seemed so perfect. I envisionsed two sweet boys skipping down strawberry lined rows and smiling with juice running down their faces. This is NOT what happened. First, I woke up at the crack of dawn which I still wasn't used to. After our morning routine of Elmo(who drives me bonkers) and breakfast - where I spent time trying to find something Yared would like, we got in the car and started the 45 minute drive. After 5 minutes the car started making some horrible noises. It hit me that the day before I had put some cheap gas in the car as I was running on empty and kids were crying and I just needed to GET GAS no matter where. The sounds continued to rattle and shake the car so I called Ben. He told me to go home and get the van. I can't remember why I didn't use the van to begin with. Oh YEAH, the car seats weren't in the van yet. I drove home hauled the car seats out of the clanking car and spent 20 minutes trying to figure out how Ben got them set up. I finally managed to push, prod, and shove them into place. I reloaded the boys into the van and set off for the 45 minute journey to my fairy tale dream of strawberry picking. I entered the address in the GPS of the Van. Side note here. I love my van but the GPS came with it and seems to be programmed for Pennsylvania where it was originally from. You can put in a store like Trader Joes and it will come up with them a 1000 miles away but not the one that is 15 miles away.

I programmed in the address for the strawberry patch and started on our way. The whole time I am trying to explain all this to Yared who was doing great with English but wasn't fluent so I am getting a million "whys" thrown at me. The day has turned out to be warm and sticky so my hair is matted to my head from switching car seats but hey we are on our way. We get to the strawberry patch just as a field trip of Kindergartners lands there. I try to see through the crowds to find my friends but they are not there. I am now an hour late anyway, so I figure they might be gone. I call them and find they are at a different place as the GPS led me astray for the first of many times. I decide to stay where I am and MAKE this happen so I get the boys out and cough up money for one bucket which is cheaper than two smaller baskets. Then sweet Yared who NEVER has accidents tells me he has to go pee. The porta-potty is at the other end of the field so I pick up Nati and start hauling Yared through the wet stinky strawberry patch. He is yelling "pee pee" the whole way. We get to the port-a-potty. They are not my favorite place to begin with but in humidity they are awful. I get Yared in there and find that he has been yelling pee pee for a reason, it is all over him. He is totally humiliated so I am trying to make it no big deal. Then I decide we better fill this blasted bucket and go. We start picking strawberries only to find that there are horrible flies in this field that bite and not that many strawberries as the Kindergarten class is moving like a swarm of locusts in front of us. Being a new mom I didn't realize that sharing the bucket was going to be an issue so the boys fight over who carries the bucket while I shove strawberries in as fast as I can. Then I grab the camera to capture the happy occasion:). Finally I call my friends to tell them I am going home. They convince me to come join them at their house for sprinkler time. We do and the day ends very well with two happy boys jumping in water and one mom resting in the shade being encouraged by her friends that we all have days like this.

This year my friend asked me to go strawberry picking again. I did with a mixture of fear and laughter. We hit major traffic on our way there so I was a bit worried I lived under a strawberry curse but we arrived at the right place, on time, and all smiling. I coughed up more money for two small baskets and avoided the larger cheaper bucket. The day turned out to be a lot like what my imagination had conjured up last year, there were two sweet little boys running down strawberry lines rows with straw berry juice everywhere having a great time with friends. It was perfect. Just in case you think I make this stuff up here are the pictures to prove it:).

I do believe Yared's face expresses how all of us felt last year.

Me attempting to capture a moment of goodness in the midst of frustration.


What a difference a year makes... if this was a movie happy music would be in crescendo at this moment:)