The Boy Who Does Not Like To Waste Tape

Roman is very seriously considering a career as a children's author after retirement.

He hates writing and typing and not a huge fan of reading, so it's an interesting choice.

However, I had him storyboard and write a short story for school to practice.

So, lucky readers... get it now before he's famous!

** At this time, I shall work unpaid as his spelling/grammar editor so that the brilliance of the content remains.

** Also note: I was in a hurry and I'm not a great editor.

The Boy Who Does Not Like To Waste Tape

By Roman West

The boy was helping his dad on his car. They got a roll of tape from the store.

They went home and his father said, “Pull out one foot of tape.” 

The boy was anxious because his dad just got that tape!

His dad said, “What’s wrong?” 

“I do not like it when you use the tape because you just got it.” he said. 

His father said, “I know, Buddy. I’m sorry. This is just what works to fix the car.”

The boy was just a kid who was eight years old, so his wise dad, named Tomson,

explained it so he could understand. 

The boy’s name is Harry Nicole Hodgepodge. His mom is Mary Jackson Hakuna Matata,

and his big sister is named Michael Buffalo but she lives in The United Kingdom. 

“Hey, it’s okay!” said Dad “We have enough money to buy more tape if we need it.”

Harry said, “Oh okay! Thank you!” 

Harry felt better. He loved his father no matter what. He knew he should not be anxious

about anything but instead pray about everything. 

Harry said, “Mom, thank you for dinner. I love you with all my heart.”

After dinner, when Harry and his mom were at the store, he reminded his mom that they

needed two more tapes. His mom said, “Oh, that’s right.” and they got new tape.

He was happy. 

They went home to work on the car with his dad. They fixed the car.

This ends with a happily ever after.

somewhere there's a bag missing a cat...

WE NOW HAVE A HOME IN HAITI!

For those that don’t know, our family began our progressive move to Haiti this week with our ministry, Nations Voice (!!)

We are so grateful to be connected with City of Faith Church International and the Collier family, plus those who have come alongside us in all sorts of ways. There are so many good/God stories in this already, we could flood your ears and we’re just getting started. We have a long way to go in what is becoming a short amount of time. Our family will update at Going Wests: Growing Wests throughout the process and as we get established in our new home.

NV will essentially mirror what God is doing in our home community of Springfield- creating access and opportunity inclusive to all, regardless of income/geography/ability etc.

🎶 Everyone deserves a chance fly! 🎶
#Community #FamilyPreservation #EmpowerParents #BreakTheCycle#InclusionMatters #FromTheCityToTheNations

It’s been quite a ride already and not without it’s bumps. No part of us thinks this will be a fairytale that comes without difficulties. We do have some immediate needs and some longer term needs specific to our family. If you are interested in learning more about those and being a part of the village- either for us or Nations Voice, please reach out! There are so many ways to love your neighbor!

We thank you in advance for covering us in prayer as God continues to order these steps.

Reminder: What looks like crazy on an ordinary day looks a lot like love if you catch it in the moonlight. - Pearl Cleage

#GrowingWests #GoingWests #NationsVoice #NV #six #connected #nations#LosingMyReligion #SimpleObedience #2020vision

P.S. If you/your church/your small group/your book club/WHOEVER wants to hear more about the vision and how to be a part of it- let us know! We’ll come to you!

Kyle.

I’ve written on my blog about our house. It has the most amazing stories to tell. The house was once anointed and blessed as the “Isaiah 58” house by our now church home- that’s a good story, too.  It was used as a transitional house for the local homeless, long before we were part of its history.

Side note: Our home is nearly 100 years old. I often wonder how many families/individuals are a part of this house, in transition or not. Also, how many families did this house survive before the Wests arrived? I surely hope it survives us…

But I digress….

We realized quickly that it would become totally normal for people to stop on our doorstep asking for a place to stay, believing that it is still the Isaiah house (which it totally is, just in a spiritual way and not a literal way. Well, kind of a literal way, but that’s for later. Okay, back to the story…)

Anyway- there are potential “guests” regularly, any time of day or night. Most folks just knock politely and thank us when they realize their mistake. Occasionally someone argues. Or pleads. Because we are members of the church, we can connect them with the ministers in charge of housing and try to help.

The first time “Kyle” made his way to our yard was mid-afternoon. Nathan was actually outside mid-conversation with a plumbing company that was helping us out. Kyle was rather… aggressive. Verbally antagonizing Nathan (in front of our sons. And our plumbers.) trying to start a fight with no rhyme or reason. He was… not in his right mind, as they say. 

The second time, he had just come from the dumpster behind the grocery store, with arms full of stale bread, when I suppose he recognized Nathan, and decided to follow him all the way back to our house. (Nathan had walked). He wasn’t particularly friendly this time either and my husband was a little more stern about the inappropriateness of his behavior.  I guess Kyle agreed and maybe felt guilty, because he returned later that night with some of the thrown out Dunkin Donuts (also walking distance) and insisted we give them to the kids with his apologies. It was 10:00PM and our children were asleep, but he begged and begged for us to take the donuts. We did, told him we wished him well, and gave him a paper plate of leftovers from our dinner. He cried on our porch for several minutes before shuffling off and turning the corner.

Once of the scariest moments of my life happened a couple days later. 

Our dog, Walker, was on high alert in the boys’ room, staring out the window before beginning a low growl.   A second later, I thought I heard someone trying to open our back door, jiggling the door knob a little.  I was home alone with Anna Gray and Walker went nuts.  I tried to discreetly look out our bathroom window but didn’t see anything.  Then someone in a friggin’ clown costume came running up the porch and started banging on the front door! 

Through the front window, I saw him take off his mask, revealing himself as one of the garage guys across the street. They had helped us several times when Walker got out and I told them later that the absolute most terrifying part of this whole experience was a creepy clown banging on my door!! Scared the 80s baby right out of me!

When I opened the door, he asked me if I realized that a man was in our basement. Um…. Noooo?

He then asked if I wanted help getting him out. Um…. Yesssss?

Walker was still growling out the window- over the basement door- so I ran over to watch. I could hear through the glass. The two guys from across the street asked the man to come out. Then again. Then they told him to come out.  

He finally did and I stared at the back of his head while they told him to open his coat and drop everything he had taken. We don’t keep much down there, its storage really. Holiday décor, our bikes, bins full of whoknowswhat. He argued for a minute, but they pointed up to the window and let him know that I was watching and ready to call the police. He turned. Kyle. He faced them again and shook his coat open and the smallest things fell out.  He had found the bin full of Christmas gifts, unwrapped but still in their packages (we put them away to bring out a little at a time since the kids had plenty). Some unopened DVDs fell to the ground, Nintendo DS games… things he could sell, I’m guessing. Then some hats, several pair of gloves, and scarves. Sigh. Broke my heart. Of all the things he could steal from my house, he chose hats, gloves, and scarves.

He eventually walked away and the garage guys brought me everything that came out of his coat and strongly suggested I call the police.   After talking to Nathan – and tidying my house (My word, I couldn’t be interviewed by police in a messy house!), I called. I told them I didn’t want to press charges, just make a report to have on record.

While waiting for the officers to arrive (but after cleaning up), I watched to see where he went. 

Which is when I realized he was peeing on our fence.

Which is when he realized that I realized he was peeing on our fence and gave me an, ahem, extra special wave ‘hello from below’.

I was feeling a little less guilty about calling the cops at this point.

The officers that came out knew who I was talking about right away, but wouldn’t say until I picked him out of a line up- which I did.  The officer said if it had been “Big T” or “Slim”, it wouldn’t have been a big deal, but my children would be a lot safer if Kyle was off the streets. I believed him, considering we had witnessed his instability, and I agreed to testify in court (which I haven’t actually had to do yet). During our conversation, Kyle yelled a few obscenities at us from a street over and they were able to pick him up. I still felt bad.  He would have to stay in jail until our court date, but at least I knew he had a bed to sleep in and food to eat.

After the officers left, I went to put the stuff up that he had tried to take and saw the paper plate that we had given him our leftovers on a few nights before. Lots of conflicting thoughts considering that

1) A person… Kyle… had spent probably more than one night in our basement cold and hungry; and

2) A person… Kyle… had slept right underneath our children- after cursing them in our front yard- without us knowing it.

Praying for Kyle.

*All names changed to protect identities.

**Garage Guy was wearing a clown costume to drum up business. I don’t get it. It’s terrifying. Nice guy though.

*** I followed his case closely, advocated for rehabilitative support for him when I could, and he since been released. He thanked me (?) recently by showing up and dumping popcorn all over our front porch WHILE OUR SOCIAL WORKER WAS HERE.

**** I freaking love my life.

This was the best day I ever spent in a mental hospital.

{ARCHIVES: Originally written Feb 2018, originally shared Feb 2019} 

I wrote this one year ago today. It wasn't published anywhere (May go in the book later, not sure.) but I feel like I should share it now for some reason. It is VERY raw- emotions mixed together sloppily, thoughts clear as mud, and the grammar atrocious (kind of my signature at this point...). But that is EXACTLY where I was when I wrote it.

A year later-- Another "I love you SO much" and another happy birthday. I'm very clearly grateful.

Here we are again. Third time’s the charm? We hope. 

We have no expectations. 

Nothing is going to change dramatically in the next 7-10 days. We know now. 

We also know we need a plan and we can’t make a plan if we can’t turn our backs or look away. 

So he’s safe and we’re safe and we’re here again.

Trying things differently this time though. 

Our hearts hurt, but exhausting our bodies and draining our bank account won’t help. We know now.

So we go when we can. Some days are good. Like, really good. Different good? A genuine hug, an honest feeling, and an unprompted “I love you …so much.” My first! Ohhh, it was good. 

And some days are… just hard. On him, on us. Ugly words and pushed away and… same ole’, same ole’. But that’s okay. These days are reminders that 1) We are seeing progress on those good days; and 2) we should not just scoop him up and bring him home on those good days… because nothing is going to change dramatically in the next 7-10 days.

It’s a Monday and three of the children have appointments at Vanderbilt. The others were out of school and it’s my birthday. Nathan feels bad that my birthday will be spent with all of us at doctor appointments, but that’s grown up birthdays and I’m fine. Actually, we can drive together and he’ll take some kids and I’ll take some kids so it’s fine.

I’m fine. 

I’m fine. 

I’M FINE.

We realize that the first round of appointments finish around the same time and we’re able to all go eat lunch together. I feel terribly guilty that we just spent $50 on fancy grilled cheeses, but Nathan says it’s fine because it’s my birthday. After that, it’s visitation time and we are all at Vandy and can go together. 

This is a huge, albeit risky, bonus. We don’t know what kind of day it will be on his end, but we give it a whirl...

This is the first time we have all been together in weeks, after only a couple of weeks of all being together. 

They put us in a visiting room with nothing but six chairs and our deep breathing. We tip-toe for a few minutes, feeling out the mood. He seems fine. He doesn’t like questions and conversation is slow because it’s hard to catch up without questions. We’re caught up quickly and clumsily and someone starts singing softly, when Cale “steals” the song. In an instant, we have a riff-off. Riff-offs are kind of our thing (except no one gets “out”… Oh, God- can you imagine??) UNFAIR. And anyway, why would less singing be better? It wouldn’t. Everyone stays in. Our awkward beginning is suddenly and very unexpectedly interrupted by Cale jumping out of his chair and adding dance moves to his vocals, which are instantly stolen by his twin.  Now it’s game on.

Within twenty minutes, there are eight Wests in six chairs replacing deep breaths with Bohemian Rhapsody. We are not even stealing anymore, we are all in for every song. Every one knows every word- little high, little low- AS LOUD AS WE CAN. There are eight people screaming Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of our lungs in a mental hospital.

Two hours go by singingly smooth.  Waves of voices and laughter, boogies you’ve never seen. Dolly, Queen, Elvis, Bruno, Marky Mark all in attendance. It was loud, authentic, and us.

I was sure they’d either kick us out or invite us to stay forever, but I did not care one bit.

We were together and we were happy.

We aren’t like other families sometimes, in lots of ways. Living this life has given us one hella dose of perspective.  Medical needs, broken hearts, constant school meetings and appointments, a mental health battle that’s forced us to live apart for 8 ½ of the last nine months. THIS is what matters- being together. Laughing. Singing/screaming. Dancing. Together. We know now.  

Also, you can spend a grown up birthday in a mental hospital visiting your son with your family, and it’s not just fine. It’s the best day in a very long time. 

Child of Mine.

Roman has had a series of problems in his left ear as long as we’ve known him. Last year, he had a corrective surgery and a few weeks ago went for a follow up. In addition to damage and scar tissue, the chelation therapy required for his thalassemia can cause hearing loss so it’s important to stay on top of it. At this appointment, we needed to confirm total post-op healing and, hopefully, finally pass a hearing test. Unfortunately, during the exam it was quickly discovered that he had developed multiple polyps inside his ear, some ruptured, and he had a massive infection.

“Roman! Did you know?? Were you hurting??”

“Well, I knew it was some kind of problem but I didn’t know what. Sometimes I cry in my bed or there’s blood on my pillow.”

I was stunned… kinda frustrated… and sad. How is it that he still doesn’t tell us when something is wrong? That he still isn’t trusting us completely? He still thinks he should tough it out alone.

In China, Roman was not allowed to get out of bed. Before his adoption, he was told not to bother us- especially at night - that we would be angry and he would be punished. He’s been our child for 4 ½ years and we are still trying to convince him that it’s okay to tell us something is wrong. It breaks my heart how many nights he has spent alone in his bed hurting or afraid and told us about it later. I have been constantly trying to remind him that if he tells us what the problem is, we may be able to help.

Recently, he came in the middle of the night(!) He gently tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, “Mama… it’s not a stranger…. It’s your son…. Roman.” I was SO glad he came to me and trusted that I could fix the problem.

I was in my prayer closet over a situation in my life today and had a revelation.

God is stunned… kinda frustrated… and sad. Because I've been His child for 37 years and He's still trying to convince me that it’s okay to tell Him something is wrong. I’ve been lying in bed with a problem, trying to tough it out alone. I didn’t want to bother Him. How is it that I’m still not trusting Him completely? It breaks His heart how many nights I've spent hurting or afraid. He's been constantly trying to remind me that if I tell Him about the problem, He may be able to help.

So today, I’m whispering…

“Father… it’s not a stranger… it’s your daughter… Amma. Something is wrong and I don’t even know what. I need you and trust you to fix the problem.”

A VERY MERRY UN-CHRISTMAS!

🎄🎄🎄

The change in routine, the expectations, & the unpredictability of Christmas chaos give Cale SO much anxiety. We prep, we plan, we structure, we provide alternatives ... he just can’t do it.

When you’re stressy and agressy then Christmas gets kinda messy.

Things were different this year though.

We weren’t together. And though he did panic with anticipation in the days leading up to it, he called Christmas morning and couldn’t have been sweeter.

He communicated that not knowing what he was getting was creating stress and he needed us to tell him. So we did. We told him his gifts over the phone.

No magic.
No surprises.
No hustle and bustle.

And we were met with “Thank you, Mom and Dad. I feel better. I love you so much. Merry Christmas and goodbye.”

Tonight we are together, just the four of us, opening a few small things alone in a dark, quiet hotel room. He couldn’t be happier.

It might not look like everyone else’s Christmas. It might not look like what *we* ever imagined even. I wont pretend we haven’t grieved that. But with no magic ... and no chaos... our son found joy and peace in Christmas, and isn’t that the point anyway?

All is calm, all is bright. Beautiful boy. 

#NoMatterWhat

I can't do this but I'm doing it anyway.

I guess this is my 2018 post for #AdoptionAwarenessMonth 🤷🏻‍♀️

Social media, you are one double headed beast. God bless my passive-aggressive bones and forgive me for vague-booking, but we can’t keep it all to ourselves and expect grace at the same time.

We are struggling, friends. Trenches? No.
We’ve been in the trenches. We are the wounded left behind in the war zone clinging for dear life. And we are fiesty little warriors.

I’m painfully aware that you can see it all over our faces. We are dropping the ball in pretty much all areas of life right now. Honestly, the balls have scattered and are bouncing away aimlessly.

There’s “regular” stress like broken dishwashers and washing machines, broken down cars and flat tires, sick kiddos who can’t tell you what’s wrong, unpaid travel fees, little boys in desperate need of a blood transfusion, unsettled IEPs, etc etc etc and I WISH those were the hard parts of life right now.

But on top of that, we are kind of literally fighting for our child’s LIFE. It’s taking 100% of our time and energy and we are hanging by a thread.

We are desperate- but praising. Empty- but fasting. It feels Ike every hour we alternate between determination and falling apart. Thankfully, we have people around to stitch us back together and tell us to keep going. Most of them walking right alongside us in any way they can ❤️

Our kids are SO easy to love, but paving a way for them in this messy world is HARD.
Hard hard hard.

Occasionally, over the years, we’ve been met with “You asked for this.”

Yeah, we did.

We could, in theory, be a family of three. I could be working full-time so it wouldn’t be so easy to attack our finances. Our house could be quieter, our days could be less hectic, we could have hobbies in our spare time... we could have spare time!

But we asked for THIS.

We knew it came with challenges: advocacy, exhaustion, grit, guilt, shame, loss, grief. But I’m really not sure we could have ever prepared for these heartbreaks. (Theirs/ours.)

It also comes with wisdom, strength, faith, perseverance, perspective, acceptance, trust. And I’m really not sure we could have ever prepared for these miracles. (Theirs/ours.)

We asked for this. For them.
And I’d do it a million times over.

I don’t know what tomorrow holds. LITERALLY NO IDEA WHAT WILL HAPPEN TOMORROW. I don’t know how or why or when. But God. I’m grateful I don't have to.

* I do know I was not given a spirit of fear, but of LOVE, POWER, & A SOUND MIND.
* I do know it’s working for our good. Even if it looks different, even if it takes longer, even if it hurts.
* I do know He will provide- a safe place to land, funds for His call, a hope for the future.

I. CAN’T. DO. THIS.
He can.

#Hallelujah.

Paging Dr. Gray...

For the first year she was home, Anna Gray watched Signing Time and only Signing Time. Nothing else held her attention or interest. Then it was two years of Sesame Street. At age four, she made a hardcore switch to Doc McStuffins.

She’s sprinkled in a variety of options here and there lately but Doc is still her #1 gal. We’ve seen so.much.Doc. So many McStuffins. For a while, Anna Gray wore her stethoscope everywhere she went. Grocery, church, bath time, bedtime...

Recently, we were at an appointment for a sibling and AG tagged along. She brought her med bag and gave the endocrinologist a full check up- named every tool & used them correctly. She instructed the doctor to “take deep breaths” as she listened with her stethoscope. She promised “no hurts” from the otoscope, and pronounced her patient all better.

The specialist asked AG (she didn’t ask me... she spoke directly to the, albeit small, fully functioning human beside me) and asked if she wanted to be a doctor someday. After a “yes ma’am”, she looked at Anna Gray and said, “YOU CAN.”

It was so strikingly different from another experience we had. During an IEP meeting for her, a person (who, please note, does *not* work at her school) dismissed all of her reported strengths and said, “Well, she has Down syndrome so obviously she’ll just be in (CDC/Special Ed) all day.” When I argued that it wasn’t Anna Gray’s LRE (least restrictive environment- which she is legally entitled to) and explained the benefits of peer models and inclusive classrooms being best for ALL students, she remarked that AG “can’t even carry her own lunch tray”. She had never even met Anna Gray. Ever.

Despite the fact that there were a slew of Anna Gray experts in the room speaking to her ABILITIES, this person made big giant assumptions based on NOTHING but her diagnosis.

Can you imagine the way each of those experiences felt? Whether you happen to have an extra chromosome or not, can you imagine being told you CAN’T by a person who doesn’t know you? What that would do to a child, to a brain, to a heart?

Now imagine being told you CAN.
What that would do to a child, a brain, a heart!

****Hot tip: ASSUME COMPETENCE.

Whether a person has Down syndrome, is on the autism spectrum, or is typically developing... assume they CAN. Then, if they need support/extra time/whatever to do it, help them get there.

AND WHILE WE’RE HERE (bc who knows if I’ll manage to get another post out this month 😬😬), let’s re-visit the “R” Word...

Twenty something years ago, it was unfortunately common slang. Not anymore. At this point, “retard” is lazy & HURTFUL. Scientifically, our girls are considered mentally retarded. Did you mean stupid when you said it? Because this kid speaks parts of four languages. Did you mean ugly when you made that face and called it ‘retarded’? Because she also has a modeling contract 🤔 And you better bet she can carry that dang lunch tray.
Honestly, I’m done being nice about that.
Get yourself a thesaurus and break the habit- you CAN! 😉
— When you know better, do better. —

Thank you & be kind is all.
And listen ... if you don’t know our Annie Sunshine, the only assumption you should make is that YOU ARE MISSING OUT.

“Anna Gray, you are incredible.”

Adoption- the 2017 version.

November is National Adoption Month.

I've tried to write this multiple times, but I've just been in a very weird mood for most of 2017- a mood strongly related to adoption- and I worry it's coming off dark and twisty. 

Shew.... feelings. Big ones. If you are going to read this, please hear it from a place of truth- our truth. I'm  (probably)(over)sharing because I think it's important.


People message me allll the time about their interest in adoption and I'll admit that for the last several months, I've been a little off-putting to some of them. I really don't mean to be rude, it just seems some people are looking for fairytales and I ain't got 'em.

Adoption is beautiful because choosing to love people no matter what is beautiful.
Adoption is also hard, messy, complex, and a bunch of other stuff- for all parties.

Most years I write about this and earnestly tell you that adoption is just not at the forefront of our life. "Adoptive family life"is just ... uh, life. Adoption doesn't define our days and we don't eat/sleep/breathe adoption. Usually.

Because this year is different. And right now, we kinda do.

This year, adoption meant four extra kids in our room. Mattresses have covered our floor for months and every night is a fruit-basket turnover, not knowing who will land where. Lots of kids sleep in their parents' room, but this isn't the same. This is deep, desperate fear to not be with us.

Cale leaving meant at any second any of us could be separated (in their minds) and therefore, they want to stay as close to us as possible. We are down to two now, with one clinging fiercely. That one will let me go... but sobs with relief when I return, as if they'd been believing the whole time that I might not.

I had been gone to the grocery for about 20 minutes. 

BUT.
Every time I come back, every time we share our bed or floor, every time we hold them and let them feel WHATEVER they are feeling, another connection is made and strengthened. I miss sleep and grown up shows and "mommy time" but this is a season and in this season I will wipe every tear and soak up every snuggle if it kills me.

You know that PopTart story I shared recently? It was meant to be funny, it was funny. Until you realize why they were losing it.  I was tired and I just didn't make breakfast that day. I did a totally "regular family" thing and gave them PopTarts for the first time instead. But ... for my kids from trauma, it spiraled into something way bigger.

Why didn't I care enough to make them breakfast? Do I still love them? I always say I'm not buying PopTarts, but then I did sooooo what else can change? Will I leave them? Will I feed them at the next meal? What if I don't? 

PopTart Panic. It's a real thing.
My mostly happy, precious children who seem so very regular, were sneaking/stealing/hoarding food again- to protect themselves. My child dug through the trash for food. In case I didn't make them any other meals either. Instantly, their brains told them to prepare for the worst.

Obviously, these are extreme examples. This is what trauma does to brains. And it doesn't really matter what that trauma is or if they remember it or not, their brains do. Some of our kids came home in infancy and struggle the most. They are easily triggered right now (because of the Cale situation) and that means they (including Cale... especially Cale) live in FIGHT, FLIGHT, OR FREEZE all.the.time. All the time. It's right under the surface. They don't go from 0 to 60 because they already live at 40. Something as small as a PopTart can be perceived as a threat and send them into a desperate need for "safety".

I debated (and debated) whether or not to share the images we have of our children's actual brains. While they are harddd for us to see, it is SUCH good visual for what trauma does to a person. I decided that their actual images were too personal for public viewing, but I will say this: they're extreme. The very obvious differences in their brains compared to that of a typical 10yo are heartbreaking.

{SAMPLES}
typical brain:
**not our images

trauma brain:
*not our images

However, if you are parenting a child from trauma, I do H I G H L Y recommend getting a QEEG.
It has helped us understand so much about what their brains can or can't do- as in, literally can't.

(FYI- Cale's *did* confirm autism. So after 10 year's of wishy-washy-wondering if his dx is correct, it could clearly be seen on his images. So that's that.)

Hard truth.
Our kids aren't "lucky" to have us regular, plain people as their parents. It wasn't God's plan. Babies are born literally attached to their mothers. That's the plan. We're the back up and we're okay with it. Our kids lost SO.MUCH. before we came together, some of them several times over, and that's not lucky. It sucks actually. I never want our kids to think or believe that we think that we "saved" them from the very life God intended.

We don't belong on a pedestal. Those who know me well know I'm likely to trip and fall right off anyway, spilling my coffee on the way down. I know our choices aren't typical, but we are. We are just regular, plain people who chose to grow our family.  Our kids happen have some atypical needs and then we parent them accordingly. You can do that to, if you want!

At the dinner table this week, the kids were talking about where their names came from, etc. I was telling them a story about a day in church over ten years ago, Mother's Day. Our twins had only been home about six weeks and I stood, for the first time, as their mother, overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions. I felt the weight of it all in that moment, I knew that this whole adoption thing would not be easy. I also knew, as we read Romans 8:28 that day, that it was confirmation: it would be worth it. I made a note in my Bible and dated it, this was for us! This will lead us to our "Roman" (who was then named after that verse much later if you didn't know). I only noticed this week after sharing it with them, that it was dated the day he was born.

We didn't know about him for another six and a half years.

We may be their back up plan, but they were never our's. We can see clearly where the seeds were planted such a long time ago for each one of them. Some tiny seeds and also some BIG FAT PAY ATTENTION seeds.

Is it a fairytale? Um. No. It's hard as hell. But it IS worth it. They are worth it.

Every year we buy a big, blank Christmas ornament to write the memories we are most thankful for that year. I cried when we sat down to do it this year. Such a hard year. But our kids? They were talking ninety miles a minute. The list of memories they were thankful for this year was LONGER than any other year prior. GOD BLESS THEM AND KEEP THEM AMEN.

Sometimes adoption, for our family, is crowded beds and broken hearts and brains that need to protect themselves. For most of 2017, it was. But greater things are coming. And I'm declaring that in 2018, "adoption", for our family, will be less funky moods and more dance parties, less bedtime tears and more peaceful dreams, less PopTart Panic and more breakfasts baked with love. We're taking our regular family life BACK.

**********************************

Adoption isn't for you? Okay, cool. There are a bajillion ways to step up for kids who need someone. Support birth families, they're Plan A (!!!!) Become a foster family or a Safe (temporary, emergency) family, Advocate, Mentor. Pray. Listen. Feed someone in the trenches.

Just love people, no matter what.  'Cause that's beautiful.

MORE ALIKE THAN DIFFERENT

October is Down Syndrome Awareness & Acceptance Month!

There are still SO many misconceptions about what DS is or isn't and education makes all the difference in the world.

I'd like to have my life together enough to post daily on social media, but facts are facts and I do not. shrug emoji. 

I figured a blog post would cover most of it in one fell swoop. 

I just want to point out a few things about DS that you may not know and share a bit about our girls. I have a feeling you will see that they have a LOT more in common with the kiddos in your life, than not.

(Most facts copied/pasted from National Down Syndrome Society. Too tired/lazy/busy to attempt to put them in my own words.)

• Down syndrome occurs when an individual has a full or partial extra copy of chromosome 21. This additional genetic material alters the course of development and causes the characteristics associated with Down syndrome.
• 
  

This is Lincoln's actual karotype... isn't it precious?! I cried the first time I saw it because it was so beautiful to me.

• Down syndrome occurs in people of all races and economic levels.

One of our dolls is Ukrainian, one is Chinese.
Both abandoned at birth because of their extra chromosome (that's only the beginning of the explanation fyi's).
Don't think for a second that this isn't also happening in the U.S.
It absolutely is. About 6,000 babies are born with DS each year in the U.S.but.... 67 percent of pregnancies with a prenatal DS diagnosis are terminated. Some countries it's nearly 100 percent.

Some common physical traits in DS include:

• Flattened facial profile and nose
• Small head, ears, and mouth
• Upward slanting eyes, often with a skin fold that comes out from the upper eyelid and covers the inner corner of the eye
• White spots on the colored part of the eye (called Brushfield spots)
• Wide, short hands with short fingers
• A single, deep, crease across the palm of the hand
• A deep groove between the first and second toes 

(My personal favorite being the "sandal gap" piggies.)

Some folks say you "can hardly tell she has 'Downs'!" or "She must not have it much.", especially toward Anna Gray. Guys.
1) These are offensive. More or less visible traits is not better or worse. She just looks how she looks (and most likely favors her birth parents more than another person with DS).
2) You can't have a "little bit" of Down syndrome. A person either has it or they don't.

In addition to facial features of DS, both our girls have long torsos and shorter legs, round bellies and no booty to hold up their pants. They have shorter fingers and sweet sweet feet- all common.

Anna Gray also has long golden hair, the brightest smile, sparkling blue eyes and she's strong as an ox. None of which are related to her having DS.

Lincoln has big brown eyes with the longest lashes, baby doll kissable lips, and the most precious hands I've ever seen.

Other characteristics associated with DS are even more of a spectrum; they can show up in all kinds of ways or not at all.

 Individuals with Down syndrome are just that- individuals. 

Every person has strengths and weaknesses, extra chromies or not!

• Decreased muscle tone and hyperflexibility

ANNA GRAY:

While it took her a little bit longer to start walking than a typical child, she quickly went from the penguin waddle to running... climbing... you name it. We spend a signifant amount of time chasing this child, ha. 

She particulary loves climbing kitchen cabinets. We put up a baby gate, but she went over it. And then under it. 

She's mastered stairs and pumping her legs in a swing (when she wants) and pedaling a bike/trike (when she wants) and perfect splits. Last week she did the seated zip line on her field trip, holding on herself without any kind of buckle or strap :)

LINCOLN: 

Lincoln will be four this month and still does not walk. Partly because of low musle tone and less practice time, only being home nine months so far. Partly because too many people want to carry her everywhere, ha. She crawls super duper fast, cruises furniture and she is verrryyyy close to taking steps. She's just enjoying this new family-lovin-on-ya business for now; also known as "spoiled rotten" and we know it. 

She has learned to climb out of her baby bed (she lands on Brynn's mattress and thinks it is hilarious). I am trying to convince her that if she's going to continue to climb out, she might as well stand up and march around ... soon :) 

• Poor fine motor skills

ANNA GRAY: 

This is an area AG still needs work in. Writing letters, numbers, etc has been a struggle and big goal for her/us. Feeding herself is a bit messy. We work on buttoning jackets, attempting zippers and laces. She unbuckles her carseat ::side eye:: 

Anna Gray LOVES to cook. It's great practice for fine motor skills! She can make entire meals by herself and she is soooo proud (sames)!

Recently, she has shown us that she can get herself ready for bed from start to finish: Taking off her clothes, putting on a pull up and pajamas all by herself! So proud!

LINCOLN:

Lincoln has the tee-tiniest hands and they are working out just great for her. She has fantastic fine motor skills! 

She is still working on control/strength when it comes to feeding herself, painting etc. but pointing, pushing buttons, grip are all awesome. She loves to brush her own teeth after I brush them!

Her ASL precision is impressive, I think, and she has no trouble removing her clothes and diapers lickitysplit ;)  

• Delayed speech and language development

ANNA GRAY:

Anna Gray was chatty from the day we met her. She has pretty strong verbal skills (um... in three languages). I would say any given person could understand 75% of her speech and it's getting better all the time. 

She has been speaking in 4-5 word sentences/long phrases for a while and has gotten really conversational lately. Some of it is mimmicked conversation still - every time she leaves the house she says "Have a good day! Love you!" or when I pick her up from school she immediately asks, "How was your day?" because that's what she's heard. Her independent conversation has really grown though!

For example, I asked her what she wanted for lunch. She thought about it (always tapping the chin or else it's not really thinking...) and then said, "I want saaam-wich, peanut buttaahh,,, and honeyyy.. and graaaapes aaaannnd pretzels." SO EXCITING. 

She loves to bless our food. I took a picture this night because she said, "Thank you my food, my baby sister, my mommy, Maui- shapeshifter, demi-god, hero of men. Amen."

LINCOLN:

Lincoln's receptive language seems pretty good. Meaning, she usually understands what is being said to her. However, she is totally nonverbal at this time. She makes noises and she has started mimmicking some early sounds, but nothing recognizable yet.

Reminder: not using words does NOT mean not communicating! She is constantly communicating in a variety of ways. Grunting, pointing, facial expressions, ASL (she uses about ten signs consistenly but learning more all the time), fussing, laughing are all communication!

Clearly "saying" Gimme that popsicle...

• Sensory needs

Neither of our girls are super sensory seekers or avoiders. They both LOVE vestibular input (the vestibular system helps with movement, balance, spatial awareness, vision, and emotional regulation.) They both love swinging, spinning, etc but don't seem to crave it necessarily. 

When tired, Anna Gray takes the ends of her hair and pokes herself all over, ha. Somehow that's soothing to her. She also chews her thumb. And Lincoln does not like the grass to touch her feet ever!

• Attention span and impulse control

So far, we have not seen this to be an issue for Lincoln at all. Anna Gray on the other had, has some top-notch (diagnosed) ADHD, that again, may or may not be related to having Down syndrome. While it's true she is very busy and wiggly and all those things, the biggest issue is SAFETY. She is extremely impulsive and completely unaware of consequences. We have gates, locks, alarms and all kinds of business- she's quick.  We are all-hands-on-deck all the time. 

Even with all of those preventions, we were finding her in various places in the night and wee hours of the morning doing who-knows-what. Usually eating food from the freezer... which she opened after climbing the counters to get scissiors or knives that are "out of reach". She has snuck outside (fenced in, but still...) to pick flowers or feed the chickens. Terrifying kinda.

Now she sleeps in a bed tent to keep her safe. She loves it and three of our other kids want one, ha. She's sleeping better and so are we!

This is my favorite "work" to come home from school ever. 

"Draw a picture of yourself showing self-control."

Loving and affectionate nature 

This one is tricky! Yes, our girls love hard. No, they are not happy "all the time." Because, you know, they're humans with a full range of human emotions. They (and by "they" I mean, my daughters... can't speak for anyone else ....) do forgive easily though so I think that quick recovery gives off an overall positive vibe. And the hugs. They hug freely and sometimes aggressively :) This sometimes gets even trickier with attachment in play due to their adoptions. It's a fine line between letting that light shine and teaching them that hugging strangers is not always appropriate. Or that not everyone wants to be hugged! We practice both asking permission AND saying no to someone else's unwanted touch. 

Self-talk 

When AG knows she is wrong, she whispers. It is the cutest thing. Whether she is talking to you or to herself, she does it everytime she knows she's being rotten AND I LOVE IT. She also corrects her own behavior or answers her own questions in the same sing-songy voice her important adults do. Toooo cute. 

Strong will or stubbornness

True in our house! For both girls. However, there's a good chance this is tied to frustration/anxiety when they can't effectively communicate their needs or wants. And the more the frustration builds, the harder it is to communicate (applicable to all people, no?)

The classic "flop and drop" haha. I made her 'Doc McStuffins pancakes' for her birthday, but I didn't have a regular candle- she was not having my improvised fix! 

Visual or hearing impairments

Both of our girls wear....err, have... glasses. Lincoln is legally blind and has pretty severe nystagmus. (go HERE if you're unfamiliar and curious.) And just for some fun eyeball facts: Lincoln's eyes often look "crossed" or moving as if she has ocular weakness. They aren't, actually. She has virtually no nasal bridge at all from the Chinese-DS combo, so it changes *OUR* perception of her eye placement. It looks to us as if her eye(s) cross, but it's actually because she doesn't have a bridge to give us comparison while looking at her. Interesting huh?

Ana Gray may have slight hearing loss, but it's sure not slowing her down. Lincoln hasn't passed a hearing test and recently had an ABR (auditory brainstem response testing) which was normal. So, for now, "she's not not deaf but she can't hear". Not sure what it will mean yet.  It's likely that their ear canals are just too small (Li's are especially teeny tiny, even for her size.), making it harder to hear. 

Heart conditions and increased risk of Leukemia or Thyroid disease

Both of our girls have been cleared by cardiac with no issues and get regular thyroid check ups, but so far so good!

Cognitive delays

Again, such a wide range of abilities. Overall, it takes the girls longer to learn some things or they need to learn it differently but... they learn it. Let me tell you something, these girls are smart as whips! Both of them learn best by what they see modeled. 

Lincoln started helping fold laundry her first week home... just copying what she saw us doing. She "chases" people down the hallway to give them things that belong to them, puts the kids' backpacks and shoes on herself, and reclines on the couch while pointing the remote at the TV haha

We didn't teach Anna Gray to flush a toilet with her foot, she did what we did. There's a bedtime song I sing to her when I tuck her in that has her name in. She's been singing it with me for a few years, but now she sings my name instead, and then sings it with Lincoln's name next. So smart!

Learning by watching others is why inclusion matters so much. In addition to positive peer relationships, if AG is in a class with children who sit at their desks to do their work, following directions, sit on the rug for carpet time... then those are the behaviors she will also do. She wants to be like her friends! TYPICAL STUDENTS BENEFIT TOO. They learn to celebrate differences, not hide them away in a separate classroom, ultimately preparing them for a diverse society outside of school. Which is only scratching the surface of research backing up why this is best for all, really.....

Basically, Down syndrome has some stuff... but in a lot of ways, our little girls are like lots of other little girls. Gray loves singing and dancing, Disney movies, football, PIZZA AND ICE CREAM HOLY COW, playing dress up, and going to the park. Lincoln loves to pretend- she pats her babies on the back after feeding them bottles and cooks plastic food in her play kitchen. She likes snuggling and making people laugh and patty-cake a whole whole lot.


Some of my favorite things about Anna Gray:

She's in a fake-selfie phase. She takes fake selfies daily. 

She constantly gets caught stealing veggies before dinner. 

Her dive. She worked on it all summer which was terrifying and hilarious. This child LOVES to swim!

She wears her rainboots with everything she can. Everything. You may have noticed them several times throughout this post.

She's fiercly independent. It creates some... challenges... at six, but I have no doubt that she will thrive in the future likely living on her own or possibly running the world. 

I did not put her on the counter or ask her to wash the breakfast dishes ;) 

Some of my favorite things about Lincoln:

Her "I want a kiss" face when she's already in bed.

Her love of drinking (anything) through a straw.

Her version of peek-a-boo is the cutest thing ever.

She plays piano all day every day.

And she always breaks it down to 90's hip hop.

Honestly, it baffles me how anyone could look at my girls (or any child/person) as see them as LESS. While there is definitely a more extreme rejection in other parts of the globe, it's also happened right in my own living room.

I'll keep sharing bc I believe education can be so valuable, but... if you've chosen not to see the beauty in what God created, I promise YOU ARE MISSING OUT.

I look at them and see that they are
BEAUTIFUL
ABLE
STRONG
SILLY
JOYFUL
KIND... EXCEPT SOMETIMES NOT BECAUSE THAT'S KIDS
FUNNY
FEARFULLY & WONDERFULLY MADE.

I wouldn't change a single thing about them, not even one little chromosome.