Adoption Day!

 Here's our first picture together. I had to pry her from the director's arms. She did not want to come with me. There was kind of a different guy there who kept taking pictures of us--I don't have a clue how he was associated with the first meeting--he got a lot of pictures of our family. In fact, as you can see below...he was quite certain that he wasn't leaving until we looked completely natural!

 Our hotel is overlooking West Lake. It's the center attraction of one of the largest parks in Fuzhou. It is really beautiful here--the heat and humidity are almost unbearable. We walked around the lake this morning--did about four miles--at the end I looked like I'd taken a shower. The humidity is so high that it appears to be raining all day long. Lou loves to ride in her pink stroller. She calls out to all the children. We don't have a clue what she is saying, but it appears that she would like to make friends with all of them. At one point we let her walk around and she tried to confiscate a bike from one child. Jeff had to keep her from climbing on the bike with the boy.

 The day yesterday was incredibly long--especially since I didn't really sleep well the night before--we were lucky enough to find a pizza place for dinner. At this place they serve your pizza with some plastic food-handler's gloves. All the Chinese people in the place wear the gloves when they eat the pizza. We were a bunch of heathens and ate it old school. Lou was totally disgusted. She kept wiping her hands after each bite, really picking at her food. She finally pointed to the gloves on our table and we let her put them on--she was so happy to have them on and then she went crazy with the food. She's a really good eater. We bought some fruit cups and she almost had a stroke. She LOVES fruit.

 This adoption has been so hard. I don't think that I have ever experienced the level of uncertainty and personal doubt. It just seems like every time we tried to make a move forward there were a thousand reasons why we should just walk away. Yesterday when we went to the adoption registration office, they had Lou put her handprint down on the paper to show her willingness to be adopted. She was so excited to put the ink on--and she smiled so big when she saw her print on the paper. I couldn't help but think that she is ready to be a part of our family. It was probably my favorite moment of the day.

 A few other things I want to remember about yesterday:
* Our guide is Penny. She has a university student with her named Rose. Rose's English is not very good, but she has been helpful.
* Lou is potty trained. She has been so good. We put a diaper on her at night. We had a little accident this morning, but it was probably my fault because I let her drink a ton of milk before breakfast.
* She only cried a little when we first got her and then she was so happy to be with us the rest of the day. She likes to mimic our behavior. While we were riding in the van to the notary she would lean up against the side of the car and put her arm up on the rest just like Jeff. She wanted me to pour the cold water from the bottle into her sippy cup so that she could be just like us.
* She looked at us yesterday afternoon and said, "Mama and Baba," and then nodded her head to herself.
* She loves umbrellas and motorscooters.
* She has already learned to sign "more"-- in fact, at breakfast this morning she kept saying it to everything. She would use her napkin and then call to the waitress to come and pick it up. She really likes to help clean up after she eats and was pretty disgusted that we didn't clean up after lunch.
* She laid down immediately for her nap and slept all through the night--oh, man--is it too good to be true??!
* She loves the Touch-and-Feel book that I brought--her favorite page is the sheep.
* REALLY wants to push buttons on the laptop.
* Loves banana chips.
* The adoption registration office was totally wild. They were all in t-shirts and eating watermelon in the back. The main official had a t-shirt with military--I don't know what they're called, but the shoulder ribbons and badges--anyway, they were just sewn onto the front of this Old Navy t-shirt. It was pretty awesome as far as official apparel is concerned--and even more awesome if you know what some of these Chinese government officials are all about.
* She rubs her lips with her thumb when she is falling asleep. It's almost like she's going to start sucking her thumb--you can tell that she is sucking on her tongue.
* She has a cold and horrible cough--the orphanage sent her with no less than five packets of pills to be given throughout the day. I thought that it would be like giving a pill to a cat--a two-year-old swallowing a pill?? This kid swallows them like a boss. She puts the pill in and takes a swig of water like she's been doing it since a previous life. WTH? These are the kinds of questions that make me wonder--what is life really like in an orphanage?? We laugh because she gets really excited to drink the cough medicine--just like Lachlan.

 When Louisa woke up this morning she was WIDE awake. She didn't stop talking and she kept signing to Jeff that she wanted food! I can see that when she finally gets into her groove that we are going to have to a rule-breaker on our hands. She likes to do something naughty (where we tell her specifically no) and then she throws her head back and smiles this ear-to-ear grin. I can tell that being a snake charmer has served her quite well. The orphanage director told us that she and Happy (that's the little girl's name who is in the video with her for those of you lucky enough to see it) are the King and Queen of the orphanage. We asked which nanny was her favorite and the director told us that the nannies rotate with each other so that they each get a turn with her and Happy.

Also, can you see the humidity on that picture of Jeff and Lou? It's like breathing tar. AND, for the record those shoes are a gift from the orphanage--white sandals--my nemesis. She loved her sunglasses.

 She loves Cup O'Noodles. Jeff and I are constantly laughing because it is like having a Lachlan Junior with us.

She loves to carry her baby with her. She also spent an hour this afternoon taking Crayons out of the box and putting them back in--coloring was not an interest.

Ugh, we just saw on the TV that there is ANOTHER typhoon coming in on Friday--when we are supposed to be headed down to Guangzhou. Holy crap. Seriously.

Tomorrow we are going to her SWI. It is the nicest one in the Province (according to Penny). I am hoping that it doesn't traumatize her--things are going well. It's hard to sit in the hotel room on the free days so I'm thrilled that we'll be getting out. The heat of the day really limits what we can do-- I guess Thursday Penny is taking us to a temple. I asked about the panda place, but Penny just shook her head and said, "Panda's no like heat--they go to the mountains. I don't think you like to see old pandas that are left."

Final note, it is still hard for me to watch people eat here. I don't know when I will be able to handle it. There is so much lip smacking, slurping and grunting that this morning I almost dry-heaved at breakfast. Jeff laughs out loud--especially when people cough and hack and spit on the sidewalk--it is SO hard for me. Someday I'll be tough...

Man Zou

My friend, Nadine, adopted two of her daughters from China. The girls are now nine and eleven. This summer they returned as a family to tour China and visit their orphanages and finding places (places where the girls were found, presumably near a birthplace). Her eldest daughter is from an area near Nanchang. This is a bit from her blog:

"When we met J (daughter) as a baby, the people who brought her to us knew nothing of her. We had been told they had just stopped that morning on the way to Nanchang and picked her up from her foster mother. All identifying information had been blocked out on our paperwork, so we were thrilled to even have a name....[Now, returning years later], we had been told that J's foster mother had been elderly and had passed away five or six years ago. Wendy (tour guide) told us that we could at least get photos of the area where she had lived. Wendy had basic directions to (the village), but we were soon lost and had to ask directions several times. [In her post she further describes trying to find directions from numerous people, also asking if anyone had ever heard of the foster mother's family.]
We had taken several photos of the area and were content knowing that this was the right village, but Wendy would not give up. She stopped one last time at another shoppe and this time a young man on a motorcycle said he knew of a lady who was elderly that used to take care of foster babies with that surname, and he would take us to her. He led the way and we soon came to a muddy little road leading up a small hill. Wendy got out and...[began] talking to a group of women. [She] asked a few more questions and then said, "This is her!"...We motioned for J to come up and the little lady said that she remembered her. [My friend then details a very special reunion with lots of pictures and an invitation for tea.]
Finally we had to leave so we all hugged goodbye and she told us "man zou"--a farewell reserved for special friends. We walked down the hill and got into the van and when we looked up, she had followed us--another gesture for special friends--to go with them on their journey as far as you can.
It was a very unexpected ending to our stop and we asked Wendy what made her think she might still be alive and to keep asking until she found her. She said, "I think the Gods helped us. I kept praying to them (pointing to her heart) "please help us, please help us....and they did. It is a miracle!""

I wonder how many babies this elderly woman passed on lovingly to American, European or Australian strangers. I wonder how many times she has walked to the end of the road, journeying with them until the final moments of distance carries them away to a new life. Man Zou she whispers.

Slowly go.

Man Zou (mahn z-ou) is a common Mandarin Chinese phrase that translates to "walk slow" or "slowly go" When used as a farewell, it's a way of reminding one another to be careful and mindful on the journey, and take the time to see things along the way. Walk slowly and you won't fall.

We will leave for China in three days. Another farewell. Another beginning.
I've experienced a flood of emotion this past month. I don't have a place for all of these feelings--not all of them are bad. As a family we've been focusing on "We will pray and we will plan." It was the only thing I could come up with when we returned home in March. Since then, I've tried to focus on the faith that I do have and like Wendy, I keep praying "please help us, please help us."

It's got to work out this time, right??!

And that's where the Man Zou seeps into my thoughts...somewhere between fear and anxiety and hope and anticipation is this little place where the tears start to fall as I think about how our splendid family of four will soon be five. My children will be a big brother and big sister; and we will have a toddler! Can we slowly go through these last few days together? Taking in every moment of what has been so special and wonderful about these last six years together. Can we walk slowly enough to be mindful of the miracles we have experienced and the strength we have gained from sticking together?

A respectful farewell to tragedy.
A loving, enduring and emotional farewell to these years we've had with just four hearts, forty fingers, and a great deal of cat hair.

Man Zou.
Man Zou.
Man Zou.

Dinosaurland

I remember going to Dinosaurland with my sisters when I was a kid. I remembered the giant green brontosaurus and a huge triceratops, but most of those old landmarks have been replaced. In fact, the old natural history building is nothing more than a shell. It's also interesting that the long-necked dinosaur Brontosaurus isn't ever called that anymore--I couldn't even find one of those--now they are Apatosaurus, Brachiosaurus, or Diplodocus.

My favorite part of the trip was pulling up to the NHM and having Jack screaming and unbuckling his seatbelt. He was so excited to see the Stegosaurus and Veloceraptor. "Pull over, pull over! I have to get out here! This is what I'm talking about--look at that T-Rex!!" He had his ipod with him so he kept taking his own pictures of the dinosaurs and giving us a scientific account of what each one ate and how they captured their prey. 

Jack checks on his photographic collection. He even took pictures of the charts and graphs on the wall.

Your basic geologic rock collection. I told the kids all about how Aunt Sara used to keep a 5-gallon bucket full of rocks in her closet. I thought maybe they would think it was funny, but they both felt like they had been denied a privilege by not being able to keep their own bucket o'rocks.

This was their favorite exhibit. They were able to dig for some "bones". They really got into it.

We did some great hikes. Jack tried desperately to catch a lizard. I was so nervous that he would shove his hand into some brush and get bitten by a rattlesnake. It was such a beautiful time of year to visit the high desert. It's not like So. Utah desert--it's a place that is pretty barren after it gets dry--so I'm glad that we could be there now.

 Sego Lily in full bloom. I haven't seen these for so long.

 Hikes are bearable with bits of shade.

 Clean air means lots of lichens.

The kids look happy in this picture, but there was some complaining about how soon we were going to be finished. We did see some fossils still in the rocks on this hike, which was pretty cool.

Petroglyphs are always cool for 30 seconds. I was glad that we were able to drive to this location--it was quite a trek and this picture pretty much sums up everything there was to see. In full disclosure, Jack had to sit in the car during the viewing because I thought that I might kill him. He's going through a phase where he likes to directly disobey and then pretend like he never heard what you said in the first place. Makes me crazy. Also, baby talk...what's with that??

Anyway, most of the family witnessed this historical marvel.

Just a note about our hotel room--we went cheap and I'm so glad we did. Jack proved once again that he will throw up in every pool we swim in (so gross) and I learned that I can indeed sleep with earplugs. It was high school graduation night and the walls were paper thin. I have been resisting the ear plugs for SO long, but the thought of listening to graduates until 3AM was overwhelming. In the end, I got a great night sleep and I've been wearing them ever since!

 The next morning we took the shuttle bus spewing diesel fumes up to the quarry. The quarry is amazing.

I am not a geologist, but this is an unbelievable sight. You can't help but wonder what the world was like when these massive creatures roamed the earth. I'm always surprised by people who are rattled by questions of evolution and creation. When looking at a wall like this how can you not believe equally in evolution and the grandeur of such imaginative creation!

We drove home through Flaming Gorge. Both Jeff and I couldn't believe how beautiful it looked--we took lots of detours and checked out all of the overlooks.

 
 We ate crackers, licorice, almonds and cheese sticks. We didn't check our phones and we had to beg for a map at the information center.

 We spotted squirrels and hawks. I worried about the kids falling off the edge or into a crevice (there are some deep ones). The Ashley National Forest is amazing. This is a place that we would like to come back to and do some camping. The kids were telling Jeff all about Star Wars Angry Birds and how they were able to move up a level. They wanted Jeff to help them get to the next level "because it was so hard"--ugh.

Lovely flowers growing out from under a rock.
We were able to find a Red Box at a Maverick on the way home and you would have thought that we won the lottery. Vacationing with the kids...always an adventure.

Hunters & Gatherers

This is quite a crew of cousins. I can't believe how quickly they are growing up. 

 Baby Elisabeth.

I love this view from Jeff's mom's house. Spring is the best season.

Slacklining

I love these pictures of my sisters slacklining. We were all together over Easter weekend. These pictures make us look like we are awesome--slacklining is hard. Jeff placed two poles in our backyard today so that we could practice.

The voice of the shepherd

I've been trying to write this post for several months. In fact, I've written sections of it more than once in my mind and on paper. I just couldn't ever get it right--I couldn't figure out how all of the pieces of the lesson were supposed to come together. Now the words are finally in my mouth and I am at peace with them.

I don't have any dates or times for the following story. If I had to guess, I'd probably say I was at least twelve but not yet to fourteen. It was in the days when Grandpa Judd was still pretty heavily involved with the day to day business of the ranch...sheep days. I have such distinct memories of working with the sheep. Perhaps because everything about working with them was so very different than working with the cattle; and also, because Old Bill called the shots when it came to the sheep. Whether you ever knew him or not, let me make this perfectly clear--the man knew about sheep. He's the only person I've ever seen my own father defer to at any time...and maybe only about sheep.

Every fall the ewes and lambs were taken from Spring Canyon and pushed down to the pastures across from our house. On one of these drives I remember this specific moment:

I'm sitting on a horse with my dad riding next to me. We are near the top of the Buck Pasture, where the corrals now sit. We are riding out to the edge of a steep side hill that is covered in Quaking Aspen. The sheep have bedded down in what is left of the frozen underbrush. It is very early in the morning, just at the brink of sunrise. It is quiet and as we get near to the sheep you can hear the tink-tink of their bells. There is a heavy thick fog that has risen over their bodies measuring the temperature change between their heat and the air.

We are quiet. The sheep are quiet. My dad speaks to me low and direct, "Grandpa is at the bottom of this canyon. He is going to call to the sheep and they are going to come. These ewes are ready to go, the older ones have the bells and they will recognize his voice and know what to do. The others will follow them. When they decide to go, they will go on a dead run. You must keep up. Don't leave any behind. Let the horse run with them. Hang on to the horn if you have to because it's going to be steep. I'm going to ride out to the north and bring them from that direction. I will see you at the bottom."

And then he rode away.

Old Bill's sheep call is a loud "Brrrrr, Brrrrrr" noise. I heard it sound from the distance. At first, the sheep stir slightly, but at the second round of calls it was as if the entire side of the mountain began to shift and slide down through the trees in a continuous motion. Hot, woolen bodies moving in an avalanche of legs and bells and baas. They listened. They understood. Without regard for self or safety they ran with relentless speed toward the shepherd.

The Spirit works in such interesting ways of remembrance to teach us about the present. I've been pondering the power of voice. Repeatedly, I've been prompted to consider whose voice I am listening to; do I understand the message?

Last night I assisted in a Mormon Women Project event here in Cache Valley [www.mormonwomen.com]. The event was centered around a panel discussion on "Being Co-Creators With God" with Ronda Callister, Krisanne Hastings Knudsen, and Laura Wolford. It was an overwhelmingly powerful experience for me. The Spirit was so strong that at one point I looked around the room and realized that we were all listening to the same voice. The language of God is certainly individual, but I had such a powerful resonating perception that we were running to the Shepherd. Collectively.

Our lives are submersed with voices. Simply put, one of the most difficult choices of this dispensation will be to seek the stillness long enough recognize and hear His voice. It takes courage to hear what He has to say and consider the outcomes. It takes confidence and humility to push back the fear. It takes resolve and love to remain obedient. It takes faith to understand that there will continually be "fish in the basket".

Wouldn't it be easier if we could love and be loved, to trust and be trusted to the point that we could go together? The voice that tells you you are all alone, that you will not be understood, and should be ashamed of your unique perspective--well, I hate that voice.

Did you see the commencement speech given by Oprah Winfrey at Harvard? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GMWFieBGR7c
These are just a few of the highlights which stood out to me:
"Failure is just life trying to move you in another direction."
"Your [life] resume should be more about who you want to become--your purpose"
"What unites us is far more redeeming and compelling than anything that separates us"
"You simply cannot demonize or vilify someone who disagrees with you. Because when you do the discussion is over."
"The single common denominator of life is that we all want to be validated." [starting at 20 minutes she gives an incredible example of listening to voices, stories and experiences--a MUST SEE]

"Did you hear me?
Do you see me?
Did what I say mean anything to you?
There really is only one goal; to fulfill the highest, most truthful expression of yourself as a human being"...oh, Oprah, you've got skills. Truth.

Do you know that your voice matters?
Do you know that listening to His voice can bless your life?
Do you know how your own experiences and testimony [voice] can lift, inspire, strengthen and touch others in immeasurable ways? The most truthful expressions of yourself as a child of God...our most truthful selves are the ones that move others most deeply.

I'm so grateful for tiny glimpses of what women [and men] can become when we go TOGETHER toward heaven.

"...and they shall hear my voice; and there shall be one fold, and one shepherd."

Written for April and Brian Hawkes for understanding my stories.

...We are sending you this red balloon.

That's just one of the things Lachlan said in her goodbye letter. I thought about taking some pictures of the sweet notes they wrote, but it felt like a violation. It's been a month. Most of it a blur, but also some great reflection on what is most important.

We decided as a family that it was time for us to say goodbye to Greta. I've been thinking about doing something tangible for weeks, but I just couldn't bring myself to work through the process. It's hard to be a parent and try to reconcile your own feelings without neglecting what needs to happen for your children to be at peace. The kids keep asking when we are going to go back to China to check on Greta--to make sure that she is alright. It will be years before they really realize that there aren't any easy answers, or maybe even an answer at all to their concerns.

We each wrote a goodbye letter to Greta and tied it to a red balloon. Lachlan says that it is Greta's favorite color. The color of China. The color of the red thread. To which Jack replied, "the thread that connects our hearts." As we were watching the balloons fade into the East, Lachlan said softly, "these balloons will fly over the mountains straight to her and she will know that we love her."