We've now been in Guangzhou for five days. Normally, we wouldn't have such an extended wait, but they are moving the U.S. Consulate General to a new location in the financial district of the city. We were able to get one of the first appointments when they open in the new office, but even then it isn't until Thursday morning at 8:30AM. We've met only three other families who are here adopting--they are lucky because they have appointments tomorrow.
When Jeff was here in 2007 you couldn't shake a stick in this part of Guangzhou without hitting an adoptive family. Things have really changed. There are still countless orphans, but the number of adoptions worldwide from China has decreased by 65 percent. It is so depressing to walk around Shamain Island and not see even one other adoptive family. Today we saw our first adoptive family on the street--they were adopting their second Chinese daughter. She was four and had a repaired cleft lip/palate. We recognized them from our medical appointment last Saturday. They brought their seven-year-old daughter (adopted six years ago) along with them. She was very protective of her new sister. She was screaming at the doctors while they were doing a blood draw. It is always nice to have a brief interaction with another family who understands what it took to get here--and the stress of the whole process.
So there's been several things that have happened over the past few days. We went for a medical exam last Saturday. It wasn't my finest hour of self control. We were shuttled down the hall with our guide Helen and walked directly into a doctor's office. The doctor opened our paperwork for five seconds and then stated, "you no get visa with this papers". I didn't even try to stay calm. It was all I could do not to start screaming obscenities. Long story short, after practically beating old Helen, bawling in the hallway, and taking a personal timeout it was explained that they needed further information about how Louisa was treated for her condition at the orphanage. They brought in the main doctor to explain that if they could get the correct paperwork then everything would be cleared for our consulate appointment. We also had a merciful moment because our adoption agency director, Heidi, just happened to be touring the medical facility that morning with us and she was able to make it clear that the guides needed to deal with the problem immediately. She helped them to understand that our family has some PTSD issues and just having her there helped me to calm down and quit crying. We had to wait through the weekend to get all of it cleared up but they tell me we are good to go--I'm not resting easy until Thursday afternoon. I'll be so glad to be done with this process. It is tough. I've never had such a test of faith--absolute faith in things that are completely out of your control.
The truth is that the hardest part is that one minute your praying, asking God to protect you and your kids and to please send angels and miracles...and the next minute your so mad at the people who are seemingly controlling your fate that all you can think about is telling them to eff themselves and throwing some chairs. You seriously start to feel like you are losing your mind. You start to question if you have any faith at all if you feel like hitting an old woman will make it better.
To act and not be acted upon.
These are the questions I cannot answer--I've learned much over the past 18 months--but I can kiss sainthood goodbye.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Ramblings
The nights are the worst.
I actually dread them because I'm so tired, but I still can't seem to sleep through the night. I haven't been letting myself take a nap in the afternoon because I don't want to sleep less at night--you get the idea. I've basically turned into a Jekyll and Hyde that just wants to either cry it off or sleep it off. I'd take some meds, but tonight I caught Louisa trying to climb out of her crib and escape. The only thing that stopped her from getting on the night bus to Nanping was that her foot got tangled in the bars and it alerted her mortal nemesis (me).
I can honestly say that I've never had someone dislike me enough to wet themselves to get off my lap--until yesterday morning. She had an absolute #$%@ fit because I picked her up and sat her down on my lap. Frankly, there's a bit of a fine line here between her not liking me and her trying to control parts of her life by having temper tantrums. I can see that she has been allowed a few undesirable habits because of her Cheshire Cat grin--it's frustrating to be patient enough to give her some space and also let her know that screaming like a lunatic won't get you any favors.
Also...I'm homesick.
It's hard. Really. hard. not to think about how much easier dealing with all of the emotions would be if I could sleep in my own bed (Angie, I forgot my ear plugs--so you know how I'm really doing here)...there's a whole list tonight so I'll spare you the pity party. We still have another week. Another. week.
It hasn't been all hateful urination and evil eye--
Yesterday we visited the oldest temple in the province. It has the largest Buddha and was built in 867 (Tong Dynasty). It was a large place--not much different from other temples we have visited in the past. They are trying to restore large sections of it. Truthfully, the drive there was the best part. The traffic in the city is horrific. Probably some of the worst I've ever seen in any part of this country. The streets are old and narrow, but there are so many people that there will never be enough room to expand the space for the number of vehicles moving everywhere. Nevertheless, the car is air conditioned and moving so slowly that you can really get a good look at the city. I really wish that I wasn't so concerned about wasting fuel and time--I'd tell that driver to just keep on going all morning.
After the temple we were able to drive to the Women's and Children's Maternity Hospital where Louisa was found at the gate on January 31, 2011. Penny gave us a copy of her finding ad--it matches what it says in her file about being found by a policeman. He gave a description about her being small, large head, lighter skin. It also says that her parents cannot be located. There was no birth note left with her.
I can't comprehend how someone could just leave a baby at this gate. I'm not even talking abandonment--I'm talking there are about 10K people at this entrance gate. How would you get away unnoticed??! I wish that it would list a time in her file about what time of day was she found--did they leave her in the middle of the night? I stood on the street corner and tried to figure it out. It is absolutely certain they knew she would be found immediately. Did they just run? Penny told us it is the best children's hospital in the province. There were thousands of pregnant women going in and out, ambulances dropping off people, beggars, sellers, random city weirdos--all of it on this street corner. It felt wild and chaotic and confusing and holy and special...all at the same time.
Late yesterday afternoon we walked through the city. Walking outside is pretty interesting, but you have to just tell yourself that it's going to be so hot that you think you might die--and then do it anyway. Our kids would have never made it. Kids shouldn't come to China in July. Ever. Louisa doesn't seem to mind. I'm certain it's because she lived for the past two years inside a cement Dutch Oven. I know--I went to there.
The city is very clean. It feels safe. There are lots of things to see--even more to smell. I'd post some pictures but the internet at this hotel makes it so painful. I'll try to add them tomorrow when we get to Guangzhou. We wandered through supermarkets, alley markets--we got Lou some smaller underwear at a "baby store". I also got her some new shoes. They're squeaky shoes. It's all that they have for "little babies"--apparently, parents here love it. Oh, Asia--
I also wanted to write about the square dancing. There are thousands of people on every corner, in parks, shady spots, bus stops and they are doing a slow version of ballroom dancing. Penny said it is called square dancing and it is all the rage with old people and housewives. I told her in the U.S. square dancing is a type of cowboy dancing and then Jeff went so far as to do some "calling" for her. Both of us sat there with our mouths open for that moment. She laughed and said she saw it once on a movie and really liked the music for the cowboy dancing. In the evenings the streets--any open space area is filled with people blasting music from their radios while they do a Chinese version of Zumba. It looks like the world's biggest flash mob outside of our hotel in the government parking lot. The music is pretty awesome because it is usually a jazzed up instrumental version of something like, "what's love got to do with it" or an Avril Lavigne song being sung with an Asian accent. Which reminds me...our driver has a whole stack of Britney Spears CDs in his van...had a silent laugh to self today in the car.
I actually dread them because I'm so tired, but I still can't seem to sleep through the night. I haven't been letting myself take a nap in the afternoon because I don't want to sleep less at night--you get the idea. I've basically turned into a Jekyll and Hyde that just wants to either cry it off or sleep it off. I'd take some meds, but tonight I caught Louisa trying to climb out of her crib and escape. The only thing that stopped her from getting on the night bus to Nanping was that her foot got tangled in the bars and it alerted her mortal nemesis (me).
I can honestly say that I've never had someone dislike me enough to wet themselves to get off my lap--until yesterday morning. She had an absolute #$%@ fit because I picked her up and sat her down on my lap. Frankly, there's a bit of a fine line here between her not liking me and her trying to control parts of her life by having temper tantrums. I can see that she has been allowed a few undesirable habits because of her Cheshire Cat grin--it's frustrating to be patient enough to give her some space and also let her know that screaming like a lunatic won't get you any favors.
Also...I'm homesick.
It's hard. Really. hard. not to think about how much easier dealing with all of the emotions would be if I could sleep in my own bed (Angie, I forgot my ear plugs--so you know how I'm really doing here)...there's a whole list tonight so I'll spare you the pity party. We still have another week. Another. week.
It hasn't been all hateful urination and evil eye--
Yesterday we visited the oldest temple in the province. It has the largest Buddha and was built in 867 (Tong Dynasty). It was a large place--not much different from other temples we have visited in the past. They are trying to restore large sections of it. Truthfully, the drive there was the best part. The traffic in the city is horrific. Probably some of the worst I've ever seen in any part of this country. The streets are old and narrow, but there are so many people that there will never be enough room to expand the space for the number of vehicles moving everywhere. Nevertheless, the car is air conditioned and moving so slowly that you can really get a good look at the city. I really wish that I wasn't so concerned about wasting fuel and time--I'd tell that driver to just keep on going all morning.
After the temple we were able to drive to the Women's and Children's Maternity Hospital where Louisa was found at the gate on January 31, 2011. Penny gave us a copy of her finding ad--it matches what it says in her file about being found by a policeman. He gave a description about her being small, large head, lighter skin. It also says that her parents cannot be located. There was no birth note left with her.
I can't comprehend how someone could just leave a baby at this gate. I'm not even talking abandonment--I'm talking there are about 10K people at this entrance gate. How would you get away unnoticed??! I wish that it would list a time in her file about what time of day was she found--did they leave her in the middle of the night? I stood on the street corner and tried to figure it out. It is absolutely certain they knew she would be found immediately. Did they just run? Penny told us it is the best children's hospital in the province. There were thousands of pregnant women going in and out, ambulances dropping off people, beggars, sellers, random city weirdos--all of it on this street corner. It felt wild and chaotic and confusing and holy and special...all at the same time.
Late yesterday afternoon we walked through the city. Walking outside is pretty interesting, but you have to just tell yourself that it's going to be so hot that you think you might die--and then do it anyway. Our kids would have never made it. Kids shouldn't come to China in July. Ever. Louisa doesn't seem to mind. I'm certain it's because she lived for the past two years inside a cement Dutch Oven. I know--I went to there.
The city is very clean. It feels safe. There are lots of things to see--even more to smell. I'd post some pictures but the internet at this hotel makes it so painful. I'll try to add them tomorrow when we get to Guangzhou. We wandered through supermarkets, alley markets--we got Lou some smaller underwear at a "baby store". I also got her some new shoes. They're squeaky shoes. It's all that they have for "little babies"--apparently, parents here love it. Oh, Asia--
I also wanted to write about the square dancing. There are thousands of people on every corner, in parks, shady spots, bus stops and they are doing a slow version of ballroom dancing. Penny said it is called square dancing and it is all the rage with old people and housewives. I told her in the U.S. square dancing is a type of cowboy dancing and then Jeff went so far as to do some "calling" for her. Both of us sat there with our mouths open for that moment. She laughed and said she saw it once on a movie and really liked the music for the cowboy dancing. In the evenings the streets--any open space area is filled with people blasting music from their radios while they do a Chinese version of Zumba. It looks like the world's biggest flash mob outside of our hotel in the government parking lot. The music is pretty awesome because it is usually a jazzed up instrumental version of something like, "what's love got to do with it" or an Avril Lavigne song being sung with an Asian accent. Which reminds me...our driver has a whole stack of Britney Spears CDs in his van...had a silent laugh to self today in the car.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
A Hard Goodbye
Dear Louisa,
This morning we went with you to visit your orphanage to give you a chance to say goodbye. Dad and I wanted to meet your friends and nannies. I think that you knew it was going to be a hard day because you woke up screaming in the night and wouldn't eat hardly any breakfast.
We stopped on the way to get some treats for your friends--Penny told us that suckers were always a favorite for the kids. We should have known because your sister loves suckers too.
Your old home is a very tall building. When we drove up to the gate you sat right up in my lap and got very excited because you recognized it. There are lots of Chinese lanterns in the lobby--with an indoor jungle gym--you were very happy to be there. We met with the woman who is in charge of all the smaller children there. You spent the first two years of your life on the second floor. Older children live on the upper floors.
From the moment we walked in the door everyone called out your name--janitors, staff, older kids, younger kids--everyone at the Fuzhou SWI knows who you are! You waved and smiled at everyone.
We took the elevator to the second floor. As soon as we got off the elevator, a young girl (16) who has lived her whole life in the orphanage saw you and screamed, "MI!" She had some crooked arms and legs but came running down the hall with her arms reached out for you. You threw your body out to meet her and grabbed her around her neck and cried tears of joy. You both hugged and danced together in the hallway. All the other nannies were then screaming your name and you hugged and cried with each of them. All my life I won't ever forget that moment. It was such a special, bittersweet moment for everyone there.
The director asked you to come back to us, but you were very upset. You screamed and cried very hard because you wanted to stay with them. I know that they loved you and you loved them. It was hard for everyone--it was hard for me and dad not to cry because we could see that it was heartbreaking for you to leave the only home you have ever known.
Here is what I know for sure--you are a brave and special girl. There have been so many prayers that I have prayed that your Heavenly Father would send special people, angels, and miracles to watch out for and take care of you. Today I witnessed a love even beyond what I imagined possible for this circumstance. I don't ever want you to doubt that these women did far beyond what is expected--don't ever take it for granted.
I can see that you have a great capacity to love and care for other children who are very sick and have great disabilities. I know that you have been doing your part to help them. Never forget to watch out for those who are less fortunate--it will bless your life a thousand fold if you will do so.
Life is a long journey. You will have incredible opportunities to do great things because you have been given a chance to come with us, but I hope that somehow you will push yourself even further for those friends who will never leave.
I love you.
Mom
This morning we went with you to visit your orphanage to give you a chance to say goodbye. Dad and I wanted to meet your friends and nannies. I think that you knew it was going to be a hard day because you woke up screaming in the night and wouldn't eat hardly any breakfast.
We stopped on the way to get some treats for your friends--Penny told us that suckers were always a favorite for the kids. We should have known because your sister loves suckers too.
Your old home is a very tall building. When we drove up to the gate you sat right up in my lap and got very excited because you recognized it. There are lots of Chinese lanterns in the lobby--with an indoor jungle gym--you were very happy to be there. We met with the woman who is in charge of all the smaller children there. You spent the first two years of your life on the second floor. Older children live on the upper floors.
From the moment we walked in the door everyone called out your name--janitors, staff, older kids, younger kids--everyone at the Fuzhou SWI knows who you are! You waved and smiled at everyone.
We took the elevator to the second floor. As soon as we got off the elevator, a young girl (16) who has lived her whole life in the orphanage saw you and screamed, "MI!" She had some crooked arms and legs but came running down the hall with her arms reached out for you. You threw your body out to meet her and grabbed her around her neck and cried tears of joy. You both hugged and danced together in the hallway. All the other nannies were then screaming your name and you hugged and cried with each of them. All my life I won't ever forget that moment. It was such a special, bittersweet moment for everyone there.
The director asked you to come back to us, but you were very upset. You screamed and cried very hard because you wanted to stay with them. I know that they loved you and you loved them. It was hard for everyone--it was hard for me and dad not to cry because we could see that it was heartbreaking for you to leave the only home you have ever known.
Here is what I know for sure--you are a brave and special girl. There have been so many prayers that I have prayed that your Heavenly Father would send special people, angels, and miracles to watch out for and take care of you. Today I witnessed a love even beyond what I imagined possible for this circumstance. I don't ever want you to doubt that these women did far beyond what is expected--don't ever take it for granted.
I can see that you have a great capacity to love and care for other children who are very sick and have great disabilities. I know that you have been doing your part to help them. Never forget to watch out for those who are less fortunate--it will bless your life a thousand fold if you will do so.
Life is a long journey. You will have incredible opportunities to do great things because you have been given a chance to come with us, but I hope that somehow you will push yourself even further for those friends who will never leave.
I love you.
Mom
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Adoption Day!
* 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.
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.
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...
Sunday, July 7, 2013
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:
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.
"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.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
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.
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.
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!
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 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.
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Hunters & Gatherers
This is quite a crew of cousins. I can't believe how quickly they are growing up.
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.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
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.
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.
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