Happy Harvest 2019

Doctor Isaac and Queen Elsa were ready to celebrate the Harvest this year!  So much fun getting dressed up after a regular school day and doing something fun.

Isaac has a long history of Harvest Parties so we've had time to grow into the craziness that games and music and food and people and candy can be.  (He was particularly good at the balance games this year!)

Mila, not so much. This was her first event and even with all the fun of getting dressed up and the promise of chocolate (her life giving love language!), one game was enough and she was done.  We found the preschool room and some colors and finished our evening there. BUT, if any of our friends found us, she was quick to happily announce "I'm not Mila, I'm ELSA"  (Please, people, this dress itches. Make it worth my while)

I had reached out to our missionary friends in Albania asking how I could explain Harvest to my new daughter. They are Americans and even know our church well. "Yeah...outside of the chocolate, there is no explaining this to her".   You see, instead of knocking on strangers' doors and threatening to cause harm to their bodies or property unless they give you candy, we dress up so you can't recognize anyone, go to church, play goofy games, have thousands of pieces of chocolate put in a bucket that you carry around, then watch a man on a unicycle catch oranges on spiked helmet on this head, all because the "harvest" from the farm that we don't have is fully collected, but not by us.  Got it?!  They were right. There is no explaining this.  Coloring was indeed our best option. 

Next year will be different. And the year after that will be different too. That is how we collect our harvest...one piece of fruit at a time. 

52 Weeks of Family: Happy First Family Day Mila!

Mila:

One year ago you literally ran into my arms, slow-mo (thanks to your bad hips) just like in the movies. No one planned it this way but you literally could not wait one. second. more. to have a flam-ly all of your own. Busting out of the arms of the Sisters down the alley into the arms your new mom was the only reaction your little heart could come up with. And after 153 days of an epic adoption roller coaster, what a joyous moment that was!  I can only imagine this will be our response when our Heavenly Father returns for us <3 

You have come SO FAR this last year, Mila. When I re-watch videos from our first days home--lost, confused, surviving this strange new life--and compare them to now, you are a totally different kid. The sass hasn't decreased at all *eyeroll*, but your confidence and compassion and togetherness (is that a trait?) are tangible. You have been knit together into this family. A healthy graft, ready to bloom. 

And while we still have so far to go, I feel like these last two weeks alone have somehow given a stamp of approval to our first year together. It seems so small, but you've started walking around the house without your shoes on. (I can guarantee all my adoption friends just gasped and smiled!). I honestly hadn't really noticed that you were keeping your shoes on, but I definitely noticed when they came off and all that it signified. Children with an institutionalized past often keep their shoes on at all times--shoes are usually the only thing they can call their own as they are size specific, and shoes are the only thing that can allow you to escape safely. Many adopted children, especially older children, fight against going barefoot in their new homes and will often sleep with their shoes on. What if my shoes disappear in the morning? What if this place isn't safe? What if I need to go quickly??  But not anymore...those sneakers tossed aside in the family room speaks volumes!  Your heart & psyche feel safe. It's ok to slip off the shoes and wander without fear in YOUR home.  Welcome HOME, daughter. We made it through the first year. <3 

Outside of your FROZEN and chocolate addictions, there are few activities that you have expressed real interest in...except swimming. You've only been a handful of times but you LOVE it!  I surprised you and your brother with a trip to a rec center that has a pool with a lazy river, whirlpool and big twirly slide among other things. You were SO EXCITED. "Mila, do you want to go swimming?!" "WHAT?!  YES!  Mommy!  YES swimming!"   I was so happy to give you an experience that you love so much. I'm sad we don't have an underwater camera to document your jumps, bubbles and squeals, but I know both my heart and yours have those memories locked away.  Just before we left, the lifeguard gave us special permission to let me catch you at the bottom of the big twirly slide. You came down upside down and screaming bloody murder! But when I lifted you from the (3 feet of) water, I held you and calmed you and told you how brave you were you responded instantly with "I know! Of course!"   Yep, that's my kid. <3 

Isaac:

I'm so proud of how you have handled this last year (last two years, really!). Your little heart was my biggest concern when I said YES to this crazy international-teenage-adoption adventure and the Lord repeatedly said He would father you well. You schlepped across the globe four times, opened your heart to this new person who was carrying so much of her own hurt and allowed my heart to double in size. And truly, you two couldn't be more different: you are my affectionate, rambunctious, adventurous puppy, and your sister is my sassy, slightly standoffish & annoyed, adolescent tabby cat. But that is what makes us a family, uh?  You go in her room & get on her nerves, but you are also the first to bring her her water bottle and comfort her when she is sad. You, Isaac, are a great little brother. 

Then (May 2018: Meeting for the first time):

Now: 

Me:

We did it. We made it through the first year. Boy, do I feel like we have earned the imaginary First Year badge of honor. It hasn't been easy. It could have been a lot worse! Of this, I am totally aware--older children coming from life long institutionalization come with a lot of emotional baggage. I worked hard to prepare for every worst care scenario imaginable and attempted to set my expectations real low for this first year together. This was probably our saving grace, but the Hard was still there. Cry into the pillow-how in the world are we going to survive this-Hard. I don't share that to be a deterrent to anyone who is following God's call into this unknown. Just the opposite, really. I hope anyone who is reading this sees the testimony of God's ultimate goodness. He doesn't promise us an easy path...He does promise to see us through to the other side, scarred for our perfection and for His glory. 

In this last year, I have striven to keep our world both small and wide at the same. Us together as a family at all times, but lots of experiences together; giving Mila a family and opening up her world. We've gotten good at selfies! And I'm proud to present just a handful (seriously!) of the photos we have as a family of three. This is our first year. This is us...Mila's Flamly. <3 

Feast of Celebration

As we are nearing the one year anniversary of Mila's homecoming, I am taking time to reflect on a few days I hadn't had time to process in Albania...

I had a couple of non-traditional requests for our Gotchya Day...one was to walk from our adoption apartment to the orphanage (I really wanted to reclaim that holy walk that we left unfinished 93 days prior), and two was to have a celebration meal at our favorite Greek restaurant with our local Albanian friends & family.   It took me a bit to figure out WHY I wanted these two things, specifically the meal, then it occurred to me that God always celebrates redemption with a feast.   The wedding feast, the feast of the prodigal son, the feast that awaits us in Heaven when we all arrive and finally CELEBRATE.

I wanted a sit down meal to celebrate Kamila Naomi's adoption into our family. This year-long process had involved four crossings of the Atlantic Ocean, appeals to the Mother Superior General of the Missionaries of Charity Catholic Order in India, an emotionally (if not legally) corrupt Albanian judge, 1000 degree heat, epic rainstorms, over $60,000 and 93 days of not knowing when my daughter would be legally released into my arms. NO ONE on Earth could have foreseen the up hill battle to bring this one child and her extra chromosome into a family...but our God in Heaven knew every single moment. And through every one of those moments that dropped us to our knees to seek His wisdom, His will, His power through our weakness, He was glorified. THAT is what I wanted to celebrate (with some ahhhhh-mazing Greek food!)

We also needed a distraction.  Mila had just left all that she had ever known to be given into the arms of the nice blue eyed lady who visited over the summer. She was so brave, but her final departure from the Sisters was on the side of a road in rush hour Elbasan traffic outside of a notary office.  It was NOT ideal, but the final goodbyes needed to be said and there was no getting around it. She cried...hard. But she also leaned into her new mommy as I cried with her. I ushered her into the waiting van and let her wail into my chest as we drove to our first meal as a family. There is no way to describe the sacredness of that moment. I hold those precious broken tears of both my children on their Gotchya Days in a very special place in my heart.

Part of the distraction was her own camera--to take pictures of absolutely anything she wanted to. It was her Albania. Her adoption. Her grand adventure to the other side of the world. I wanted her to have control of something. She didn't have to share her camera and she didn't have to show her pictures. They were all hers.  Thankfully, she did share them and I am honored to see what she saw during our Feast of Celebration that night...

Final pictures of the Sisters...

Our Missionary friends...

Our sweet Albanian friends...

These blurry, cheap digital camera photos are so precious to me. They are the images of redemption; of God's grace in all our lives; of the first memories of flam-ly my girl captured in her brain. 

Feast of Celebration. 

Attika Restaurant, Elbasan, Albania.  

Monday October 22, 2018. 

How priceless is your unfailing love, O God!  People take refuge in the shadow of your wings. They feast on the abundance of your house; you give them drink from your river of delights. For with you is the fountain of life' in your light we see light.  

Psalm 36: 7-9

52 Weeks of Family: Week 51

Mila:

Out of no where you decided you could say KITCHEN and KENNEDY. It's like a switch flipped! And honestly, I'm kinda sad about it. Even your teacher (Ms. Kennedy) took a minute to grieve with me. We were totally prepared to have her be "Nic-A-Nanny" for rest of her days as even the other teachers in the classroom have taken to calling her the nickname you had given her.  It's a bitter sweet sign of growth, just like when your cousin stopped staying 'kep-up' for ketchup and while your brother still calls balsamic vinegar 'bal-teek-E' I know he'll say it correctly one day too.  Well done honey. You've come A LONG way in the last year!  Although, your current favorite phrase..."oh my goodness people!!"  is getting a lot of mileage *eyeroll*

Baby's first trip to the pumpkin patch was this week. You were really excited before we arrived, but when we got there...not so much. I tried to think through why it was so overwhelming for you, but truly...piles of orange gourds, a petting zoo, yellow duckie races, funnel cakes and exactly 1200 people during the middle of the day...I guess that doesn't make a lot of sense does it?  (Actually, now that I think about it, nothing was paved. I think that was the biggest trigger for you and your untrustworthy feet).

  

So we cut our visit short and opted to NOT disembowel the pumpkins, but opted for a painting experience instead. This was a good choice as you painted your pumpkin "Blue Elsa with red leaf" (ie, the cover of your new Frozen 2 coloring book)

Isaac:
You love a good pun'kin patch and not only asked for a few photos...you posed yourself!  When you aren't turning my hair grey, you are absolutely cracking me up <3

You had a more 'abstract' approach to pumpkin painting, which included finding the pumpkin's belly button (is that a thing?) and ultimately delving into a full sensory experience with the paints.  Any day that ends in a bath is a good day for Isaac. 

Then, out of no where, your tooth up and popped out of your face during the middle of church! There was a bit of a mad scramble to reassure you the rest of your face wasn't going to fall off (legit concern), find some tissue to wipe the blood dripping off your lips, get an offering envelope for the defunct tooth and make sure said tooth-in-envelope didn't get put in the tithe basket that was quickly coming down our row! When we talk about making room for Jesus, this isn't exactly what we were talking about *wink*

Me:

Fall has arrived. The heat is on in the house now and we've 'harvested' our first batch of pumpkin chocolate chip muffins. These are SOOOO good!  I'm hoping for a bumper crop this year!  It feels good to be in this season. One year ago we were packing up our bags again to cross the ocean to Albania having no clue what this first year together would look like. And now as we've come full circle it feels good to look back and know...know something about us as a unit. We have nearly 365 days of experience together as a family to build on; those days have been vital for our future success. I feel like we have some ground under us now; we've run a lap and might have some good intel for the next few bends in the road ahead of us. Feels good. And the vibrant fall colors and cozy slippers are only adding to that comfort. 

52 Weeks of Family: Week 50

Mila:

Over the course of the last 50 weeks you and I have been working through several different behavior and character 'items of interest' *wink*  It's a real bummer to have to address these now, at your age, with so much change in your life but no one walked you through these issues when you were younger and I knew if we didn't tackle these right away life was going to get real hard for both of us.  It hasn't been easy, has it?  Some days...weeks...months!...have been really, REALLY hard for both of us. But honey, through God's grace alone, I've been committed to walking this through with you holding onto the tiniest measure of hope that we'd see light on the other side of it all.   Have we won the war? No, but we had some pretty solid victories this week!  FOUR TIMES this week there was an opportunity to respond to a request in a way that has always worked for you. FOUR TIMES I looked you straight in the eyes, asked you to trust me and to respond differently. While the wheels in your heart & mind were spinning, I prepared for the worst (which has been violent reactions on your part in the past)...and FOUR TIMES you took my hand and let me lead you into a different response! Oh honey...I can't tell you what incredible victories these were!! I gave you hugs, kisses, high fives and victory dances!  You did it!  You made the right choice!  You denied what you've always known to lean into a relationship that you have learned to trust, even if you don't understand.  This is ground well fought for in your heart!  I can't tell you how much hope this builds in my heart <3

In another massive victory for the week...you went into the kitchen and MADE SOUP. As in helped me dice, saute, mix, stir, boil and serve an actual meal!  WHO IS THIS CHILD?  It took you four months to even cross the threshold into the kitchen. And another several months after that before you would enter the kitchen and stand next to me while I was cooking or baking. I keep offering to have you help but up until a few weeks ago you have wanted NOTHING to do with making a meal. I had even told friends & family "she is going to need a skill, cuz Isaac is going to be making all their meals".  So this weekend, I offered again, not even waiting for your response before I started gathering what I needed,  "Mila, do you want to help me make some soup?" "Sure!"  (Wait, what?!)

Isaac took a photo to commemorate the glorious event and we declared your Vegan White Bean & Rosemary Soup DELICIOUS!

Isaac:

Since you started school I've been conscience of your school friends and if they've been aware of your specialness. I quietly ask your teachers and they've all quietly shook their heads "he is just one of the group. it's all good", but this year your friends have started to notice the differences so it was time to come to the class for a little chat about Down syndrome.  I read a book called "47 Strings" and we talked about how some of our friends with 47 strings/chromosomes do things a little bit slower and need a little more help, but they still can do everything your friends can do. Then Tony raised his hand...

"Um, I think my gramma might have Down syndrome"

*swallowing my laughter*  Or really??  Is she a little bit slower and need a little more help than you do?

"Yes! She MUST have Down syndrome!" 

So I'm not entirely sure we accomplished all I hoped to at the beginning of your class, but Tony's gramma may have some explaining to do!

Also...you fell asleep like this:

Auntie Ange & I had *just* been chatting about not knowing when the Last Time would be...the Last Time we would calm you or your cousins during a nightmare; the Last Time one of you would automatically give a kiss goodbye; the Last Time our baby boys would snuggle with their moms, but then you crawled up into my lap to watch a show just like you would when you were little and I melted. You are nearly 9 years old and the Last Times are going to stack up soon, I know that, but this wasn't one of them yet. My lap is your home and I don't care if you are 60 or 80 or 100 pounds I don't ever want there to be a Last Time of you finding your place for a snuggle.  *sniff sniff*

Me:

I've been reflecting a lot as we are nearing Mila's one year anniversary. I'm rereading all our weekly blog posts and flipping through pictures from our two trips (that still aren't sorted) trying to make heads or tails of the roller coaster that has been Mila's adoption. I remember the first week of visiting her at the orphanage was HARD. Next level hard. After our daily visits, walking the mile back to our air condition-less Albanian apartment crying every day, not knowing how in the world we were going to make it together. I had chosen this path out of obedience, but she had no say in her future and had only just been told of the adoption the week before. Her world was absolutely upside down and she was acting out like anyone would under that kind of stress; I understood it, but it was still ugly.  Because I my eyeballs couldn't see it and my brain new it was true I would repeat over and over again "This isn't the child I'll see a year from now. This isn't the child I'll see a year from now."  And nearly one year later, this is so very true. She has grown, matured, softened and learned to trust. And I've been humbled, refined, sifted and learned to trust.  I have said repeatedly over the years "if you want to have the Gospel absolutely explode into your life, walk the adoption road with an open heart."  Of this truth I still stand confidently in. I am now willing to offer this: "if you want to know the extent of your own sin and need for personal redemption in Christ...adopt/foster a teenager!"  Wow. There is no more effective way to have a spiritual mirror thrown in front of your face.  But the understanding of God's grace and glory is all the more vibrant through it all. Really hard? Yes.  Absolutely worth it? Definite Yes.