tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10377572767306412162024-02-18T23:40:25.869-08:00I Spy a FamilyA peek inside the life of an ordinary family that happens to be formed through adoptionKristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-73467896437055150912011-02-11T15:47:00.000-08:002011-02-11T15:50:52.797-08:00Don't Be AlarmedWe haven't fallen into a snow drift or stopped paying our com*cast bill...<br /><br />I've been really sick the past couple weeks and things have been a bit crazy, but I'm feeling better now and hopefully soon will return to my regular blogging/emailing/FBing self.<br /><br />Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to check in and/or send search parties to our house.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-5509001922619410342011-01-18T12:38:00.000-08:002011-01-18T17:24:06.727-08:00Poor BusterBuster is going to be 3 years old next week. In the last few months, we've seen huge changes in him. Among other things, he's potty trained, sleeps in a toddler bed, dresses & undresses himself & plays independently for much longer stretches of time. He's definitely completed the transition from "baby/toddler" to "kid". We're really proud of him.<br /><br />However, it's also brought up a whole new set of issues we're not quite sure how to handle.<br /><br />Buster is able to do lots of things now that Buddy can't and we suddenly find ourselves struggling with two different sets of rules and expectations for the boys. That's not the easiest thing to do when your kids are 15 months apart and you expect more of your youngest than you do of your oldest.<br /><br />I want Buster to know that it's a good thing that we trust him to be more independent and self-sufficient. I want him to feel proud when he gets dressed by himself in the morning and falls asleep in his own bed at night. I know he does feel that way when he accomplishes something new, but inevitably that moment comes when taking off his shoes and putting them away becomes less of a thrill and more of a chore. That's when things get tricky because he doesn't understand why I expect him to do something that I'm willing to help Buddy do.<br /><br />I truly believe that we'd be doing Buster a huge disservice if we lower our expectations and didn't encourage him to live up to his full potential, but I also know he's way too young to understand that. I've tried explaining to Buster a few times that sometimes it takes Buddy longer to learn something than it takes him and that's why I have to help Buddy with things he can do by himself, but Buster just doesn't get it. All he sees, for example, is Buddy getting to sleep in our bed while he's alone in his room. Even though I know we can't hold Buster back just because Buddy's skills are delayed, it still breaks my heart when Buster begs to sleep with me like Buddy does or stomps his feet in frustration because I don't always give him the same amount of hands-on help his brother gets.<br /><br />I don't want Buster to grow up feeling that we treated him unfairly, pushed him too hard or loved him any less than his brother. I make sure to celebrate his accomplishments, praise his good behavior and smother him with kisses & "I love yous". I know though, in Buster's almost 3 year old mind, our words don't outweigh our actions right now. I know he's felt slighted, frustrated and confused and I hate that. Unfortunately, I just don't think there's any way around it right now.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-9666700124332371622011-01-14T15:02:00.001-08:002011-01-14T16:23:25.045-08:00Odds & Ends<p>I'm not sure if there hasn't been much going on or if I'm just too tired for writing, but all I've manged to do this week is scrape together a post with a few random little stories:</p><ul><li>Last winter, Buster had pneumonia in November and then was sick every other week until July. This year, Buddy seems to be on the every other week sickness plan. Since Thanksgiving he's had the stomach flu, a high fever virus & an inner ear infection. The current infliction of the week is a nasty cold & cough. Buddy's limited understanding of germs and illness has led him to believe that in order to get rid of germs, he needs to give them to someone else. He keeps blowing air at me and asking if now I'm the sick one. At least I think that's why he's doing it...or it could just be his way of getting revenge because I refuse to answer him when he speaks in a baby voice.</li><li>As many children do, my boys love to be freed from the constrictive restraints of their clothing. Potty training has made me less inclined to put pants on them, so most days they spend running around the house in various states of undress. Other than worrying that one of them will decide to take their pants off in the middle of school, it doesn't really bother me. This is the only time in their lives they'll feel comfortable running around shirtless without thinking about what their stomachs look like, so why not make the most of it?</li><li>Buster just went through a big "Why?" phase. "Why is this a cat?", "Why do we need clocks?", "Why is rain wet?", <em>why, why, why, why, why</em>....Recently, the <em>whys</em> have tapered off. Just as I was about to let out a big sigh of relief, he moved onto a different phase. Now everything is "How do we make chairs?", "How do we make tvs?", "How do we make chickens?"...</li><li>I started something new this week - the afternoon bath. That post-nap, pre-dinner time of day is always our worst, especially in the winter when there's not many places to go. The bath is the perfect solution. It allows non-napper Buddy to sit quietly with a bucket and champion sleeper Buster to rambunctiously swim back and forth like the little energizer bunny he is. Yesterday they stayed in there for an hour and ten minutes and today they lasted nearly an hour. And here's the best part, I get to sit on the edge of the tub with my Nook. I spent the afternoon reading today!</li></ul>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-65313593739075266312011-01-06T16:01:00.000-08:002011-01-07T17:47:08.430-08:00On My SoapboxI love reading. From the moment my mom handed me her first edition <em>Nancy Drew</em> books, I was hooked. I love that reading a good story offers me the chance to escape into someone else's life, to see the world through their eyes. It doesn't matter if it's dark and unsettling or light and funny, a good story always teaches me something about the world and myself.<br /><br /><em>The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn</em> is a good story (and yes, I've actually read the book, not just the Cliff Notes).<br /><br />If you haven't heard, a publisher recently decided to print an <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2011/SHOWBIZ/01/04/new.huck.finn.ew/index.html">updated version </a>of the book with the racist and offensive language removed. I realize the <em>n</em> word is used a lot in that book - 219 times according to one of the articles I read. I know some parents and educators hear that number and are so disgusted by it or so afraid of it that their knee-jerk reaction is to decide its not a book that they want anywhere near kids. According to the <a href="http://www.newsouthbooks.com/pages/2011/01/04/a-word-about-the-newsouth-edition-of-mark-twains-tom-sawyer-and-huckleberry-finn/">publisher</a>, they hoped that by removing the <em>n</em> word, more schools would put the book back on their recommended reading lists.<br />I'm sure some people think this is a great compromise that will give more kids access to a classic piece of literature. Personally, I don't think the book should have been taken off those reading lists in the first place and this new, more PC version bothers me for many reasons.<br /><br />Number one, does sheltering kids from the language in this book actually accomplish anything? Does anyone believe that if they don't read it in a book or see it on tv, children are never going to hear derogatory terms or witness racism? Mark Twain did not create those words. Those words are in the book because they were part of his society...and are still part of ours. Removing them from the story and replacing them with kinder, gentler ones isn't going to change that.<br /><br />Number two, how does presenting a watered-down version of events benefit anyone? How can we expect kids to make sense of the past if we don't give them all the facts? Even when that past is harsh - actually, especially when it's harsh - don't we owe kids the chance to understand history so they don't make the same mistakes? The world wasn't perfect then and its not perfect now. I don't understand how hiding or minimizing old injustices does anything to help solve current ones.<br /><br />Number three, does anyone really believe that kids will assume offensive language is okay because they read it in a book? My preschoolers already know that just because someone else does something doesn't mean they should. Why do people believe that middle and high school aged kids aren't capable of understanding that characters in a story, even likable ones, say things they shouldn't? I think we need to have a little more faith in kids' intelligence.<br /><br />I understand the instinct to protect our children's innocence and also our desire to raise them to be the kind of people to whom race doesn't matter. But the reality is racism is part of our past and still part of our present. Sugarcoating history isn't going to change that. The only way to change it is to face the truth head on. We shouldn't ban this book or edit its content. Instead, I think we should embrace it in its original form and use it as a starting point for some very honest, real discussions.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-13432816059861153212011-01-03T07:38:00.000-08:002011-01-03T14:53:32.235-08:00A Decade Gone ByOver the last ten years, Chris & I have had some big moments. Each year seemed to bring with it a new, life-changing event:<br /><br />2001 - The year we graduated from college<br /><br />2002 - The year we got married<br /><br />2003 - The year we bought our first house & started trying to have a baby<br /><br />2004 - The year we spent doing fertility treatments<br /><br />2005 - The year I had a miscarriage<br /><br />2006 - The year we decided to adopt<br /><br />2007 - The year we adopted Buddy & became parents<br /><br />2008 - The year we adopted Buster & became a family of four<br /><br />2009 - The year we bought our second house<br /><br />2010 wasn't really "the year" of anything. For the first time in a decade, there wasn't one life altering event, either good or bad, that consumed me and defined the year. <br /><br />We've spent the last ten years working toward the life and the family we have now. Its wonderful, after a decade of change and turmoil, to realize we're finally where we want to be.<br /><br />For us, the last ten years have been defined by the big moments. I hope the next ten are defined by the small ones, the birthdays and vacations and other typical milestones of family life we've worked so hard to enjoy.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-77595834123723480242010-12-27T12:18:00.000-08:002010-12-27T15:35:44.544-08:00Our HolidayI really want to sit down and write a post or posts about all our Christmas activities and celebrations, but right now the fun and excitement of the last few weeks are just a blur. I'll admit I'm still exhausted from said fun and excitement and feeling a little twitchy over the tornado of toys that has gone through our house. So perhaps when I've had a chance to recover and organize, I will have more to say about the magic and craziness that was this holiday season.<br /><br /><br />Mostly what I hope I remember is that this is the Christmas where the boys both really "got it". The past few years, when they were babies and toddlers, I had fun dressing them up in Christmas pajamas and buying them gifts. I dragged them to see Santa and suffered through the consequences of keeping them up too late at too many holiday parties. I tried my best to engage them in decorating the tree, making cookies and unwrapping their presents, but always ended up doing 95% of it myself.<br /><br /><br />This year, for the first time, both kids really understood and enjoyed the entire season. They were thrilled to wake up every morning and find out what sort of silliness our elf, Jingle, had gotten himself into while we were sleeping and to whisper secrets for Santa to him at night before bed. They loved all the special ways we celebrated throughout the month with friends and family. They made it through two visits with Santa that didn't involve any tears. They had fun decorating our gingerbread house, baking cookies and watching <em>Frosty</em> and <em>The Grinch</em>. They learned the words to "Jingle Bells", "Rudolph", "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" and "Frosty the Snowman". They spent the drive home on Christmas Eve scanning the sky for Santa's sleigh and leaped out of bed at 5:30 am to see if he really came. They shrieked with delight and lit up with joy over surprises big and small.<br /><br />It was a Christmas where our house was filled with the magic of the season.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-16177105258513520842010-12-20T07:30:00.000-08:002010-12-20T11:16:44.636-08:00Every day's an AdventureI just held my first "In Case of Emergency, Dial 911" session with the boys.<br /><br />Every day, I start the morning by running car errands and every day, when we return home, I let Buddy out of the car first. Then I open the garage door for him and bring in my purse, coffee and any other items we purchased while we were out. After that, I go back to get Buster and Buddy stands in the hallway taking off his shoes and coat.<br /><br />Today, Buster asked me if he could go in first. In the last month or so, he has become much more cautious and self-sufficient, so we have been allowing him to have a bit more independence. He's very diligent about taking off his shoes and coat on the mat as soon as we get inside, so I didn't see any harm in letting him do that while I got Buddy out of his car seat. To be extra safe, I made sure to leave the door open, so I could see him from the garage during the 20 seconds or so it would take me to unbuckle Buddy and help him climb out of the car.<br /><br />Of course the first thing Buster did when I returned to the garage was to shut the door and lock the deadbolt. At first, I was just annoyed he hadn't listened when I told him to leave the door open. I finished getting Buddy unbuckled and then walked back to the door and told him to open it. He pulled on the door handle and said "I no know how to do it."<br /><br /><p>Hmmmm. Now what?</p><p>I still wasn't too concerned. I assumed he just needed a little reminder of how to undo what he had done seconds earlier. I told him he needed to unlock the deadbolt to which he replied "What is a deadbolt?". The next few minutes went something like this:</p><p>Me: See the door handle?</p><p>Buster: What door handle?</p><p>Me: The thing you pull to open the door.</p><p>Buster: This door?</p><p>Me: Yes, this door. See the handle?</p><p>Buster: Oh, yes.</p><p>(Buddy: I'm cold, I'm cold, I'm cold...)</p><p>Me: The deadbolt is the big lock above the door handle.</p><p>Buster: What big lock?</p><p>Me: The metal pole you can flip back and forth. The pole you just flipped when you closed the door.</p><p>(Buddy: I'm, cold, I'm cold, I'm cold...)</p><p>Buster: Oh, okay. </p><p>Me: Okay, good. Can you turn the pole back?</p><p>Buster: What pole? </p><p>Me: The deadbolt pole, above the door handle. </p><p>Buster: Oh okay. (pause) Mama, I can't reach it no more.</p><p>(Buddy: I'm cold, I"m cold, I'm cold...)</p><p>Me: Go into the bathroom and get your step stool, okay?</p><p>Buster: Okay! (feet running and then stool being dragged to the door) I getted my stool!<br /></p><p>Me: GREAT! Now stand on the stool and unlock the deadbolt.</p><p>Buster: What deadbolt?</p><p>****repeat entire above conversation****</p><p>After several minutes, it became clear that Buster couldn't figure out how to unlock the door. At this point, I started to panic a bit as I realized that with my purse sitting on the counter, I had no keys AND no phone, so in order to call my mom or Chris to bring over a set a keys, I would need to leave Buster inside the house alone for the several minutes it would take me to run down to the neighbor's house and use the phone. The more I thought about the sorts of problems Buster can get himself into when he's alone for several minutes, the more I realized I didn't feel comfortable w/that option.</p><p>So I'm standing in the garage, playing the part of the calm "this is nothing to worry about" mom, while frantically evaluating which items in our garage would be best for breaking a window and deciding that the best thing to do is to break a panel next to the front door and the reach through and unlock it. And because I am such a spaz, I started picturing myself slicing open my arm on a jagged piece of glass, collapsing in the snow and freezing to death while my helpless children sob over my body</p><p>I decided before I risked an early death I would make one last attempt to have Buster let us in the house. I told him to take his stool over to the front door and that I would meet him over there. Once we were all in place, I explained again how to unlock the deadbolt, which was much easier now that I could see Buster through the window and give him more precise instructions. Finally on the third attempt, he was able to unlock the door and we got in the house.</p><p>After my heart stopped racing, I decided it was time to move the house phones to locations where the kids can reach them and go over how to call for help. Knowing Buddy shares my tendency to imagine terrifying scenarios and Buster dreams of riding in an ambulance, I tried to keep my explanation as matter-of-fact as possible. We spent about 20 minutes pretending we needed help and each boy took several turns picking up the phone, turning it on and pretending to dial "9-1-1". I'm sure we'll need to go over it a few more times, since Buddy was too focused on all the potential disasters that could leave me unable to help them and all Buster could talk about was how exciting it would be for the police to come to see him. In the mean time, I think I will keep an extra house key in the garage and continue to exercise caution when carrying laundry down the stairs or using the carving knife.</p>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-4837917388722062402010-12-13T18:19:00.000-08:002010-12-13T18:55:00.742-08:00A Grinch Heart<em>"I was worrying Buster's heart was two sizes too small, but now I'm thinking it growed because he is much nicer on this day."</em><br /><em></em><br />Buddy & I were sick the entire week last week with a particularly nasty virus that has been going around; I can't remember the last time any of us were so sick for such a long period of time. Normally, I would send any non-infected children over to my mom or sister's to play, but since this virus was so awful, I didn't want to risk spreading our germs to anyone else. Unfortunately for Buster, that meant he was stuck home all week with two people who could do little else except lie on the couch and watch an endless loop of <em>Diego</em> episodes all day long. He was bored out of his mind and choose to express his displeasure by throwing puzzle pieces at the cats, climbing on the book shelves and communicating only via shrieks and whines.<br /><br />It was a long week.<br /><br />Luckily all 3 of us are back to normal today. Buddy & I are disease-free and the boys are back to being best buddies. Buster even shared his blanket with Buddy this afternoon, prompting Buddy's announcement to me that we no longer need to be concerned about the size of Buster's heart. I know my heart got the warm-fuzzies when Buddy finished talking to me, ran back to the playroom, threw his arms around Buster and said "You're my best brother ever!" as they fell to the floor in a giggling heap.<br /><br />Nothing like a week of high fevers to remind us that regular, ordinary days together are pretty awesome.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-90038262105239934062010-12-06T10:07:00.001-08:002010-12-06T10:10:29.647-08:00One of Those DaysThis pretty much sums up the kind of day I am having...<br /><br />Buster: MMMMAAAMMMAAA, emergency!<br /><br />Me: What is the emergency?<br /><br />Buster: I pee-peed on the floor.<br /><br />Me: Oh Buster! Why did you pee on the floor?!?<br /><br />Buster: Because it came out while I go poop in my underwear....don't worry Mama, I say sorry to Mickey already (as in the mickey on his underwear).Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-588230653570494902010-11-30T14:29:00.001-08:002010-11-30T15:44:34.053-08:00National Adoption Awareness Month - Week 4If Buddy had been identified as having special needs at the time of his referral, I'm not sure we would've adopted him. <br /><br />It makes me feel sick to my stomach to say that, but its the truth. Granted, his needs are not severe, but I'm not sure we would've been comfortable with even minor special needs. As first time parents, becoming a mom was overwhelming enough. I imagined the extra work and worry of parenting a child with special needs and I didn't think I'd be able to handle it. I imagined parents of such children were better than me - more patient, less prone to anxiety, better at seeing the glass half-full. And, if I'm being honest, I felt like we'd already struggled enough. The years trying to get pregnant, the fertility treatments, the miscarriage...it was our turn to be happy, not to commit ourselves to years of extra work, worry and heartbreak.<br /><br />Thank God none of Buddy's issues had been identified at the time of his referral. Thank God he hadn't been "labeled" as special needs.<br /><br />That label could've been the difference between Buddy becoming our child or another family's son. Far worse, that label could've been the difference between Buddy being adopted or becoming a waiting child, sent to live in an orphanage with a greatly diminished chance of ever joining a family. <br /><br />I can't imagine what that label could've done to Buddy's life. I can't imagine what it could've done to mine. <br /><br />By the time we arrived in Guatemala to bring Buddy home, it was obvious his development was not following the path of a "typical" child. I never would've walked away from him at that point; he been our son from the moment we'd accepted his referral 9 months earlier. But I won't lie and say we were instantly comfortable and confident we could handle the situation either. Those first few months I definitely had many "Why me?" and "I can't do this" moments. Truthfully, those feelings still surface from time to time. <br /><br />The difference is I know now that just because I struggle sometimes doesn't mean I can't be the mom Buddy needs me to be. Parents of children with special needs aren't perfect, they aren't saints. Even someone like me, who is impatient and easily frustrated and prone to pity parties, can do it. Not only do it, but enjoy it. <br /><br />Ordinary people can parent a child with special needs. Don't convince yourself you can't. Don't turn way from waiting children without really considering it as an option. I know that might sound like ridiculous advice coming from me, since I stumbled into this situation instead of choosing it. But if I had known then what I know now, I would've chosen it...should we ever decide to adopt again, the waiting child list will be the place we start.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-44795385985363990012010-11-23T12:32:00.000-08:002010-11-24T20:17:43.610-08:00TwoIts been two years since Chris & Buster boarded a plane and crossed an ocean together to get home.<br /><br />Two years since I stood in the terminal with butterflies in my stomach, anxiously anticipating the moment I'd finally get to hold my 10 month old son.<br /><br />Two years since Buddy knelt down and whispered "Hey brother" to the baby who for so long was only a picture on our refrigerator door.<br /><br />Two years since we became a family of four.<br /><br />Happy Family Day Buster - you have filled the last two years with joy and adventure.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-42661023610904808592010-11-18T08:42:00.000-08:002010-11-18T09:00:22.921-08:00A Picture of a PictureYesterday Buddy drew a picture of an airplane:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjodohiVuhXaQs33DH3lTBguLl-JmneO0_K-86nunWbC5fL3gkXAyjyi8PEo84AI6JDAXL0mK3ARgVnJ4M0zWRS2YQ_xwY-ETBNoW2pWnKzgMeNGNLpgQ4KSlh-NdNutUBwAUTOL872OG-N/s1600/November2010+003.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540931569939108866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjodohiVuhXaQs33DH3lTBguLl-JmneO0_K-86nunWbC5fL3gkXAyjyi8PEo84AI6JDAXL0mK3ARgVnJ4M0zWRS2YQ_xwY-ETBNoW2pWnKzgMeNGNLpgQ4KSlh-NdNutUBwAUTOL872OG-N/s400/November2010+003.JPG" /></a> I know, who takes a picture of her 4 year old's picture? Four year olds draw pictures all the time.<br /><br />That's true, 4 year olds - even 3 year olds - draw pictures all the time.<br /><br />But Buddy doesn't.<br /><br />In fact this is the first picture he's drawn that doesn't consist of a few half-hearted squiggly lines and shaky circles.<br /><br />It's a picture that's the result of hours of occupational therapy and hard work.<br /><br />Which makes it a picture worthy of a picture.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-32204946700578110792010-11-15T13:11:00.000-08:002010-11-16T14:16:06.048-08:00National Adoption Awareness Month - Week 3There comes a point during the application process when prospective adoptive parents must complete paperwork identifying what type of child they are open to adopting. I remember filling out this form during both our adoptions and each time feeling the full weight of the moment settle on my shoulders. It's one thing to know you want to adopt a fairly healthy infant, its another thing to look at a checklist of medical conditions and understand that your answers to these questions mean rejecting real, waiting children in need of a home.<br /><br />Filling out that form is a moment a lot of prospective parents dread. It feels wrong, for example, to actually check "no" when asked if you are open to adopting a child with fetal alcohol syndrome. It feels like you're saying these lives don't matter, that these children aren't "good enough". It's not an easy moment. However, it's an essential step in the process to ensure that children are placed with families that have the desire and capability to parent them.<br /><br />Because that's what adoption is about - the desire to parent a child.<br /><br />I'm not saying that the opportunity to help a waiting child is not a factor in many people's decision to adopt, but the bottom line is the choice to adopt has to stem from the desire to be a parent.<br /><br /><em>Adoption is not an act of charity.</em><br /><br />I think that's an important point to make this month. Adoption is wonderful, but it is not the solution to the orphan crisis. Even if it was, there are an estimated 143 million orphans in the world. Adoptions barely put a dent in that number. Plus, it does nothing to address the extreme poverty and cultural issues that make adoption necessary in the first place.<br /><br />Adoption is far from the only answer; its important to be aware of that. Just because you are not adopting or just because you are not adopting a child with special needs, doesn't mean you can't be part of the solution for those 143 million children. It doesn't mean you can't help end the poverty and societal pressures that leave so many families no other choice than to hand their children over to someone else.<br /><br />You can help someone like my friend Deanna. Deanna's daughter Ragen has down syndrome and she and her husband Rob have recently decided the best way to expand their family is by adopting <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/sponsorsader">Melanie</a>, another child with down syndrome. They are working with <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/">Reece's Rainbow</a>, an organization helping orphans with down syndrome and other serious special needs around the world. Consider contributing to Melanie's adoption fund or supporting other RR children and families.<br /><br />You can help by becoming a sponsor of <a href="http://www.eastern.or.kr/eastern/main/view.jsp?c_no=002004001">Eastern Social Welfare Society</a>, the Korean organization that coordinated Buster's foster care and adoption. Although ESWS's primary focus is adoption, they continue to expand their services to better assist those in need. This includes operating homes for disabled children, children unavailable for adoption and single mothers. They also provide financial support to students from low income families and to single mothers who choose to parent their children despite the intense social pressures they face in doing so.<br /><br /><p>You can help by supporting <a href="http://www.mayanfamilies.org/Home">Mayan Families</a>, a small organization providing services to people in one of Guatemala's poorest regions. In addition to meeting the community's immediate needs for food, shelter and medical care, a primary goal of the group is to provide long term solutions for families in need. Among other things, this program provides educational opportunities to adults as well as children and supplies other essentials, such as water filters & chickens, that families need to stay together and break the vicious cycle of poverty. </p><br />Reece's Rainbow, ESWS and Mayan Families are just 3 of countless organizations and individuals trying to make a difference. It's easy to say "someone should adopt them", but the reality is adoption will only be the answer for a small percentage of the 143 million orphans in need. In a month dedicated to raising awareness about adoption, I think its equally as important to acknowledge that it takes more than adoption to help those 143 million children and to find ways to save future children and families from the same fate.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-30826136280338240722010-11-10T07:42:00.000-08:002010-11-10T15:35:37.766-08:00National Adoption Awareness Month - Week 2It took us one year to decide to adopt after we went to our first agency-sponsored adoption meeting. I remember driving home from that meeting thinking "Adoption is a great option...for somebody else's family". It wasn't something that felt right for us.<br /><br />Part of that was coming to terms with infertility, but truthfully, it was mostly about fear.<br /><br />Fear that an adopted child would never feel like "mine".<br /><br />Fear that we'd end up a horror story on the news, our child ripped from our arms and returned to a birth parent years after our adoption was complete.<br /><br />Fear that I'd view adoption as a consolation prize and my child would know it.<br /><br />Fear that my child would end up resenting me because I was not the "real parent".<br /><br />Fear that our child would carry physical and emotional scars from orphanage or foster care that we wouldn't be able to handle.<br /><br />Fear that adoption would mark us as different, that we'd never fit in with "normal" families.<br /><br />I know adoption isn't for everyone, but if fear is your motivation for dismissing it without much consideration, look again. Read adoption websites and blogs, research agencies and programs, talk to other parents. If I haven't done that, I would've missed out on the chance to parent the two people I love most in this world.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-88931480123862997962010-11-05T17:10:00.000-07:002010-11-05T18:33:57.712-07:00I Get It NowWhen Buddy first learned to give kisses, he would frequently surprise his recipient with a wet smooch, leaning in toward the receiver with lips closed and then opening them as soon as his lips touched yours. It was equal parts adorable and disgusting.<br /><br />I can't remember when he stopped doing that, but he did. Never again will I be on the receiving end of one of baby Buddy's wet kisses.<br /><br />I started thinking today, as Buster sat next to me, absently petting my leg as he frequently does, that one day that too will end.<br /><br />Its inconceivable to me right now, when the presence of a toddler on my hip or gripping my hand is so commonplace, that the sheer physical closeness I share with the boys won't always be.<br /><br />Of course, even as adults, there will be hugs and kisses and pats on the back, but just like Buddy's baby kisses, there will be so many other moments that will come to an end. I wonder, will it happen abruptly, a sudden refusal to sit on my lap that knocks the wind out of me? Or will it be gradual, morphing ever so slightly over such a long stretch of time that I don't notice until it's gone?<br /><br />When will be the last time I feel the weight of a sleepy child's head on my shoulder? When will I stop holding their hands, kissing their boo-boos and tickling their bellies?<br /><br />And years from now, long after they've left childhood behind, will I still feel the urge to pull them onto my lap or carelessly stroke their heads?<br /><br />Suddenly, I understand why my parents still remind me to drive carefully, still ask me to "call when you get there!", still rush to my side when I struggle. <br /><br />I'll try to stop rolling my eyes at them. I get it now.<br /><br />I once sat on their laps too.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-84144309995403465732010-11-05T16:12:00.001-07:002010-11-05T16:20:55.252-07:00I Wish There was a Button for ThatI wish there was a "I'm being ironic/sarcastic" button on blogger.<br /><br />Just in case it wasn't clear, I meant my last post in an ironic, sarcastic "Isn't it funny how huge milestones you look forward to just shift the type of work parents need to do?" way. I absolutely did not mean it in an "OMG, its so annoying that my kids still require any effort from me at all" kind of way.<br /><br />So you know, just in case you were thinking it, it's not true...I'm not that whiny mom who complains about everything including the nerve of her children for, you know, reaching age-appropriate milestones.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-16363409802988798792010-11-03T14:02:00.000-07:002010-11-05T12:00:37.693-07:00DelusionsI'm very proud to announce that this week we've managed to achieve two major milestones...<br /><br />In exchange for 1 M&M (2 if he pulls his own pants up and down), Buster has traded in his Buzz Lightyear pull-ups for some big boy Mickey Mouse undies, making our family completely diaper-free.<br /><br />We've also had a major improvement in our sleep situation, skipping Buddy's afternoon nap in favor of an earlier bedtime and a huge decrease in the amount of time it takes him to fall asleep.<br /><br />There are so many things I love about parenting babies and toddlers, but it's definitely a very labor-intensive job. I'll admit that even though I shed a few tears when I packed up our bottles or when I sent the boys to preschool, I still looked forward to what I envisioned would be the "easier" days of being baby & toddler free. I mentioned this to my uncle once recently and his response was "It never really gets easier". At the time I laughed, but I'm starting to think he wasn't actually kidding.<br /><br />Yes, it is nice to have some one-on-one time w/Buddy. We haven't had that since we brought Buster home 2 years ago. It's also great that we have time to do preschool workbooks and practice letter sounds and play board games Buster doesn't understand yet. And that 7:00 pm bedtime is A.W.E.S.O.M.E. But, frankly, 12 uninterrupted hours of parenting, especially when it involves an afternoon w/a hard-to-please 4 year old who is still adjusting to his new sleep schedule, is H.A.R.D. <br /><br />Speaking of hard, do you know how much work it is making sure 2 preschoolers keep their underwear dry all day? Yes, its great not to buy diapers or to carry them with me everywhere I go. But, I still need my diaper bag to carry extra sets of underwear and clothes for the accidents that happen in the early months of wearing underwear (or is it years???). Plus, now the most important factor in everything we do is "Will there be a bathroom there?".<br /><br />So while I'm so proud of the boys' recent accomplishments, it's a little bit of a let-down too. Maybe my uncle was telling the truth, maybe it never get easier. I'm not sure I'm ready to accept that...I'm sure once Buster starts kindergarten and both boys are in school all day, my mom-work will become more like a part-time job and less of an all-consuming commitment....right?Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-43157501212465900672010-11-01T14:39:00.000-07:002010-11-01T15:14:26.219-07:00National Adoption Awareness Month - Week 1November is National Adoption Awareness month, something I usually remember on about November 29th and then fail to recognize in any way before the month is over. This year, I actually made a point of noting this on my calendar in October, in the hopes that I could prepare in advance and write an adoption-related post every Monday in November.<br /><br />This week, I wanted to write about the conflicted feelings I have that the greatest blessing of my life, being parent, is the direct result of some very harsh realities of the world in which we live. I don't often struggle with words, but on this topic, I can't seem to get it right and have several half-written drafts sitting unfinished.<br /><br />Luckily for me, <a href="http://daily-dose-of-mama.blogspot.com/">Daily Dose of Mama</a> wrote <a href="http://daily-dose-of-mama.blogspot.com/2010/09/reality-and-my-reality.html">this post </a>awhile back and managed to express with amazing clarity the very thoughts I've been struggling to define. So today I will refer you to her words because when it comes to this complex issue I can't seem to find mine.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-25263953226405357612010-10-25T07:48:00.000-07:002010-10-25T10:02:14.326-07:00Ordinary TimesLately, when it comes to our family, I've been feeling a deep sense of awe. The day-to-day "wake up-make breakfast-run errands-nap-play-cook dinner-read books-go to bed" <em>normalness</em> of it all.<br /><br />I'll be singing <em>The Wheels on the Bus</em> in the car or sweeping crumbs off the kitchen floor and I'll catch myself thinking "Wow, I can't believe this is my life".<br /><br />We always knew we wanted a family. We talked about it, dreamed about it for years. We couldn't wait to have a house full of toys, kids chasing each other down the halls. Couldn't wait for stories before bed and pajamas with little feet.<br /><br />Then we weren't sure we'd ever have it. Extra bedrooms went unused, the house was quiet. There was no need for gates on the stairs, covers on the outlets or locks on the cabinet doors. Everything felt empty and incomplete.<br /><br /><br />I don't necessarily think that infertility made me a better mom. I still get frustrated and have bad days and wish I could sleep in on Saturday mornings. What I do think is that I recognize how extraordinary it is to just be an ordinary family.<br /><br />After 3 years, it's no longer surreal to wipe booger noses, spend afternoons in the park or hear someone call me "mom". What's amazing to me is how ordinary it feels...and that's pretty incredible.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-43041510065561115422010-10-20T12:18:00.000-07:002010-10-20T13:42:15.470-07:00Survival EssentialsOne of the many reality shows Chris & I are loyal viewers of is this show on the Discovery channel called <a href="http://dsc.discovery.com/tv/man-woman-wild/">Man, Woman, Wild</a>. It follows an ex-special forces op and his journalist wife through various survival situations, like being lost in the jungle or stranded while snowmobiling. In addition to guessing how many more of these scenarios these two can go through before one of them decides to abandon the other in the wilderness, we've learned several fire starting methods (though Chris & I have both decided that should we ever become the outdoorsy types, we'll simply carry matches).<br /><br />In case you have something better to do on Friday nights and haven't seen the show, I will tell you that having fire is the most important element of survival, providing clean drinking water, food, warmth and protection for dangerous predators. Yet starting a fire is not easy. You need to gather just the right materials, find a way to create enough friction to make a spark, blow on that spark to help it grow and then slowly add twigs and sticks and finally branches. All these steps must be done carefully, any misstep - damp wood, not providing enough oxygen, dumping too many sticks on at once - and your fire will go out and you have to start all over again. Every week, even though he's done it many times before, its fire-starting that stresses Mykel out; he knows its crucial to their survival.<br /><br />I understand how he feels. While I've never used bamboo branches and my shoe laces to start a fire, I can completely relate to the deliberate care and caution that goes into protecting something so essential to your well-being and precarious in nature. <br /><br />Buddy has made his first friend at school, a little boy named H.<br /><br />Buddy first announced this friendship to me last week, but I wasn't sure exactly what to make of it. Buddy still does not talk to any of the other children and only speaks to the teachers when they initiate conversation, so I found his announcement a little hard to believe. I thought maybe this H was just a boy he admired b/c he had light-up sneakers or something. I mean, how do you make a friend without talking? Apparently, talking is overrated because in the drop-off lane on Monday, H was in the car in front of us and he waited outside for Buddy to get out of the car, smiling and jumping up and down as they headed into class together. I asked the teacher handling drop-off about them and she confirmed they had recently developed a friendship, working on projects together, sitting side-by-side at lunch and hanging out during recess. Apparently, smiles and gestures are the perfect compliment to H's constant talking.<br /><br />I had to restrain myself from running up to H after school and pulling him into a bear hug, from calling his mom and inviting H on vacation with us this February. That would definitely be adding too many twigs to the fire. Yet, I hope this new spark of friendship gets the oxygen it needs to grow, that H recognizes the fun, sweet boy sitting beside him and sticks it out until Buddy is willing to share more than just a smile. <br /><br />Friendship, like fire, is essential to survival. I'm so excited Buddy has found that first spark of friendship. I hope it will continue to grow into something substantial enough ease his fear of being away from home, to give him confidence to embrace new experiences and to protect him from the sometimes cruel world of being a child.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-30655645456008667782010-10-11T07:30:00.000-07:002010-10-11T08:47:31.803-07:00Inevitable Post of an Adoptive MomAsk any adoptive family and you'll find it can happen anywhere. Most recently, it happened to us during one of our frequent trips to a nearby superstore. A new cashier was working the register, one we hadn't met before and after idly chatting while she rang up our groceries, she turned to the boys and said:<br /><br /><em>"Well, either Mommy's been busy with lots of boyfriends or you two are adopted."</em><br /><br />Obviously, adopted or not, making a joke to a 2 year old and a 3 year old regarding their mother's potential bedroom activities is clearly inappropriate. It is also 1 of only 3 truly offensive comments I have heard regarding our family in the 3 years since we adopted Buddy. However, it got me thinking, once again, about my stance on strangers commenting on and/or asking questions about how we became a family.<br /><br />I <strong>love</strong> talking about my family and sharing our adoption stories - I mean, obviously I do, I've devoted an entire blog to it. And I understand that 99% of the people who approach us are well-meaning people who are curious about our situation or just trying to be friendly. They may phrase questions in ways I wish they wouldn't (using terms such as "real" mom) or ask questions I feel are too personal (how much did it cost? why couldn't the birth mom parent?), but I know these aren't the words of mean-spirited people attempting to offend us. They are simply poorly-worded or unintentionally invasive statements from people who aren't as familiar with adoption as we are. Even the cashier's comment, though wildly inappropriate, was a clumsy attempt to get to know us. <br /><br />Knowing that the vast majority of commenters are well-intentioned, I'm happy to talk about our family if you approach me when I'm alone or my kids are out of ear shot. I may gently correct a person's terminology or politely deflect questions about topics I feel are private, but for the most part I'm happy to have a conversation about our experience.<br /><br />The problem I have is when people approach me in front of my kids. I understand these are the types of situations my children need to be prepared to face. I understand it's a good opportunity for me to model appropriate responses to these questions and for my children to hear me discuss with pride how they joined our family. I also understand that as the parent of internationally adopted children, I signed up for this - I knew we'd look different from everybody else, I knew we'd face curiosity and occasionally racism. I knew this and willingly agreed to it...but my kids did not. <br /><br />For that reason, it does bother me when strangers in the park or the grocery store feel the need to make comments or ask questions while the kids and I are just trying to go about our day. Especially now that they are older and understand that people are identifying us as "different" from everybody else. It's sad when a moment on the swings ends with Buddy asking me why someone thought Buster wasn't his "real brother" or Buster needs to ask "Why that silly lady think you not my mama?". I understand we knowingly brought them into a situation where they'd be labeled different or unique and that these are the types of issues we need to prepare them to face all their lives...but I still wish, for their sake, they could just be kids in the park, no need to feel different than anybody else.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-39294787513482568182010-10-04T14:59:00.000-07:002010-10-05T16:37:58.440-07:00I WishMy bloggy friend <a href="http://wysefisher.blogspot.com/">Tiffany</a> recently made a <a href="http://wysefisher.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-wish.html">list</a> for her students of things she wished she had done differently in high school and asked others if they'd make their own lists for her to share. Since I love talking about myself in list form, I mean supporting education, I decided to make my own:<br /><br />I wish I would have taken four years of Spanish, instead of just the required two.<br /><br />I wish I hadn't been "the other woman" and then expected the guy to treat me any better.<br /><br />I wish I would have appreciated how special it was to eat dinner with my family every night and had lingered at the table longer.<br /><br />I wish it hadn't taken me an entire year to realize how awesome K was - she's my best friend to this day.<br /><br />I wish I had been brave enough to run for Student Council.<br /><br />I wish I hadn't experimented with bangs, owned so many flannel shirts or worn Doc Martins.<br /><br />I wish I would have realized a size 6 is not fat and that while my skinnier friends could boast a smaller dress size, I was the one who could fill out a bikini.<br /><br />I wish I would have spent less time fighting with my sisters over whose turn it was to talk on the phone and more time talking to them.<br /><br />I wish I hadn't worn that awful dress to senior prom - white is definitely not my color.<br /><br />I wish I had spent less time trying to pad my college resume and more time participating in extra-curriculars I actually enjoyed.<br /><br />I wish I had been less judgemental and had been able to see shades of gray.<br /><br />I wish I had gotten to know myself, instead of trying to be the person I thought other people wanted me to be.<br /><br />**************<br />Well, there you have it. To summarize, I wish I had spent less time being an insecure, self-involved teenager with suspect fashion choices. Make your own list and send it to Tiffany - its very therapeutic!Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-24278233303558699802010-10-04T12:55:00.000-07:002010-10-04T13:59:52.446-07:00The ReasonA question I get from time to time and one that has been coming up more frequently is some variation of this:<br /><br /><em>Did Buddy's adoption cause his sensory & emotional issues?</em><br /><em></em><br />Some people ask it in an accusatory way, a way of hinting that by choosing to adopt we have inflicted harm on our children.<br /><br />Some people reverse it, assuming that his minor issues are the reason his birth mom chose not to parent him.<br /><br />Then there's the ones who say it sympathetically, implying that because he is adopted, Chris & I aren't to blame for any problems he faces....because any issues he has must be the result of what they assume to be a birth mom's poor choices/ a foster mom who spoiled him/spending 9 months in country not as wealthy as ours.<br /><br />Here's the thing - I really, truly appreciate that people in our lives are trying to understand the types of issues we are facing with Buddy. I'm glad they are asking questions and finding out what they can do to help. Its wonderful to know that so many people care about us and want to support our family. So I don't want this post to make it seem that I resent in any way people's questions or attempts to reach out to us b/c that is so not the case. In fact, I've started this post many times, only to hit delete, because I don't want to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">embarrass</span> anyone or hurt well-meaning people's feelings.<br /><br />But I think its important to say, in no uncertain terms:<br /><br /><em>Buddy was not placed for adoption because he was "damaged" and being adopted did not cause his developmental, sensory and emotional issues.</em><br /><br />That's not to say that there aren't attachment issues related to adoption or that children do not experience a grieving period or that adoption has absolutely no impact on a child's life. What I'm saying is that Buddy's needs do not exist simply because he was adopted. And I don't want Buddy or anyone else believing that to be true.<br /><br />The truth is, we don't know "the reason" for the struggles Buddy faces. As far as I know, there's not one definitive answer as to what makes a person brave or jealous or shy...or in Buddy's case, anxious and suffering from sensory <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">integration</span> issues. What we do know is that Buddy had feeding and sleep issues the entire time he was in Guatemala, before he was adopted. We also know that Buddy's birth mom made an adoption plan long before he was born, not because of any of his specific characteristics. Yes, I think its reasonable to assume that being adopted at 9 months of age intensified some of his security and anxiety issues. However, not all adopted children have these problems. Plus, we've met many children just like Buddy who aren't adopted, who were born in the US, whose mothers took prenatal vitamins and received excellent medical care and made sure their babies had tummy time each day and did all the other "right" things. <br /><br />So no, I don't think adoption is "the reason" Buddy has some special needs. I don't know what the reason is. I don't even know if there is one specific reason or just a whole bunch of little reasons. I've sort of realized the "Why did this happen to my son?" is much less important then the "How do I help Buddy be the best Buddy he can be?". And while I understand the need people have to try to identify the "whys", I just want to make it clear that the list does not begin and end with adoption.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-3733203370586139292010-09-28T07:52:00.000-07:002010-09-28T12:07:44.486-07:00The ConversationThirteen years ago*, Chris & I met at a party.<br /><br />We were both 18, just a few weeks into our first year of college. The party was one of those over-crowded, noisy, sweaty dorm parties thrown by freshman who don't know any better. It was there, over random concoctions involving Peppermint Schn*pps for the girls and cheap beer for the guys, that we had our first conversation.<br /><br />I can't remember everything that we talked about. I'm sure we covered all the typical "Where you from? What's your major?" questions before moving on to more important topics, like how optimistic we were about the football team's new coach (Bob Davie, an absolute disaster) and how cool it was that Chris's friends were able to sneak <em>a</em> <em>whole keg</em> into their room (by senior year they'd moved to an apartment and acquired a keg-a-rator, strobe lights and a fog machine).<br /><br />At the end of the night, moments after <em>Brown-Eyed Girl</em> came on and I shrieked and forced Chris to dance with me while I belted out the lyrics, he kissed me. I quickly told him I had a boyfriend (fine, I may have kissed him back for a minute or two first). He walked me home anyway and boyfriend or not, from that night on, he was the first person I wanted to talk to when I screwed up yet another chem lab or heard a new song on the radio.<br /><br />We didn't officially start dating for another two months. A lot happened during that time.<br /><br />The crisp beauty of fall became the dreary gray of winter.<br /><br />My high school boyfriend and I self-destructed.<br /><br />The football team completed the first of five mediocre seasons under Bob Davie.<br /><br />And Chris & I, with student center hot chocolates in hand, spent night after night walking around campus, building on the conversation we had started that first night. <br /><br />I often wonder what the 18 year old versions of ourselves would think of who we are today; the pre-med student and the history major who became the stay-at-home mom and the businessman. I like to think they'd be pleased. We may have swapped out the hot chocolates for Starbucks and we may be frequently interrupted by the two children we are pulling in the wagon behind us, but that conversation we began 13 years ago ,with Van Morrison blaring in the background, is still going strong.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">*Technically, it was 13 years and 8 days ago, I've been a lazy blogger this week.</span>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037757276730641216.post-42290247224454515072010-09-22T13:17:00.000-07:002010-09-22T14:27:24.662-07:00Bright SpotIts easy for me to get caught up in bad days like <a href="http://ispyafamily.blogspot.com/2010/07/from-moments-i-want-to-remember.html">this</a> one and most recently <a href="http://ispyafamily.blogspot.com/2010/09/pity-party.html">this</a>.<br /><br />It's easy for me to get discouraged and frustrated, to focus on the parts of the day that go poorly and test my patience.<br /><br />It's easy for me write in detail all the things that aren't going well...how the kids have been sick since Sunday....how its been 11 days since Buddy slept through the night....how the only time the boys aren't fighting is when they are staring at the tv.<br /><br />Instead, I'm going to focus on the cookies we made...how on Monday, when everyone including Chris was home sick, I gathered everybody in the kitchen to make cookies from scratch instead of moping on the couch all day. How the boys waiting patiently for their turn to pour ingredients into the bowl. How they laughed when I enlisted them to be chocolate chip taste testers before we poured the whole bag into the bowl. How Buster inhaled the spoonful of cookie dough I gave him in one mouthful, while Buddy licked it slowly, savoring every bite. How they sat calmly on stools at the counter waiting for the cookies to come out of the oven. How carefully they ate their warm-from-the-oven cookies off my "fancy" dessert plates usually designated "For Adults Only". How for those 25 minutes, no one whined or cried or hit his brother. How for that short moment in time, we had so much fun we could have been filming a freaking N*stle T*ll House Cookie commercial.<br /><br />Things haven't been easy, but there have been bright spots. That, along with homemade cookies, is enough.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06368344688034538089noreply@blogger.com14