I have new posts on http://juliebarclay.wordpress.com/   Come on over and join me!!

New blog site!!

I am continuing my writing on WordPress!  Please go to http://juliebarclay.wordpress.com to continue the journey of Noah and the rest of the family!
Thanks,
Julie

Parenting ala Sherwood Schwartz

My love affair with Gilligan's Island began back in the late 60's.  I don't remember too many episodes that aired on prime time, except the one where the castaways thought their island was haunted.  I remember hiding behind the couch for the entire episode,  just barely peaking over the top during the exact toothpaste commercials that aired the week before.  When I was a little older, I would unwind from exhausting days at Lincoln Elementary School by watching Gilligan on KTVU.  By the time I was in college I could nail Gilligan's Island trivia.  I was the Go-to-Gilligan girl during Trivia Night at the local pub.  Even today I can watch the first seconds of the show and explain the entire episode.  Little did I know while watching those 98 episodes again and again and again (2156 minutes...36 hours...multiplied by who knows how many times I have caught the show on re-runs) that Gilligan's Island would be the silent partner in my parenting of Noah.  Okay, I'll say it right here...Gilligan may not have ever got the castaways off the island but he sure as heck rescued me!

Parenting Noah these past almost four years has been an adventure.  And I don't mean adventure as in the happy-go-lucky theme park adventure.  Our family has travelled a long winding road covered with pot holes, fallen branches, and road kill.  Up to a year ago I was on the brink of pulling the mini van over, jumping out of the drivers seat and storming back in the direction I came from with my hands waving in the air yelling, "I GIVE UP!" But then, something happened.  Netflix.  Netlix and Gilligan's Island.

Jeff and I started watching Gilligan's Island with Sam and Noah about a year ago to help them wind down that hour before bedtime.  We began with episode one and each night we would checked off two episodes in our quest to watch all 98.

Always the inquisitive one, Noah asked that first night, "What's this show about?"

Smiling, I responded as I was confident I would never have the chance to voice the synopsis of Gilligan's Island to such innocent ears again.  Holding back on my hearty-har-har singing I began to speak with dramatic animation,  "Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, A tale of a fateful trip that started from this tropic port, aboard this tiny ship.   The mate was a might sailing man, the skipper brave and sure.  Five passengers set sail that day on a three hour tour.  The weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed.  If not for the courage of the fearless crew the Minnow would be lost...the Minnow would be lost.  The ship set ground on the shore of this uncharted desert isle with Gilligan, the Skipper too, the millionaire and his wife, the movie star, the professor and Mary Ann. Here on Gilligan's Isle."

Noah grinned at me with a wide open smile.  Yep, I had him at 'Just sit right back'.

So we started watching Gilligan's Island and as we did I realized how extremely frustrated I got with Gilligan for messing everything up. Every. Single. Episode!!  I don't know if it was my hyper-mothering-I'm annoyed with you- radar or what, but Gilligan just really started to bug the heck out of me...big time! I would pull my hair and yell at the tv.  Then I noticed when Noah would do things that got him in trouble I would have the same reaction!   I would start to pull my hair and...yell.  When I would return to the TV to watch another episode I started to witness the unconditional love the castaways had for each other.  Even though Gilligan messed up over 90 rescue attempts, they continued to embrace him in their island family.  Everything he did, even though he messed up, he did to be helpful.  He was never mean spirited.  Or cruel.  He did what he did for his people because I know he wanted off that island as much as Ginger or Mary Ann or the Professor did.

And then, like a ton of coconuts, it hit.  I am raising my very own Gilligan.  He washed the car with a bucket of suds and pebbles because he wanted to surprise me with a clean car.  He put a hard boiled egg in the microwave because he wanted to find a more efficient way to reheat and peel hard boiled eggs.  He wanted to help with laundry and added "a lot" of soap to make things "super clean" and didn't know it would flood the room and burn up the motor.  There are at least 98 more episodes of Noah's troubles and then some!  Now, whenever he does something that tries my patience I silently sing the Gilligan's Island theme song before I react.

Awhile back I shared my thoughts with my husband Jeff.  Then I asked him, "With Gilligan as our son...are we ever going to get off this island, Skipper?"

He laughed and smiled, "No Mary Ann, I'm afraid we're stuck on this island for the long haul."

I wrote this essay several years ago for a Korean Adoptions newsletter, soon after Sam came home from Korea. It is dedicated to my dad...a veteran and my hero.              

          

Home of the Free because of the Brave

           To define patriotism is to describe a person’s love of their country and their willingness to sacrifice for it.   Koreans and Americans are quite similar in their allegiance to their motherland.  Korea has a long history of turmoil and oppression and amazingly during each period of unrest they have risen above adversity and become stronger.   Koreans and Americans have a lot in common but one of the most profound commonalities is their patriotism.              

            As in America, Korea is rich in celebrations of significant days in history that made Korea the phenomenal country it is today.  This summer, while we celebrate our independence, Koreans will set aside a day for citizens to remember those who died for their country, their Memorial Day which falls on June 6.   They will celebrate Constitution Day on July 17 , the anniversary of the 1948 proclamation of the Constitution of the Republic of Korea.  Finally, Liberation Day will be celebrated on August 15, recognizing the official surrender of Japan to Allied forces in 1945 ending the 35 year colonization of Korea by Japan.  Korean’s will celebrate their patriotism this summer.

            I look at my adopted son Sam and I am reminded of my dad.  Not in the obvious physical sense but in the strong connection the two have to Korea.   In 1949 my dad was drafted into the army and soon, after the Korean War broke out, on a ship setting sail for Incheon, Korea.    He served two tours of duty as a forward air controller during the Korean War.  In the two years he was in Korea he experienced severe frostbite during the battle of the Chosin Reservoir, was the sole survivor of his unit in a fierce battle that left him battered and alone for days behind enemy lines, and cautiously walked across a shattered bridge spanning the Han river to witness the complete and absolute destruction of Seoul.                         

            On June 10, 2002...forty nine years to the day my dad departed from Korea for the last time I boarded a plane for Incheon, Korea to bring home his grandson, Sam.  I expected the trip to be emotional...I was bringing home our baby...but I never expected the wave of emotions that consumed me as I stood on the same soil my father stood 49 years earlier fighting for the independence of the Korean citizens.  There is a  Korean War memorial wall at the War Memorial Museum in Seoul.  Guests are invited to sign the wall.  In the bottom right corner I inscribed, “Neil J. Murphy 1950-1952”.  It is the only physical proof within the borders of Korea of my dad’s service; however, Sam is living proof that my dad and thousands of other Korean War Vets did not fight in vain. 

            My dad’s story is just one of thousands of stories of the Korean War.  As each page of the calendar turns the heroes who tell these bold stories are passing and their stories are silenced.   An inscription on the Korean War Veteran’s Memorial in Washington D.C. summarizes the reason why these veteran’s are called heroes.

                                          “Our Nation Honors Her Sons and Daughters

                                                        Who Answered The  Call

                                                            To Defend A Country

                                                               They Never Knew

                                                      And A People They Never Met.”

 

            Have you ever thought for a moment about the long road it took for your adopted child to be placed in you arms?  I am not talking about the piles of papers and running around in the adoption process.  I am talking about the long history of adoption in Korea starting with Harry Holt’s incredible journey to adopt 8 orphans of the Korean War in 1954.   The children we embrace today are a result of a conflict that happened over fifty years ago.  The freedom my dad and thousands of other veterans from around the world fought five decades ago is the same freedom that has allowed our families to be formed through Korean adoption today.  It is so very important for adoptive parents to understand the history of adoption in Korea.   Our children are with us today because of a war fought long ago.   Our adopted children are the living legacies of the Korean War Veterans. 

            When we adopt we are quick to thank the agency, the social workers, the mailman, even the lady behind the FedEx counter, but in your lifetime have you ever looked a Korean War Veteran in the eye and said “Thank You.”  Maybe now is the time, before it is too late.   This summer, if you are attending a patriotic event on or around the Fourth of July and you cross paths with a veteran of the Korean War shake his hand and say thank you. Let him know that he did not fight in vain.  Introduce your son or daughter to him. Without his patriotism you would not have the child you love so dear today.  Koreans and Americans fought side by side many years ago in a war that by some is defined as the “The Forgotten War”.  As parents it is our duty not to forget the sacrifices made during this conflict.  Our children are descendants of a proud and honorable nation and by fate have been adopted into an equally proud and honorable nation.     

            My dad never had the chance to hold Sam.  Five days after I told him we were adopting from Korea he died of lung cancer.  Ironically, one year later to the day I last spoke to my dad, a baby boy was born in a hospital in Seoul,  South Korea.  A baby boy who will grow up knowing his Papa was a hero and the true definition of a patriot.

A Granite Question Mark

One suggestion I would have for any adoption agency advocating for an older child's adoption would be to issue to the adoptive parents a statue of a granite question mark, a very sharp chisel, and a sturdy mallet.   On the day the statue is delivered...before your new child is home... that piece of rock is polished, smooth, and just about as perfect as perfect can be. That of course is also our ideal of who our future child will be... polished and just about as perfect as perfect can be.  

So, once your child arrives you are allowed one powerful blow to the chisel on the granite for every unanswered question reveled in regards to your child's history.  One blow...only one...regardless of how big or how infinitesimal that information is.  Because, really, what good would taking twenty whacks to a piece of granite really accomplish or change?   At first you'll be taking two, three, even ten whacks a day because that's just how it is the first several months. Their language is so primitive the only thing you will learn are his likes and dislikes, not a whole lot more.  

Then things slow down and there may be days you won't even have the need to pick up the hammer.  At this point the statue is looking a little dinged up, but still maintaining its integrity.  Soon your child will begin to express himself through our spoken tongue.  It isn't perfect but it is somewhat understandable.  The hammer is once again in hand several times a day as memories surface and are spoken.  Some are wonderful...some not so much.  Chisel away.  One blow...regardless of how big or how infinitesimal that memory is.   Because, really, what good would taking twenty whacks to a piece of granite really accomplish or change?

Then things slow down again and the hammer collects a fine layer of dust.  The statue is pushed aside, not so much a focal point anymore in your life or the life of the child.  You are cruising through this parenting thing.  You've got it down.  Nothing but smoo.... wait!  More memories surface.  Significant memories that alter your perspective of what is just and what is unjust in an innocent child's life.  You pull out the statue, grasp the chisel, clutch your hammer, and pull your arm back so far that the force of inertia when the hammer meets the chisel would break (you would think)  the hardest of surfaces.  Once the two meet a small ding the size of all the others appears.  Regardless of how much force you landed on the statue, the damage was no more different in size than the one you landed two years ago when you found out he was left handed.  You look at your statue...your question mark.  It is damaged from reveled history.  But for as much damage as has been inflicted on that question mark statue there are still parts that are polished, smooth, and just about as perfect as perfect can be...just like your adopted child.

History has damaged many of our children...some more than others.   But the bottom line is that regardless of how many dings and divots history has created in our child, it is up to us as adoptive parents to find the polished, smooth, and just about as perfect as perfect can be in our child.  It is our right, our duty, and our honor.

When Do We Dig Her Hole

Every day since Noah has arrived in our family, life lessons have been presented to him. Some of these lessons are more subtle than others. This past week my sister-in-law passed away after a long battle with cancer. Her death was Noah's first experience with death since joining our family 18 months ago. I was very cautious entering into the conversation with Noah regarding death, as I had no idea what type of memories this aunt's passing might ignite. For the most part of the day of her funeral I carefully watched Noah and his reaction to her death.

Fran's funeral was Thursday. She had requested a full Catholic funeral mass, with all the symbolism attached. Prior to the service I directed his attention away from the open casket. During the actual service he sat somewhat bored...typical of his reaction to every Sunday at church as the funeral mass very closely followed the protocol of our everyday mass. When the priest waved the incense over the coffin Noah still had his eyes cast down to the floor. Soon the perfume of frankincense and myrrh spread across the church. Noah turned to me with his big brown eyes and smiled widely, "Ethiopia!" he said excitedly. Now his interest was peaked. He obviously had attended Orthodox funerals in Ethiopia. He stood on his toes to watch. After the priest returned to the altar Noah turned to me and asked,

"When do we go and dig her hole?"

When do we go and dig her hole? When do WE go and dig her hole?

That afternoon...in a small church on the Olympic Peninsula...under the veil of a somber moment Noah learned another life lesson. We do not have to dig holes. When it comes to facing the death of a loved one, the only job we have is that of embracing one another. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just embracing one another.

A moment away from Noah...to reflect on his big brother's birthday 8 years ago....

As I write, it is the early morning hours of February 3rd in Seoul. I have always spent the day before my adopted sons birthdays with thoughts to honor the women who gave birth to them a world away. So today my thoughts are in Sam’s birth land. Eight years ago today a young woman began to feel the pains of labor somewhere in the crowded streets of Seoul. Eight years ago today a young woman was in her final hours of hiding from her family a pregnancy she did not expect or want. Eight years ago today, in Korea, Yoon Jae-Bum became and orphan as his birthmom walked away from her newborn son in a city hospital. Eight years ago today a hero was born in my heart.

Nearly 96% of unwed pregnant women in South Korea choose abortion according to their Ministry for Health, Welfare and Family Affairs. 96%!!

Many people ask, “How could a mother leave her own newborn baby?” I could never...ever...ask that question of Sam’s birthmother. She courageously chose to face social indignation for carrying a child in her womb as a single woman. She chose to be that 4%. She chose to carry our Sam Jae-Bum...the beautiful gift she gave our family...Eight years ago today.

Happy Birthday Sam Jae-Bum.

I'm Back

A very sincere apology for being absent for so long from this site! The end of the year swept me away and I am finally feeling like I am back. So...here we are...Noah has been home for 16 months now and as much as I hate using the phrase, "It's like we have always had him," I have to say it is so very true. The newness of an addition to the family has worn off, the blessed honeymoon period over, and the pulling up the shirt sleeves and getting down to business as far as discipline and expectations has begun. Somedays it is heartbreaking and somedays I have to pinch myself because I am so incredibly blessed to be able to call this little man my son.

Noah is half way through is second grade year. Every day he comes home full of excitement and stories of his classroom. I had to laugh right before Christmas break when he hopped into the car already explaining himself before I read the note from his teacher. Apparently he was swinging his book bag a little too enthusiastically when his class was singing Happy Trails (which in itself is so cool that 16 months ago he could hardly mutter a word in English and now he is singing in his perfect pitch Who cares about the clouds when we're together? Just sing a song and bring the sunny weather anyway... ) and "loudly" getting their stuffed packed up at the end of the day. He "bonked" Lily in the head with his bag which sent her into a fit of tears. When I asked Noah why he "bonked" Lily with his book bag, a quickly defended his actions by saying she was being too loud and it reminded him of when he herded goats in Ethiopia. He needed to gain control of the situation. He then added that Lily should be lucky he didn't have a stick. I dare you...truly...I dare you to try not to hold back a laugh when you see that sweet face and those beautiful brown eyes evoking his goat herding memories from his life in Ethiopia. I had to step out of the car...HE thought I was cooling my jets. : >)

We are still assessing Noah as far as his cognitive ability. His older brother Zak was adopted from China at about the same age. The timelines of their lives before they came to our family are very similar. So much has to be weighed into brain development when the first 7 years of life are a mystery. For Zak we are fortunate he didn't miss a beat...and in truth is scary smart. For Noah, it seems like there might be some delays. We aren't ready to jump and panic yet, but are definitely monitoring some of his cognitive skills.

Noah's memories of Ethiopia still flood his thoughts. He is able to emotionally handle them better as time passes. This past week, with images of the earthquake in Haiti he had a very interesting memory. He is keenly aware of the countries surrounding Ethiopia. He has an uncle in Somalia. He is not partial to Sudanese because refugees of the unrest would wander into his village on numerous occasions. Noah was watching the news about the earthquake and turned to me, recalling an adventure his aunt and he took. He described traveling a long distance by car to the ocean. He said some of his family who had lived by the ocean had been washed away by a giant wave. He talked about massive destruction that looked a lot like the earthquake images on the screen. I Googled tsunamis in Somalia and sure enough...the big one that hit Thailand crossed the sea and hit the coast of Somalia. Noah would have been just a little over three years old. Of course I am a woman of perspective...and for one of my sons earliest memories to be witness to the aftermath of the deadliest tsunami on record...well...that memory kind of shadows my son Nick's Toy Story third birthday party.

One quick last note...the picture of Noah holding the cookie for Santa that looks like the ET flag...his sly look is hiding the small detail that he mixed a spoonful of bereber into the red frosting...so when Santa took a bite...around midnight...exhausted...and ready for bed...'he' was greeted with an explosion of Ethiopian spices in his mouth. God Bless berbere!!

Finally a moment to write...

Where has the time gone.  It's been over a month since I posted.  I have to admit, it's for selfish reasons.  A friend encouraged me to enter the National Novel Writing Month challenge, so for the past 29 days I have been pecking away at the keyboard to get to my 50,000 word goal.  I passed it last week and am still about 1/3 way from the finish line of a complete novel. : >)

Noah is doing well.  He is continuing to grow like a weed...has gained about 20 lbs since his arrival a little over a year ago.  And yes...his feet are still growing as well.  Fall was a year of not only physical growth for Noah but cognitive and emotional growth as well.  He continues to move forward in his 2nd grade class.  At this point Math seems to be his strongest subject.  His command of the language is also mind blowing.  He can express himself without any difficulty although at times we have to chuckle at his Noahisms.  For instance, tonight Hannah is going to watch Sam and Noah while the rest of us work at the homeless overflow shelter in Vancouver. He can hardly wait for 'baby take care of me' with Hannah.  

Translation:  Baby Take Care of Me= babysit : >)

Noah  has blended very well into our community.  The excitement of a new student from Ethiopia has worn off across the board.  That has been somewhat hard for Noah to adjust to the attention off of him so he has gone overboard at times to get some negative attention.  We have had to come down hard on him with consequences.  Another for instance...and in truth it is somewhat laughable...but...he just can't do this.

The hearing and audiologist came to the school to screen the kids for hearing and sight.  I happened to walk into the office a few minutes after Noah had his testing done.  

The school nurse came up to me and said, "Did you know Noah cannot hear or see well." 

I laughed, "No...what do you mean?"

"He failed both...according to the results he is sight and hearing deficient."

"He hears fine at school in Mrs. Smith's class.  He chooses NOT to listen to me at home but that's not because he is deaf.   He seems fine around the house."  Then I looked at the nurse and said, "He's playing you guys for attention."  

She was left wondering what was up.  I got caught up in life and forgot about the conversation.

Following week we get a letter in the mail from the Educational Service District informing us that our severely deaf and hearing impaired child needs further testing through a specialist provided to us through the ESD and we would need to call to make an appointment.

"NOAH," I called him into the room.  I read the letter word for word, accentuating the words severely deaf and sight impaired .  "What's this all about?  Do you realize we have to take  you in," and then I began to fib a wee bit,  "and now you are going to need to have to get glasses that are strapped to your head with a rubber band AND you are going to have to have a little box screwed to your head, behind your ear, with a wire running into your ear so you can hear better."  

He looked at me horrified. 

"It's ok Noah...it will make you be able to see and hear better.  It's what we have to do...for you."

He sat very silent and then looked to me with his big brown beautiful eyes.  "Can't I just do the test again?"

"Why would you have to Noah...unless..."

"I want to take the test again," he insisted.  "I lied."

"Why would you do that Noah?"  I explained to him the chain of events, the extra work these adults had to go through to get to the point of the letter I held in my hands. "Why?"

"I wanted to see what would happen if I failed."  

Logical for someone still trying to figure out this new world of his BUT not acceptable.

"Well...here's what would happend, " I told him.  "You go to your room....and no video games for the long weekend. You wanted to know what would happen...well...here you go."

Noah likes to wear the sweat pants that swish when he walks.  He quickly turned on a dime, knowing full well any form of argument would fall on my own self imposed deaf ears, and quickly swished to his room.

 

Clouds

The other day I took Hannah, Noah, and Sam to the park.  Hannah went for a run.  Sam and Noah played on the playground.  About 20 minutes into playing Noah came running over to me and pointed to the sky.  Excitedly he raised his hands to a cloud and outlined its shape, explaining to me how it resembled a Great White Shark.  After a few seconds I could see it...it was almost the perfect shape of the front end of an attacking Great White.  Wow...we stood together watching as the Great White slowly dissolved into a mass of rain clouds.  When it was completely blended Noah ran back to the playground to play with Sam.  I watched him run away...thinking...wondering...did he have time to take note of the shapes of clouds in Ethiopia? If so, what did his imagination see.  Not sharks, I am sure.   A year ago he had no idea such a creature was a part of his world.

 

How many clouds passed over his head the first 6 years of his life in Ethiopia that took on shapes of things he had no idea existed nor could he imagine would be a part of his new world?  

Did Great White Sharks appear in his Ethiopian sky?    

Noah's Homecoming Anniversary

We celebrated Noah's homecoming day this weekend.  He has officially been ours for one year!  Here are some pictures of the past few weeks.  It's been busy between soccer and all of his siblings activities.  He's also has learned about the lucrative business of a lemonade stand on a hot summer day. : >) We spent this past weekend at the beach...Noah  had never seen the ocean before.  He stood at the edge of the water, his arms spread wide, just chanting ETHIOPIA over and over.  We aren't sure why.  He is still so connected to where he came from yet so much a part of his new world in America.   

Family

Happy Ethiopian New Year!

This morning was the first time since school started that Sam, Noah and I were able to walk to school.  Hannah caught a ride with a friend so the 'twins' and I had the calmness of a beautiful NW morning to stroll to 2nd grade.

  

I don't know what it is about these morning walks, but it seems that every time we have a chance to slow down and walk Noah opens up about his life in Ethiopia.  Today's story, just as numbing as the ones before.  It all started when Noah asked, "What if the man (judge for finalization) told you I could not be your son?  Would I have had to go back to Ethiopia?"  I told him, honestly, that they would try to find another family for him in the United States.  Noah said he was glad  the judge said he could be in our family. He loved his family in Ethiopia but he knows he cannot go back.  He doesn't want to go back.   Noah started talking about his family in Ethiopia. On a regular basis,  he talks about his Aunt Genet.  Noah said he never really slept well at Genet's.  I asked if it was because of his baby cousin, Galiela.  

"Not always, " he said.  

"Then why didn't you sleep well?"

Then Noah spoke about what happened in Genet's shack soon before he was relinquished . A group of men came into the shack at night and grabbed Noah and took him away.  He described having his hands tied behind his back with a "thick brown rope".  The men told him he was going to be a part of their 'family' now.  Noah said he fought and argued but they kept him tied up.  They wanted him to join their 'family'.   They were a patched together 'family' of thieves. They needed a little body to sneak in to other's homes and steal for the 'family'.  This morning, when Noah spoke, he said he agree to join their family so he could be untied.   When they released him he bolted back to Genet's house.  The next night they came back and took Noah again.  The blanket over the door frame rendered Genet and Noah defenseless.  Once again Noah fought but in the end agreed and even stole a coin and brought it back to the men to prove himself, but still he had no intention of being a part of the family of thieves.  He returned to Genet's.  Genet alerted, what Noah described as, the local police.  The third night the police waited outside Genet's shack and when the thieves returned to snatch Noah again they were "caught."

Noah said it wasn't long after that that he was taken to Kombulcha, to the orphanage. 

 

Noah has experienced so many forms of family in his life thus far.  For a very brief time he truly was a family with his Ethiopian mom and a dad.  Tuburculosis ended it.  His 'family' shifted to a single dad and son.  Tuburculosis ended it.  Then his family was a wonderful aunt, a baby cousin, and a nephew.  Fear, hunger, and poverty ended it.  He became a family with the other orphans at the WACAP House, who were all waiting for placement.  My travel to Ethiopia ended it.  Today his family is my family is our family.  As we walked to school this morning I vowed again in my heart that Noah Musse is my son forever.  Nothing will ever end it.   

                               Noah, Teklu, Sam, Menywab and Megan at the WACAP picnic
                                            Teklu and Menywab spent the weekend with us
                              Noah insisted on dressing up when we went up the gorge for brunch
                     Finalization Day!!!  Noah officially became a Barclay and our family was complete
                            First day of school!!  He was ready...and very excited to start 2nd grade.

What a month we have had!  Noah has had a wonderful end of summer.  Probably the highlight for Noah was the visit of Ato Teklu (ET country representative for WACAP), his second 'dad' after he was housed at WACAP House in Ethiopia.  While Noah was waiting to come to our family Ato Teklu was an amazing comfort to Noah.  Teklu was in the states on the invite of WACAP.  He was able to see many of 'his' children who had been adopted.  Also visiting was Ato Menywab, the director  of Bete Hitsanat, the initial orphanage that housed Noah before he was moved to WACAP house.  We offered to have both men stay at our house during part of their stay and were very pleased that WACAP said yes.  We had a wonderful visit with lots of laughs with these wonderful men.  More importantly, Noah re-connected with Ato Teklu.  It was very special to see. 

Noah's adoption was also finalized this past month.  He is now 100% family. : >)  

Finally...two days ago Noah started 2nd grade.  His tutoring this summer helped him catch up to  his classmates for the most part.  We are confident he is going to have a wonderful year.   

The question is asked many times over, "How is Noah doing?"  To be honest, at this point of the game Noah seems to be doing fantastic.  Really.  This summer, his first summer in America, has been full of a lot of adventures.  

When I was in Ireland with my daughter, Noah and the rest of the men of the family took a road trip north to Seattle.  They caught a Mariners game...something so foreign to Noah that according to Jeff the size and scope of Safeco Field blew Noah's socks off!   Jeff said by the 5th inning he was dancing in the aisles and singing along with the rest of the fans.  He really does live by the motto, "If you can't beat them...join them."    After a night at grandma's in Seattle they headed down to the Great Wolf Lodge...and indoor waterpark that basically could be described as what a casino is to adults...the Great Wolf Lodge is to kids.  Every day since then Noah has begged to go back.  He has no fear so he was riding the biggest rides they have.  One, my husband described to me, was like a giant toilet bowl.  Imagine 4 bugs strapped to a leaf spinning down a  toilet bowl vortex and that was Noah and his brothers on one of the raft rides there.  Let's just say I am glad I was half a world away.   : >)  I wish I had pictures of the whole adventure but Jeff forgot the camera...I guess I should'nt be too mad though.  At least he didn't forget to bring a kid. : >)

  

On the home front...Noah has been busy with tutoring and swim lessons.  Noah is now reading at about a 1.8 grade level which basically is equal to his classmates.  Phew...I am so so so very relieved that he has caught up in less than a year.  He still has trouble transferring information because of the language but he really has made incredible gains over the past several months. 

We have a pool at our house but have only allowed Noah in it with water wings.  Since swim lessons started 2 weeks ago however, he has proven himself to be a very strong swimmer.  So far removed from our spring break where he actually almost made the life guard at the hotel in Washington DC get wet!!  He no longer looks like he is splashing in an Ethiopia water hole but is actually using the correct kicks and strokes.  Check another thing off the list. : >)

Now and then Noah's behavior has a setback.  We expect it so we are ready to lay down the law. Today he missed a play date with a  friend as part of the consequence of some naughty behavior at swimming yesterday.  It really hit home with him and the tears fell.  As hard as it was I stuck by my guns...and I know for a fact he has learned his lesson.  Friends and playdates are his LIFE!!  

So...that's the lowdown on Noah.  This weekend we are very very excited to welcome Mr. Ato Teklu to our home.  He is the director of WACAP adoptions in Ethiopia.  He is in America for a short visit.  Noah is beyond excited and is counting down the days and hours until he can see his Teklu again.  What a special man...I am excited for my family to meet him as well.

Duty calls...back to work.

Summertime!

This is a shot of Noah doing one of his chores...watering the garden.  He always forgets to take off his waterwings...

We have officially started our second month of summer vacation...so far so good.  Noah has had some trouble with the lack of structure summer brings.  I think he and I both crave the school year schedule.  He's become a huge fan of the tv show Avitar...and that has been my bargaining chip when he is choosing make waves.  Overall he's not a behavior problem...he just lacks the long term focus my other kids have so he is in constant motion moving from one thing to another.  There's usually a trail of destruction in his wake as well. : >)

Now that the first part of vacation is over I can slow down and reflect on Noah...and his past 9 months with us.  The physical changes are very obvious.  He has grown 2 3/4 inches since he walked through our front door for the first time!  He's also put on about 15 lbs. Needless to say, he is growing like a summer weed.  We took him to the dentist and it appeared that his permanent teeth were having difficulty finding their way down because of the unusual spaces in his teeth.  So with a quick trip to the orthodontist Noah got 'braces' or 'grills' :  >) on just his two front teeth to pull them together and open up the spaces for his canines to drop down.  It's made a huge difference his teeth are shaping up. 

    

Noah's teacher has graciously offered to tutor Noah this summer.  He goes to her house every day for 45 minutes of one-on-one.  It has made such a huge difference and come fall he will be just about caught up with the rest of his classmates.  We are so grateful to her.  Noah is now reading solidly at a mid first grade level.  He's making great gains all the way around.

The biggest test of Noah's summer so far has been my absence for 10 days when my daughter Hannah and I went to Ireland the first part of July.  Since his placement with our family he has never had a day/night without me.  He did great, although when I talked to him on the phone he would just say, "I'm sorry mom, I don't know, I just love you so much."  Very sweet to hear.   I am also very grateful that he had the ability to handle this adversity with very little problems. By the way...Ireland...WOW!!  Very very fun!

  

Yesterday Noah went grocery shopping with me and I let him get some ice cream cones sans the ice cream as we had 5 gallons back at the house.  The box showed the cones with dripping, delicious (or de-liss-shus as Noah would say) vanilla ice cream.  So last night after dinner, Noah runs up to the house and gets the box of cones out of our pantry.  He was very excited to share the ice cream cones with the family.  He opened up the box, looked inside, and then had a very angry/puzzled look on his face.  He looks up at the family and says, "Stupids...they forgot to put the ice cream on the cones."  He hasn't quite figured out the magic of refrigeration...nor the need for it when it comes to frozen foods. :  >)

He has spent many hours in our swimming pool.  He doesn't fear water but he most certainly does not know how to swim.  He said he swam in Ethiopia but the way he moves in water it would seem more realistic to think he splashed in a waterhole...or stream.    Thank goodness for waterwings!  Next week he starts his first official swim lessons.  We will just have to  see how that goes. : >) 

Next month Noah will be reunited with a very special man from Ethiopia, Mr. Ato Teklu.  He is traveling to the states and will be at the WACAP picnic.  Noah can hardly wait and truth be told, neither can I.  My entire family is anxious to meet this wonderful man Noah and I talk about almost every day.  

This Friday is the one year anniversary of Noah's court date.  The date he officially became ours.  How fast time has flown.  Never in my imagination could I have guessed how this little guy has changed our world.  When you are in the waiting stages of adoptions you try to picture your life with that child.  Now, a year later my thoughts of a year ago seem so minor compared to the "real" life with Noah.  

We are blessed...we truly are.  

 

A moment to reflect....

A friend passed on a wonderful book to me recently, Guide My Feet by Marian Wright Edelman.  It is a book of prayers and meditations on loving and working with children.  This particular prayer caught my eye...it's by Ina J. Hughes.

A Prayer/Pledge of Responsibility for Children

We pray (accept responsibility) for children

who sneak popsicles before supper,

who erase holes in math workbooks,

who can never find their shoes.

And we pray (accept responsibility) for those

who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,

who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,

who never "counted potatoes",

who are born in places we wouldn't be caught dead,

who never go to the circus,

who live in an X-rated world.

We pray (accept responsibility) for children

who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,

who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money.

And we pray (accept responsibility) for those

who never get dessert,

who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,

who watch their parents watch them die,

who can't find any bread to steal,

who don't have have any rooms to clean up,

whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser,

whose monsters are real.

We pray (accept responsibility) for children

who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,

who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,

who like ghosts stories,

who shove dirty clothes under the bed, and never rinse out the tub,

who get visits from the tooth fairy,

who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,

who squirm in church or temple and scream in the phone,

whose tears we sometimes laugh at

and whose smiles can make us cry.

And we pray (accept responsibility) for those

whose nightmares come in the daytime,

who will eat anything,

who have never seen a dentist,

who aren't spoiled by anybody,

who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,

who live and move, but have no being.

We pray (accept responsibility) for children

who want to be carried

and for those who must,

for those we never give up on

and for those who don't get a second chance.

For those we smother...

and for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind enough to offer it.

Adapted from Ina J. Hughes

Coming down to the end...

We are one week away from the end of the school year.  What a year it has been!

Noah had his end of the year evaluation for ESL etc.  He will still need at least another year of ESL (yeah...he needs it..Zak tested out after the first year and that kind of complicated things early on in his education) but in truth has made such great gains given where he was a year ago.  

He, of course, started off in October neither reading or writing.  Today he is reading and writing at both a first grade level...right where he needs to be!  I also was presented with an amazing 'gift' this week from his teacher...she has offered to work with him every day this summer to keep the 'fire' lit in him.  She more than likely will be looping as well, so he will be graced with her amazing teaching for another year!   Also, one of his 5th grade tutors will be hired to continue her work with him as well.  I truly feel blessed with the people surrounding Noah.  His spirit has created such an amazing network of goodwill.

 

Today we had a Thank You party for his 5th grade tutor/mentors.  I brought Doro Wot and injera and they feasted like honorary Ethiopians.  Some liked it...some didn't.  They all loved the brownies, however : >).  Marian Wright Edelman has written a fantastic book,  I Can Make A Difference, that we presented to each one of them.  They truly did make a difference in Noah's life!   

One way to choose...

    How many major decisions have you made based upon eeny meeny miny mo or Rock Paper Scissor?  In your lifetime probably more than you can count.  Today, when we were walking to school Noah told me about a time he had to use his own version to make a big decision in his life.  Once again I have to add, every day I gain a new sense of perspective from him, and this morning was no different.

    We started our walk as we usually do, chatting about bugs and how tall the field grass is or whether or not the boys should have brought a sweatshirt to keep away the morning chill.  Today, Noah turned his backpack so he was wearing it on his front.  He made a little pouch and smiled, saying “This is how I carried Galiela.” (Galiela is his baby cousin who was given up for adoption prior to Noah’s relinquishment.  He still talks both his aunt and his baby cousin almost daily)  He told me how he would carry her all over Desse, his home town.  From sun up until sun down his aunt would go to the Teff fields to harvest the grain and Noah would be in charge of baby Galiela.  Noah said their neighbor, Mrs. Wordos, would be home so Noah would check in with her throughout the day.  Now and then Noah would carry Galiela out to the fields, in his front pack, to visit his aunt Genet.  When he would have to leave and Genet had to get back to work Galiela would scream for her mommy, like any baby her age, any where in the world would do.  

    Sadly Noah’s time with Galiela was short lived.  Genet had no way to feed the two extra mouths.  One day she took Galiela to the orphanage where she relinquished her.  Noah was devastate at the loss of his baby cousin.  Through Noah’s recollections Galiela was adopted to a family in Spain.  

    Things didn’t get better for Noah and Genet.  This morning Noah recalled a moment with Genet.  Genet told Noah she could not take care of him anymore.  She told Noah she had three choices for him as far as where he could go.  America.  Spain. Somalia.   Noah has an uncle in Somalia and Genet considered sending him to live with the uncle.  Here in front of  6 year old Noah were three options. America.  Spain.  Somalia.

    This morning...with his fingers...Noah showed me how he became our son.  He touched his pinky finger on his left hand and said, “America.”  He touched his ring finger on his left hand and said, “Spain.”  He touched his middle finger on his left hand and said, “Somalia.”  He continued this through all ten fingers and whatever country he said when he touched his right pinky finger was his choice... “America.”  

Happy Camper

 We took Noah camping this weekend.  He did awesome...then again if you think about it he 'camped' for the first 6 years of his life.  In fact...our 'roughing it' really doesn't compare to his every day existence in Desse. Regardless, Noah was the definition of "Happy Camper" over the long weekend.  We took a short drive to Silver Falls State Park set in the Oregon Cascade Range.  Noah's Godmother and her family, as well as another family, joined us.  All in all our camping party was 17 people strong.  Now that's a lot of mouths to feed. 

What was really cool about the weekend was of the 11 children camping, 7 were adopted.  3 from China, 2 domestic, 1 Korea, and 1 Ethiopian. : >)  They have their own special support group.  Really a wonderful thing. 

Noah's favorite part of the whole experience was riding his bike around the campground.  He probably logged in about 30 miles in 2 days.  He was exhausted Monday night when we put him in the bathtub.

Perspective and Happy Mother's Day

My perspective has never been the same since I returned from Ethiopia 7 months ago.  

I saw a lot.  I heard a lot. I touched a lot.  A lot touched me.

  

When the world started talking about swine flu last week I listened.  But with all the hype my perspective kept winding its way back to Ethiopia.  Why in our world would the deaths of 27 people in Mexico create a panic that would have hotels holding travelers hostage in Asia, citizens screaming to close our borders, jet planes changing their routes because a passenger has a cough, and schools shutting down because someone has a fever.

  

In the Sub-Sahara region of Africa, the soil from where my son comes from roughly 5,500 people die A DAY from AIDS.  That's right, in ONE DAY.  On the Ethiopian soil from where Noah walked one year ago ... 5 million children are orphaned... 1 million children are orphans living with the HIV/AIDS.  On the African soil from where Noah's family still lives today almost 7,400 people are newly infected with HIV A DAY.  

Imagine living with those numbers day to day.  So I ask a question...what if Ethiopia or Uganda or Zambia were our neighbors to the south...neighbors knocking on our door for help.  Would the world notice?

  

Here's a little something I found this week.  Some bullet points from the Federal Ministry of Health in Addis Ababa for the past week while we have been washing our hands with Purell. 

• Given the late start of belg and the approaching hunger season (yes, their ministry has a name for the time of year when famine could strike) food security  and nutrition conditions may deteriorate rapidly in some parts of the country.
  
• Since the beginning of April admission rates of malnourished children have increased rapidly and are alarmingly  high in some areas.
  
• Over 1000 children have been admitted to health care centers in one weeks time due to malnutrition.
  
• The average price of cereals is still high and the price of livestock is increasing.  No rainfall from belg producing areas so prospect of belg harvest is not promising due to inadequate land preparation and late planting due to erratic nature of the rain.
  
• 26 deaths have been reported due to Acute Watery Diarrhea  last week.  Due to lack of proper drugs, poor water supplies, poor hygiene and sanitation, and inadequate human resources they only expect these numbers to grow.  
  

   Oh, and one more thing....

• No reports of Influenza H1N1 (swine flu)  Phew!!

You see...Perspective. 

May 7 is World AIDS ORPHANS Day.  May 10 is Mother's Day.  May 12 is the one year anniversary of Noah's relinquishment...the day he said good-bye to the only world he knew and started his transition into our world.   Mother's Day is bookended by two very sobering reminders of life outside my walls. 

  

A friend of mine adopted an HIV+ child from Ethiopia.  We met in Addis last September and spent a week together with our new children.  It was the AHOPE orphanage that Melat was in that left such a strong imprint on my mind.  This month Jessica was honored by having an essay about adopting an HIV+ child published in Seattle's Child Magazine.  Within the article there are some great ideas for Mother's Day gifts that Support AIDS orphans.  I would highly recommend checking the article and the ideas out.  

Seattle's Child Magazine: A Mother’s Essay: Adopting a Daughter with HIV

So let's see...for Mother's Day this year I think I'm going to ask for a bowl of peppermint candy ice cream and some micro-roasted coffee that will help support AHOPE.  

Happy Mother's Day