Day 17: Random Acts of McShame

So, I don't really eat fast food.  I can count the number of times I have eaten at McDonalds in the past 7 years.  It's the same amount of times I want to throw up at myself for doing it.  *Each time I did, it was essentially an emergency.  And by emergency I mean we were traveling out of state and there were no other places to eat and I had already eaten both of my shoes, so it was a matter of survival.  Still, I regretted it each and every time.  

The shoes, though, I stand by that decision to this day.

My husband is a very different story.  He hates his arteries and wants to McStuff them with as much puréed cattle tendon as possible.  I try, and I have made a great deal of headway... now, he seldom eats fast food, but despite all my efforts, he still craves fries after watching movies like Supersize Me.

He and his friend, David - who is also our pastor - stood in line at McDonalds one morning at approximately 4:30 am in an attempt to earn a coupon for one free breakfast sandwich a week for a full year. (These are my spiritual leaders ladies and gentlemen... this may help some of you understand my limitations as a person.)   McLawsuit decided not to extend the offer past one year, because no patron would survive past the year on that diet anyways.   

Now, my position on McDonalds has not changed.  The poor quality of their food, their horrifying treatment of animals, their love for little bits of bone in their burgers... it all repulses me.  

But we do have that coupon...

I know, I know... How could I??  

But the sandwich is free!  And I have kindnesses to uphold!  So, here's how it all went down...

We went in and used the coupon to get the sandwich with the purpose of giving it to the guy on 104 always holding a "Hungry & Homeless" sign.  In a moment of weakness, I almost caved and got one too, because I don't care what anyone says, their breakfast sandwiches are actually delicious.  But then Tom reminded me of scenes from countless documentaries I've seen, and I couldn't do it.  But, I did get a hashbrown, citing "you can't mistreat a potato" as my rationale.

I couldn't have been more wrong.  

The grossly mistreated potato had been cooked in rancid oil.  It was seriously one of the most disgusting things I ever spat into a bag. I just threw up in my mouth from reliving it.

Once again, Tom and I are in different camps here.  He did get himself a sandwich and enjoyed it thoroughly.  While I was spitting and yelling, "We're all dying of Egg McMuffin!" he was deciding which sandwich to keep, and which to give. 

"Who needs the egg more, me or the homeless guy?" 

Tom suggested we go in and complain, but admitted that they would probably just give us coupons for more free food.  When I explained that I didn't want more of their food, but that what I wanted was those years of my life back... we decided to just go find our guy.

We found him.

He was playing a guitar for the passing cars, and He seemed happy and thankful for the breakfast, but I can't shake the feeling that we have done something horribly wrong today.  Still, our heart was in the right place and I do think he was blessed.  We all made sacrifices today, I sacrificed my dignity, my taste buds and the ability to not feel nauseas all day and McHeartDisease, I mean, Tom sacrificed the one with egg.

Day 16: Gettin' Schooled

I love my kids' teachers.  All of them.  I love the assistant teachers, the teacher aids, the specials teachers, the cafeteria monitors, the librarians... every adult in my kids' schools are awesome.

I'm really not being sarcastic.  I love the bus drivers too.  Well, the newest one seems unusually rage-filled, but I think she is trying really hard... and I love her too.  

I don't know if my kids have just been blessed with amazing teachers and so I love them, or if I would love my kids' teachers no matter what, purely because they are the people charged with the shaping and care of my precious babies for a significant portion of the day.  I kind of think that I would love their teachers no matter what, because I once loved a teacher that yelled all the time and we loved that teacher anyways and eventually we helped Marlie grow to love that teacher as well.

We have always tried very hard to be a help and a support to the teachers because, frankly, I never had the mindset that the public school system owed my kids anything.  We are those scandalous Christians who send our kids to public

 school because, to date, it has been an awesome experience for our kids.  Trust me, if it weren't the best thing for one of my kids, I'd yank them out in a hot second.  But, we really feel that it's what has been best.  (Each kid, each year, new decision.  That's our educational decision-making motto.)

Anyways, these people deserve a little respect and appreciation from parents.  Teachers are held to ridiculously high standards, forced to adapt their teaching style to meet the needs of so many students with their own unique needs, plus accommodate parental preferences and meet their state and district requirements.  They work hard all year, oftentimes missing out on time with their own children because they are with mine.  

These people deserve a coffee every now and again for pete's sake!

So, coffee they shall have.  Love a teacher today, buy a coffee and if they are a big yeller... mmmmaybe go half-caff.

***ATATT Update: Thank you all so much for your prayers today, Tom's interview was, in his own words, a "slam dunk."  You can safely assume that those would never be my words.  There was no behaviors that could be described as tribal, and his bowels remain in tact.  He got great feedback on his presentation and he really has no regrets and feels that he did everything he could have done, and the rest is in God's hands.  I don't care if he gets the job or not, I am just so proud of him, and thankful for all his hard work and efforts.  That being said, if you are reading this and you are in charge of hiring at RIT, hire Tom or I will key your car. 

Day 15: All Tom, All the Time

Before you start reading this, I am going to ask you to kindly get your grace face on because today's kindness was not all that impressive.  Many of you know that Tom and I began our Adventures of Unemployment this past summer and it has been a wild ride.  I have been  a bit of a crazy person  awesome and supportive, the true picture of patience.  As much as I have loved this wild ride, I am ready for a new ride... one that has a salary and health insurance.

Despite Tom's diligent pursuit of a new job, he has not had any real solid leads until now.  Last week he had a phone interview with RIT (Rochester Institute of Technology) and he was asked back for a face-to-face interview tomorrow.  He will also have to give a presentation to a panel of brilliant and intimidating people that hold our future in their technologically advanced hands.

I think it goes without saying that Tom has explosive diarrhea.

So, Day 15 (sort of) is that when I was going out to do my Random Act of Kindness this evening, my poor husband begged me to "sit down and listen to him practice his presentation."  He meant to say, "...for one hundred million hours" at the end of that, but forgot I guess.

He insisted that my  mom  readers would understand and would accept this as the greatest kindness I could bestow.  I doubted that very seriously, so I vow to double up on kindnesses tomorrow... but, let me just tell you that doing this for Tom was not without difficulty given out personal limitations.

There is a sort of cocktail of problems really:

1. I come from a heritage of coaching.  Not just any coach, but a wrestling coach, so I come by these struggles naturally.  When I am put in a situation where I am asked to give guidance or a little gentle feedback, I furiously scribble notes, and yell criticisms spontaneously from the corner.  Tonight was no exception.  I was firmly coaching Tom through the whole presentation, which was maybe the opposite of helpful.
2. Tom comes from a heritage of worry warts.  Not just any worriers, but the explosive diarrhea variety, so he comes by his struggles naturally as well.  When he is put in a situation where someone is shout-coaching him with disproportionate intensity, he will exhibit bizarre and rarely seen behaviors including, but not limited to:

• An odd Grease Lightningesque hair flicking.
• Vocalizing various explosion-style sound effects.
• Doing, what could only be described as, tribal gyrations.

Once I had aggressively "coached" him to the point of gyrations, I felt a sense that I had said too much.  So, I apologized and backed it down a notch.  His behavior normalized and we were much more productive.  I didn't laugh one single time (except for the first two minutes, straight) and he got through the whole thing several (thousand) times flawlessly.  

So... Day 15.  I helped my husband, sort of.

I have the utmost confidence in Tom, and I have faith that if this job isn't the right one for our family then God has something in store for us that will make us look more and more like Him in the long run.  As a kindness to us, though, it wouldn't hurt if you pray for Tom's interview.  Like, non-stop.  Seriously, please start now... lest the gyrations make an appearance during the interview.

  

Day 14: The Valley of One Thousand Rats

One of our more ridiculous experiences from the 31 Days of Kindness last year was the night we tried to bless the homeless.  You can view the full post here, but I'll give you the highlights of the conversation Tom and I had when we couldn't find a homeless person to lavish with our kindnesses.  

L: I don't know, everyone looks homeless.

T: No, he is walking too fast.  The homeless don't have to rush around like that.

L: Just because he is carrying so many plastic bags doesn't mean he is homeless.

T:  Have you ever seen anyone who isn't homeless carry that many bags?

L: Let's just see if that guys needs anything.

T: I'm not just going to assume that someone is homeless, I am not stopping until I am sure.  I need to see someone actually lying on cardboard before I approach them.

L: There are never any homeless people when you need one.

T: I don't know... maybe they cured homelessness.

See.  I told you it was ridiculous.

So, today is my favorite Act of Kindness for this month so far.  Mostly because I believed that it might redeem our relationship with the homeless a little, but also because I think that the homeless and the impoverished are an overlooked and unloved people group that could benefit from everyday kindnesses more than almost anyone else.  Since we are operating on a shoestring budget at the moment, we have tried to get creative with the acts of kindness, but I am so thankful to announce that Day 14 has a generous sponsor!

Today's act of kindness is brought to you by my dear friend, Kathy Blowers, who wanted to donate some money for me to use to bless others during this month.  I was more than happy to put her hard earned dollars to good, kind use!

We used the money to buy warm, second-hand blankets and sleeping bags, then put them in plastic bags to keep them clean and dry.  We placed them in areas of the city that have a higher homeless population with the hope that when the nights get cold, these blankets would be there for someone in need.

I call this one The Valley of One Thousand Rats.  Seriously.  There were like, one thousand, enormous, filthy, steroid-bulked, rats.  I braved the rat-infested grasses in order to provide warmth to the city of Rochester.

Our hope is, ultimately, that someone will stumble upon the blanket but, also, the message that they are noticed, seen and loved.

I started doing 31 Days of Kindness last year because I wanted to focus outside of my own grief, and I wanted to honor my brother's memory by glorifying the God he spent his short life devoted to.  I believe in a God that sees and knows and loves... a God of mercy.  My brother was the type of kid to dance with the shy girl, or stick up for the kid with no real friends, or take the time to sit and talk with his annoying little sister... and those are just some examples of what made my brother so special, but I don't believe that was just "his nature."  I believe that he was showing the fruit of having known and loved the God of mercy.  And when you love and serve the God that sees, it has a way of opening your own eyes to really see.

I think Adam saw.  I think he noticed.  And I think, if he had the chance today, he would walk among a million rats to bring warmth to a weary soul.

Day 13: Trapping the Wise

So at church, Harper decided to give himself a haircut.

It wasn't a lot, just a little off one side.  But you can imagine my shock when I went to pick him up from his class and instead of a typical Sunday school craft in his hand, he was holding a small ball of hair.

We have been having a hard time with this kind of thing, at school and occasionally church.  He is truly such an awesome kid, and even a model citizen... 99% of the time.  But he spends that other 1% of the time with a proverbial hairball in his hand.

The short version of this story is that I often feel like a first time mom with that child.  Even though I'm almost ten years into parenting, every day feels like day one with my little guy.  He just has a way of keeping me guessing and bewildered!  

On Sunday, I was exhausted by it.  It is truly exhausting to spend so much time trying to parent with intention, to shape a child's character, not just their behavior.  I am certainly not complaining, parenting is the great joy of my life, but I was just over the ball of hair if you know what I'm saying.

I desperately plopped myself in front of my friend Sue, who happens to be the wife of our pastor, and she kind of runs the church nursery.  Oh, and she is seriously one of the sweetest, most compassionate people, and also a sensational mom.  Hence the desperate plopping.  I spilled everything we had been struggling with and I begged her for advice and I trapped her in that nursery way longer than I should have and at one point she fake cried because she was so hungry.  She listened graciously, she advised wisely, and she encouraged me as mom.  

So Day 13: I brought Sue cookies.  I had planned to bring her a donut because one question I actually asked her during the trapping was "And, we were supposed to get donuts with grandma and grandpa today, should I let him have a donut!?"  I mean that's where I was at emotionally, I was asking our pastor's wife about my 6 years old's donut. 

But the donut didn't work out, because I didn't think of it until later. :(  but she got pastries nonetheless.  She wasn't home when I delivered them, so unfortunately there won't be any of Tom's paparazzi style photos of the hand off.  To tell you the truth, I will be shocked if they survive the relentless raining that started about five minutes after we left them outside, in front of her garage.

Day 11 & 12: Don't Hate the Kindness, Hate the Player

If you haven't noticed, it is difficult for me to get a blog in on a Friday night.  Well, to be fair, it's difficult for me to get a blog in on any night, but I buckle down because I don't want to disappoint the masses (ie; my mother) waiting to read the latest.  By Friday, however, I'm all like "Why don't you just write a blog Mom/the masses?  All this kindness makes me want to paint my nails and watch The West Wing."

So, my apologies for not writing... but, we did have an action packed Day 11 and 12.  For starters, I watched Annalee's friend from school because the kids had the day off from school, but her mother is a teacher, so she spent the day with us.  This may seem like no big deal, but when you have five kids home as it is, an extra child means that we have to take TWO vehicles because our family maxes out the van all by itself.  

I had an appointment with Jaylen's physical therapist at the Strong Museum of Play, so Tom brought all the rest of the kids shortly after and we had a great time.  

We raced cars...

And climbed walls...

And shopped for sushi...

The second kindness of the day was that my sweet children each brought a dollar of their own money to give to other kids so they could ride the carousel. 

The kids with their dollars.

It was adorable that A) none of them thought twice about using their own money.  (Well, maybe London had a little trouble when it was actually time to fork over the dough, but more on that later.)  B) They were willing to walk up to parents and ask permission to treat their children to a carousel ride. and C) That they didn't burst into tears once, which is what I wanted to do when their sweet, blessed kindness was rejected time and again.

Day 11 epiphany: parents of small children hate kindness.

I am not kidding you, it was so sad.  These poor kids, already looking ridiculous because they were wearing those dumb baker's hats they made for themselves, were dismissed and rejected time and again!  I don't know why, but we discovered that when a group full of children in napkin hats approach a parent who has a toddler in tow, the parent inexplicably and uncontrollably makes the same face.  It's the kind of face you would make if someone threatened to throw acid on your neck, acid that smelled like a fart.  It's a scrunched, skeptical, kinda angry, kinda "that smells farty" kind of a look.  It's very upsetting to see that face more than once in your lifetime, let alone in such a short span of time.  I don't think the children will ever be the same.

Some people said they didn't have time for a carousel ride, some people just said they weren't interested, one guy said "these kids won't go on the carousel, they're so ungrateful they should pay for your kids's ride."  Harper just looked up at him hoping they would just take the stinkin' dollar because he knew that our kids were not allowed to step foot on that carousel until they done their kindness!  It took much longer than expected, and a lot more begging and convincing than we had anticipated, but we got a few weak ones to cave and enjoy a free carousel ride with their child.  London had a little giver's remorse when she had to actually make the hand off, but with the promise of a carousel ride in her future... she begrudgingly went along with it, but I saw just the smallest flash of that tooty-acid look on her face, and something inside me blamed all those parents who hate kindness.

For Day 12, I brought my neighbor a hot, homemade apple crisp fresh out of the oven.  In a previous post, when I blogged about how my husband got laid off, I mentioned these neighbors and my strong desire to smash their car windows in with a shovel.  That's it.  They park in front of my lawn, and Tom lost his job.  I know those two things seem unrelated and that the layoffs weren't directly their fault, but whatever... I can't explain crazy, I just wanted to smash 'em.  

But, for Day 12, I worked through my anger problems and I delivered the crisp.  I felt a little like London handing over that dollar... but, let's face it, as hard as it is to believe, their new company car from an entirely unrelated employer, probably didn't have anything to do with our current unemployment.  I brought the dessert, she actually really appreciated it and she smiled and was nice and she wasn't like the people at the museum at all.  She likes kindness.  It made me feel very guilty for not being kinder, sooner.  

So, here's to days 13-31 and beyond... that we can love our neighbors as ourselves knowing that someone down the street is probably blogging about smashing in our car windows for no reason whatsoever.  

Day 10: Remembering 12/24/12

On Christmas Eve last year, just right around the corner from our home, a nightmare unfolded.  A man killed his own sister, then set his car on fire to lure first responders to the scene.  When they arrived (out of a selfless sense of duty and service to this community), the man began shooting at them.  Some were killed, some injured.  You can read the full USA Today article here: http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2012/12/24/webster-new-york-firefighter-shot/1788917/

Because first responders were being shot at, firefighters were unable to control the fire, and it quickly spread.  By Christmas morning, seven homes had been completely consumed, and children woke up to gifts under the tree from a father who was gone forever.  

Day 10. 

We brought cookies to our local fire department.  Our fire department is one of the few that is 100% volunteers.  Those guys were there that morning and for the following days working alongside the guys from the West Webster Fire Department who had lost some of their beloved brothers.

There was a huge outpouring of support through the holidays, but I know all too well how that support dwindles over time and regular life starts back up for people. This was our way of remembering and honoring those who go in, when everyone else is going out.

Pants and boots, ready to jump in and go. (I am going to start setting up harper's pants like this before school.)

Day 9: #Closure

Okay, it's time to get you all caught up... If you haven't started from the beginning, let's get your act together now.  I'm gonna make it really easy for you.  Here are Days 1-8. Once those are all read, you are welcome to proceed.  I know that felt bossy, but that's because it was bossy, and I don't want to talk about that anymore.

Let's talk about kindness, a much pleasanter topic.  (*Pleasanter is actually a word, I know because I have read Pride and Prejudice one thousand times).  (**Okay, that was a lie.  I've read it twice, but I have watched it one thousand times, both the BBC mini-series and the version starring Keira Knightly.  So please, stop doubting my credibility.)

Anyways, Day 9.  

As most of you already know, I am very passionate about adoption.  I am forthcoming about the beautiful blessing that is adoption, but also the reality that adoption as a concept was born out of tragedy.  The reality that loving homes and families are needed for kids who may otherwise not have one... that is horrifyingly tragic in my opinion.  The reality that biological families are separated, oftentimes never to be reunited, is devastating.  We had hoped for open adoptions for this reason, we hoped to maintain the connections with our boys' birth families because we wanted to play the important role of facilitating whatever relationship would be best for our boys... and we believe that our willingness to remain open and in contact is a gift we are responsible to give our children.

That being said, trans-racial adoption just isn't easy.  It can be hard on adoptive parents, it's hard on adopted children, it can be hard on siblings, birthparents, and extended family.  Adoptive families need a lot of support, and we are so thankful that Bethany Christian Services has been there to offer that much-needed support through both of our adoption journeys.

The staff at BCS has worked their tails off to serve our community.  They counsel women who are considering adoption, they support women who choose to parent, they help line up important resources when expectant parents don't know where to go to get financial or medical assistance.  They train and prepare adoptive families for the hardships of adoption, and weed out all the crazies who have no business adopting a child.  They do background checks, and interviews, and home visits, and they contact lawyers, and apply for grants and subsidies, and they love your baby because he's the cutest.

I mean, generally speaking.

You get the point right?  Adoption case workers are amazing.  At least the ones we know are!  So, for Day 9, we wanted to bless the ladies who blessed our family, stork-style, by making it possible for us to bring our two precious boys into our family via adoption. So, we cut fresh flowers from my garden (please do not be impressed... these were literally the only thing that survived my horrible yard neglect) and we paid the ladies at Bethany Christian Services a visit.  

I chose to celebrate adoption and adoption workers today, because of one young and inspiring woman, named Angela, that I want to introduce to you.  I will let this trailer of her husband's documentary tell you a little more about her...


I first connected with Angela and Bryan Tucker through our common interest in #adoption on instagram.  #thehashtagbroughtustogether.  When I heard that they were trying to show Closure at movie theaters around the country, I begged these strangers to come to Rochester.  I am pretty sure I even offered for them to have a sleepover at my house.  #inappropriate. #creeper #howdidipassthatbackgroundcheck?

Well, to my surprise I succeeded! #holler! For one night only, November 12 at 7:30pm in Webster, NY this amazing documentary will be shown!  I am so excited to see this, and I am really hoping that every last one of you who live in the Rochester area will get on board with today's kindness and will buy a ticket to come!  They need a minimum of 70 people to come, or they will not be able to hold the reservation at the theater.  So for Kindness #2, I am  begging and pleading   demanding  requiring  encouraging you all to consider saving the date and reserving your tickets for this one-night-only event.  It would be a kindness to me and a celebration not only of adoption, but of redemption and closure.  And honestly, that is what these 31 Days of Kindness are all about.  Redemptive grace, and a little healing closure.  So thank you so much for promising me you will go purchase tickets ($9) at their event site immediately.  That was so generous and agreeable of you!  #passivebullyingsometimesworks #bossypants #imnotjokingbuytheticket

Day 8: Planet Kindness

I did not have much of a plan for Day 8, and it started to show when I caught myself thinking, "That was kind, that counts right?"  Low point from Day 8: Resisting the urge to slam on my breaks to punish the maroon Toyota driving so close to my van that he would surely slam into me, and, therefore, learn a lesson.  After exhibiting just the smallest amount of self-restraint in that moment, I thought to myself, "I could have let him just ram right into me, and I didn't.  That's kind right?"  

Needless to say, I started with a pretty lame potpourri of kindness throughout the day.

Kindness #1 - I gave my friend Lexi a free haircut.  I wish I had taken a 'before' picture, but I forgot, so I found one on Google.  I feel pretty good about the accuracy of this as the before photo.  

As you can imagine, it took a kind and loving touch to transform that into this...

Kindness #2 - I opened a little girl's bottle of water at ballet.  (Hey, I told you I had a slow and lame start.)

Kindness #3 - On the way home from ballet, it was getting late and I was starting to panic, so the girls and I rolled down the windows and yelled words of affirmation at strangers we passed.  We yelled things like "I like your hair!" and "Those are great jeans!"  These drive-by compliments literally blessed no one, I am certain.  I know this because I am aware that true words of affirmation have to come from the heart, and are best received when you are needy, vulnerable and insecure.  Where is the one place we all feel that way? 

 Planet Fitness.

Unless you wear those black, lycra capri pants year round, then you are like the rest of us that feel mortified while exercising.  So, I went to Planet Fitness, which is where I (and most people who are too poor or busy or exhausted to be absurdly committed to health and firmness) go to work out.  I wanted to sneak into the ladies' locker room and leave some encouraging reminders that they are doing just fine and that Jesus don't mind a muffin top!  So, here it is, Kindness #4 - a few reminders that us gals need  perpetually and insatiably every now and again.  

Day 7: An Explosion, a Rejection, and Some Very Questionable Bags.

We've got one week down out of our 31 Days of Kindness!  I'm so proud and thankful to those of you who have joined in this week!  I have an idea, let's celebrate by having everything go wrong today!

Oh wait, that already happened.

We kicked off Day 7 by taking apples to the library, and handing them out to the staff and volunteers that so patiently and considerately collect our books, and let's be honest, our fines.  They seemed pleasantly surprised!  There was one lady who "had a lot of dental work done" so she couldn't eat hers.  I'm pretty sure that means she thinks we put razor blades in the apples.  But overall, it was a success.

I think the success got me a little ahead of myself, because when we left the library and saw a girl in a Wegman's uniform presumably walking to work, I maybe got a little too excited.  Marlie and I sprinted across the parking lot to try to catch her and give her an apple and that's when this happened...

The plastic bag we had the apples in spontaneously combusted, which sent the apples spewing all over the land.  I know it sounds a little dramatic to call this an explosion, but if I am exaggerating, then how did this happen??

That is gravel embedded in my apples.

Even after I plucked the shrapnel out of each apple, I was afraid that they would no longer be appealing to strangers.  Sure, only one side was  exploded  a little banged up, but unless you are horse, I don't think you'd want them.

Which got me to thinking... Yes! Horses!  That's the ticket!  

I insisted that we drive to the nearet horse farm and deliver these gravel-free treats to the horses!  The kids were so excited, and we got there and the farmer graciously and heartily accepted the apples and the horses felt loved and we all lived happily ever after.

That, or the horse farmer rejected our apples, and me as a person, I'm pretty sure.  She claimed that they "do not feed their horses by hand" and therefore had no need for our apples.  What!?  How do they feed them?  By robotic arm?  Do they catapult the food over the fence?  Are they zip lining across and dropping little bombs of hay?  And why not apples?  Even if you feed them in a handless manner, is it true that they could have no possible use for apples!?

Okay, admittedly I don't know much about having a horse farm, but I do know that if I ever found myself in a position where I was farming horses and a mother showed up at my farm with five adorable children offering my horses delicious treats, and absolutely could not feed my horses these perfectly razor-blade-and-gravel-less apples, I would eat every last one of them right there on my front porch.  In front of the children.  Cores and all.  Any other response would just be rude.

The starving horse.  Hungry for both apples, and human touch.  Both have been offered tonight, and cruelly denied.

From there, we went to a local park to pick up litter as a family. Upon our arrival, we were disappointed to discover that our town takes pretty good care of our local parks and playgrounds.  After a more thorough look, however, we were pleased to discover that there were plenty of nightmarish gems for us to clean up.  These are just some of the highlights...

Annalee found this "really big water bottle."  And by water, I mean vodka. 

An unexplained pile of tomatoes.

I passed on the picture, but we also found a couple of dime bags with just the tiniest bit of pot at the bottom and two bags full of poop.

The kids actually had a great time doing this, and it beats some of the acts of kindness they have come up with on their own. (London's first act of kindness was "eating a sandwich.") 

So, even though Day 7 was more like "Random Acts of Disaster" as Marlie remarked... I still think that the kids are learning a lot and people are being blessed.  

Horses, though, not so much.

Day 6: Red Rover, Red Rover, Send Tom on Over.

Every day since I started my 31 Days of Kindness, I have been overwhelmed with an outpouring of encouragement, support and kind words shared about my brother.  Yesterday alone I received several messages reiterating what I have always know about Adam, that he was a kind hearted boy, willing to step over the typical social lines in high school, in order to befriend others.  

He did this in the hallways of his school, on the soccer field or the wrestling mat.  He was a hardworking athlete and genuinely loved being part of a team.  His best friends were his teammates, and on the night he was killed, he and his co-captain, were featured in the newspaper for bringing home such a big victory.

The following day, when news of his death had spread, that same picture again made the front page of the paper... but with a very different headline.  

Seeing that picture is bittersweet.  It brings my family joy to see Adam so full of life and excitement in the victory, and it breaks our hearts knowing that these moments were among his last.  

I want to remember Adam this way.  As an athlete.  Healthy, fast, strong.  

For Day 6, I wanted to honor Adam the athlete.  We planned to somehow attach a $5 gift card to the netting of a soccer goal at the varsity field near our house.  The plan was solid, except by the time we got to the field it was after dark and the field was gated and locked.

I insisted/forced Tom to go through with the plan... even though I am pretty sure this was the first time he's ever broken a rule.  But, he mumbled something about being like Robinhood and before I knew it, he was climbing a fence.  He used a tie-wrap to quickly attach the gift card to the net, in just a bit of a panic, as is the case in most first-time B&E cases.  But, it was for the sake of kindness that he put his clean criminal history on the line.  And there you have it, Day 6.

*In the unexpected case that the sirens that passed us moments after we left the field were actually coming after us, we would like to say that the above story is purely anecdotal and is not even true in the slightest.  The photographs may not be used to prove otherwise and/or prosecute us because they have been photoshopped and also we plead the fifth and if necessary, invoke the pirate rule, parlay, as made famous by Captain Jack Sparrow in the Pirates of the Carribean.

Dancing with the Least of These

I fell asleep mid-conversation last night before I ha a chance to post about Day 4, so today will be a b.o.g.o. event... And I think it will be worth the wait.

Day Four: I read on Facebook that some of our very best friends got their pumkins smashed before they even had a chance to carve them.  Paul and Erica, and their three little ones, Macey, Justus and O-Baby O-Theo (it's really just Theo, but that is what London calls him, for no reason whatsoever) were our first friends when we moved to Rochester.  We have gone through so much together, all of the highs and lows of the past six years were spent with this amazing family.

Erica is a quiet servant, she hears of a need, and will quietly try to help.  She sees something that reminds her of someone, and she will buy it and save it for the perfect time. When I saw her post about the kids being bummed... Day Four was easy.

Tom and I were able to deliver new pumkins to the doorstep before the kids got home from school, and they seemed pretty excited. 

Miss Macey

 

Justus

And of course, O-Baby O-Theo

The good news is that purchasing these pumpkins will no longer stress Macey in the financial sense.. So hopefully she can take the weekend off from her home-based business.

For Day Five, it was sort of a potpourri of kindness.  I gave apples to some friends, including our hard working garbage man.  He was really, really surprised and thankful.  

In addition to the apples, I spent an hour and a half taking to my elderly neighbor about old World War II stories.  He told me what the weather was like during the battle of the bulge, and described what he saw at Buchenwald when they liberated Jewish and Polish prisoners, including the mentally ill that we're forced to brutally kill other Jews before they were sent to the crematorium.

The stories were horrific.  And being around Mr. Al, in General is quite challenging.  But, everyone needs to tell their story and he is no exception.  

For my last kindness of the day, I am going to share a special gift with the greater Buffallo, NY region.  The gift of my sweet dance moves.  

Adam always loved to dance, and yesterday an old aquaintence of his shared a beautiful story with me that I had never heard.  She wrote this:

When I was 15, I went to the freshman dance in the cafeteria in the Jr High. I was awkward and very shy. I spent most of the evening hiding in the bathroom and hoping it would just be over. I ended up going out to the dance floor. I didn't know Adam, but I recognized him. He was there all by himself. Amazing! A 14 year old boy at a dance by himself! ( I went with a group of girl friends). I asked if he wanted to dance. He said sure! Before we got a chance, my friend cut in. It was funny the first time, but she did it repeatedly all night long and I never did get to dance with this nice boy. Well, as I was walking down the hall after the dance, I met up with Adam. My friend was no where in sight. I mentioned that to him, just as a joke. He stopped right there and we danced! Just for a few moments. No music, no cafeteria, who cares who saw.

What a special special brother you have! I don't know of any boy that age that would do such a sweet thing. I was always taught that there are angels on earth. I have repeated this story to people many times and there is no doubt in my mind that he was an angel.

That, my friends, was who my brother was.  He didn't care if you were the garbage man, the oldest, grumpiest man alive, or the shyest girl in school... He was a kind and loving friend to all.  So, tonight, I shall dance.  My limbs will flail in directions that don't make any sense, and I will forcefully lead the conga line with participants that are barely willing.  I will do it with great joy, knowing the from heaven, my brother is not dancing alone, but he is getting down with his Heavenly Father and that is one party that just don't stop.

Day 3: Do Not Leave Your Books Unattended

For those of you just joining us, welcome, here is your homework: Day 1 and Day 2.  Now that we are all on the same page, there is something you should probably know... especially if you are planning to join in on all the kindness.  Here it is: kindness scares people.  Now, I'm not saying people don't appreciate acts of kindness, and I would certainly never discourage the kindness!  I am simply stating a fact.  And the fact is that people are very skeptical of random kindnesses.  Last year, I had a whole group of people waiting for a bus reject my donut holes (which were still sealed in a store bought package, mind you, so the rejection was not a sanitary decision which I could have understood and appreciated).  They looked at me like I was trying to give them donut holes laced with meth.  Or hair.

Anyways, people do not trust a gal just handing out perfectly sanitary breakfast pastries, it's just something we all need to accept.  It makes it awkward, sure, but it also makes it even better when someone is blessed by somebody with no strings attached, and slowly they realize that it is not a hidden camera show, or a trap of some sort, but it is, in fact... kindness.

That being said, today's act of kindness was a little on the awkward side.  Now, you newer readers may not know this but my husband was laid off about 3 months ago, and I make almost zero dollars a year, and we have five children, so it goes without saying that we have had to tighten our belt a little.  And by a little, I mean we ate our belt for dinner because we are so poor.  Okay, that was maybe a touch dramatic.  In reality, we are fine.  We're being very frugal and wise and we are learning to go without everything but the necessities, and that is really hard, but very good.  However, I am going to need you to keep all this in mind this month because my acts of service need to cost little to NO money.  I already blew my budget on sugar-free candies for the boys, so it's gotta be Random Acts of Cheapness from here on out.  Enter Day 3.

I love to read, and obviously, I love to write.  I still remember my brother giving me To Kill a Mockingbird, which remains to this day, my favorite book of all time.  Adam was also a voracious reader, and an excellent writer.  He received an award for an essay he wrote on tolerance, and he was the editor-in-chief of an award-winning school newspaper, and if I remember correctly... he had a brief stint in high school being pen-pals with famous author, Ken Follett.

A love for reading and writing is one of my favorite ways that I feel similar to Adam.  So, it seemed fitting (and free) to take some books from my own collection and give them away.  I decided to leave them around, on park benches, at playgrounds, on the gas pump.  I left little notes, like these, so that people knew that someone hadn't just left it behind on accident.

Here's how it got awkward.  If you walk up to a playground, without any children, you already seem like there is at least a chance that you are a registered sex offender.  And with that little cloud of suspicion already around you, one might think it unwise to put an item on a park bench and then slowly leave without saying anything.  Seriously, in hindsight, it was a very terroristy thing to do.  If I was pushing my kid on the swings and I saw that happen, I would definitely think that the book was a small bomb that had been marinating in anthrax.

Fortunately nobody called the bio-terrorist unit, and that's good enough for me.  I am just happy that I could share with some strangers the love of books, and hopefully it will bring a little joy into someone's day and make them fall in love with reading the way Adam and I did.  And if that dream is a little too lofty, at least nobody got anthrax, which is a win for everyone.

Forever Seventeen

I woke up this morning with an act of kindness planned for day two.  I decided to put that plan on hold when I received this picture.

Along with so many of my fantastic friends and family members, my friend Brandi and her husband Danny have committed to participating in our challenge this month.  Brandi works at a boarding school on the north shore of Boston that is specifically for students with dyslexia who come from all over the world. Brandi sent me a message this morning saying that after reading my post from Day One she had been feeling very emotional when her reading students came in and she was struck by the fact that each of her students was, in fact, a 17 year old boy.  

Like Adam, one of these boys is a soccer player who was telling Brandi about his game last night. The realization of these kids' ages and interests prompted a desire to share Adam's story with her students.  As the boys listened to her tell them about how a young life, so similar to their own, was cut short in the blink of an eye, they too were moved with emotion.  To Brandi's surprise, the boys didn't just listen, but they responded... by agreeing to join in with us this month, intentionally committing 31 acts of kindness for the 31 days of October.

I don't know if this will make any sense to anyone... but the fact that there are a couple of 17 year old kids running around Boston, blessing people with kindness is truly the most hilarious and healing image in my mind!  My heart is so full, and it was such a blessing to be able to call my mom this morning and let her know that her son is still impacting lives for good.  What that does for a mama who has lost her son... they don't realize it, but that was their first act of kindness.

So, for day two, my new favorite 17 year old boys are gettin' candy.  

I have zero in common with 17 year old boys (except maybe body type, if they're gangly and awkward)

so I wasn't sure what to send them.  I heard that any kind of junk food is a good idea, so I filled a box with all things high fructose corn syrup.  *If any of you boys have a peanut allergy, spoiler alert, this is not going to go well for you.  I also threw in an unnecessary amount of sugar-free hard candies, which are essentially garbage, but are something I often remember Adam eating.  As a wrestler always trying to "make weight," he would eat those disgusting candies all the time, and get ridiculously upset if... sayyyy... someone like a little sister hid all those candies for no particular reason.

I included a letter thanking them, and telling them a little more about my brother and his candies, and how much this means to our family that my brother's "peers" would be involved in honoring his memory, because Adam is, after all, forever seventeen.

Day 1: Life.

I can't believe that it has already been a full year since I told the story about my brother, Adam.  I started with the story of his death, and spent the rest of the month trying to share and honor the story his life.  And here I am again.  Day one.

Below is the original post, because I think it is important to start at the beginning, and because I want all the new readers to understand why I am spending another October choosing to celebrate and honor life, rather than being consumed by death...

In loving memory of my big brother. 

--

I am going to tell you a story.

I haven't done this before, told this story, so detailed and so publicly.  But, I am going to try something big this month, and I think I need to tell this story in order to do it well.  So, here goes nothin...

It was Halloween night many years ago, and my 17 year old brother, Adam H. Provencal, was driving home from the Regional Championship Soccer game.  He was a senior in high school and the captain of the soccer team, and this victory was worth celebrating, and it was news worth spreading for our small Michigan town.

When my brother (and his friend Mike) were driving home and passed some of their friends out playing some harmless Halloween pranks, it was the perfect time to spread the news.  So Adam pulled the car over and was telling his friends about the big victory.  I have no idea what my brother was thinking or feeling in that moment but, my guess, is freedom.  I imagine a boy - crazy about sports, working so hard to maintain his 4.0 GPA in mostly advanced placement classes, editor-in-chief of the nationally recognized school paper, and all-around nice guy - and the pressure that that brings on a kid.  I imagine him in this moment, and the hard work (for now) is done and has paid off with a regional championship.  And he's free.  He is young and free, and he wants to tell to his friends.

So, he pulls over and he and his friends are joking around and talking and hanging out, and they are young and free in this moment.

The whimsical youth of the moment ends when a homeowner comes out and is irate about the pranks and, though my brother had not been involved in them, he had the car and perhaps that made him seem to be the ringleader somehow.  I don't really know if that was why Adam felt the need to go to the door or not, but he did.  He decided he would walk up to the door, to apologize for being there and to offer to clean up the toilet paper in the yard, and he no longer felt young and free.  He was probably terrified that he was going to get in trouble.  So, he dutifully walked up to the man's door and knocked twice.

The man did not open the door and hear him out, he did not yell at Adam to leave, he did not call the police. When my 17 year old brother knocked on the door that night to have a hard conversation, he had a baby face and scrawny limbs and braces in his mouth.  And when Adam knocked twice on that door, the man gave no warning before he pulled the trigger of his shotgun, sending one, single bullet through the small window of his front door.

One bullet.

One bullet changed many lives, some lives even devastated.  But only one life was ended.  My only brother, my parents only son, my hero, my friend... the only person strong enough to jump on a trampoline with me on his shoulders, and the boy who led me to Christ, and taught me to dance like M.C. Hammer, and to be funny enough to joke my way out of trouble.  He was gone.

His murderer was in and then out of jail after only two years, for a boy's life taken in a rage over some harmless pranks.

Needless to say, when October rolls around I get stuck.  It is almost like my body involuntarily braces for a trauma.  The crisp fall air, the smell of leaves and bonfires... they are all beautiful reminders of fall, and nightmarish triggers that put my physical and emotional self on high alert, tragedy-ready.

So, here we are, heading into the 31 days of October, and I am 31 years old... outliving my big brother by 14 years.  I need to do something.  I need to be productive and I need to spend these 31 days focusing outwardly, or I will implode with my seasonal misery and depression.  So, I accepted a challenge, a plan designed to get out of my head and focus on other people.  31 days of kindness toward others.

I have no idea what this 31 day challenge is going to teach me.  And I have very little faith in my ability to stick with this.  So, this is me going on public record promising to let these next 31 days not be all about me, and all about memories and sadness and lost life.  Rather, I want to commit myself to honor all the good Adam would have done if his life had not been cut short.  I wanted to be just like him when I grew up.  Well, here is my chance... 31 is pretty grown up, so here goes nothing.

--

For my first act of kindness this year, I created and donated some custom-made hair pieces and costume pieces to a local ballet ministry appropriately named "The Life Ballet," which shares a message of life and healing to millions of men and women who suffer in silence in the aftermath of having chosen to have an abortion.  

The Life Ballet was written and created by Sandy Arena, who shares her personal story of having had two abortions herself, and has since devoted her life to helping women recover from the devastating effects many women experience after having an abortion.  Sandy and her amazing family have poured themselves into a mission that does not judge or condemn women for their choice but, rather, helps them find freedom, forgiveness and healing.

Being able to support Sandy and the dancers in The Life Ballet is kind of a perfect day one, because this month of kindness is about the same thing... finding freedom, forgiveness and healing.

My Life in Pictures

Below is a typical week in my life, told through photograph.  All of these pictures are things that I have witnessed and/or discovered in the past two weeks.  Some are self-explanatory and some are a little more "your guess is as good as mine" type of moments captured on camera.  

Whether it's Jaylen getting stuck under the furniture, the town's treatment of my newly seeded grass, London's antennas, or the evidence that I live with a tiny peeping tom, or if it's Harper's method of transporting clean socks to his bedroom... I hope you enjoy the beautiful absurdity that I am subjected to on a minutely basis. 

How to Keep Your Friends that Adopt

I have been dragging my feet about starting to answer all the questions, partly because I have been so busy and partly because there is plenty to write about just in my life in general - and updates are always easier to write than something topical.  But, alas... I will begin.

The first question I am going to answer was unique in that the person asking wasn't trying to satisfy any sort of curiosity, but was genuinely interested in better supporting adoptive families.  I don't think there is ANYTHING wrong with asking questions about adoption purely because you want to gain a better 

understanding of the whole thing... I love asking questions and I encourage others to do the same!  But I did like that this question was not for curiosity sake but for the sake of supporting others.

Before I get started, I would like to put out a bit of a disclaimer.  I do not speak for all adoptive moms.  I do not speak for all biological moms.  I do not speak for all women, or all Christians, or all hilarious people.  I don't speak for anyone but myself, and I don't even want that responsibility.  As it is, my opinion can change just on a hormone's whim... so I can't even promise that I will agree with me tomorrow.  So take all this with the tiniest grain of salt possible.  Maybe not even salt, but like... some sort of low-sodium salt alternative.  Just remember that if I write something ridiculous, I warned you to take my answers with a grain of Mrs. Dash.  Now, let's do this.

Question: How can people better support adoptive families?

My low-sodium answer:

1)  Celebrate!  When a couple announces that they are beginning the adoption process, react the same way as if they just handed you a framed sonogram picture, because that is pretty much what is happening, they are expecting a baby!!  This is great news guys.  Who doesn't love a good baby?  This is when you jump up and down, maybe cry a little and hugs all around!  This is not a time to list all your concerns or ask if they've seen the movie Losing Isaiah.  Just do all the normal "are you hoping for a boy or a girl? Do you have names picked out?" kind of stuff and just plan the freakin baby shower already.

Friends came to celebrate Jaylen's homecoming from NYC.

2)  Do Ask Questions!  Asking questions is a great way to gain more knowledge about the process, to undo some preconceived notions, and most importantly it is a great way to be involved in a wonderful and exciting season in the lives of the happy couple and to show that you care!  My guidance about questions is to frame sensitive inquiries carefully, and leave room for people not to answer if it is too private or too painful to rehash.  Just because someone announces that they are expecting via adoption, does not mean that they are ready to sign over a HIPA release to you. Simply avoiding assumptions (about their fertility status, reasons for adopting, etc.) and asking "The Google" first will clear up some questions that you may want to ask ("How much does it cost?") and give you a spring board to ask those questions in a better way. ("I read that adoption is really expensive, are you planning to do any fundraising?")  This shows that you care, you've done a little homework, and that you respect privacy enough not to be overly direct on sensitive points.  

3)  Do Share Your Reasonable Concerns.  Adoption is a complex issue, and the very reality that adoption exists is actually a tragedy.  Soo... it's very natural to have concerns or opinions on adoption, and it IS OKAY TO SHARE THOSE with your loved ones.  If you've followed tips 1 & 2, you've earned the right to share concerns, but remember that concerns are best received if you use adoption-friendly language.  Simply rephrasing questions like "Aren't you afraid that the kid will want to look for his real mom someday?" Or "Don't you want your own children?" to more sensitive language like "How will you prepare for the day your child decides he might be interesting in reconnecting with his biological family?"  Or "Has a desire for biological children had any impact on your decision to adopt a child?"  Just coming from a place of love and support is the most important thing.  When in doubt, start all questions and concerns with "tell me if this is totally ignorant, but I just want to understand..."  Chances are, you will blow it at one point or another, and a lot of grace is given to those who acknowledge the fumbling and/or to those who threw us a baby shower.  

4) Encourage.  Like a physical pregnancy, adoption has a lot of ups and downs.  Pregnancy has plenty of exhaustion, anticipation, fears and joys... adoption too!  Some pregnancies end in devastating sadness, yep... we got that too.  People say stupid things to pregnant women, holler back on that one.  Whether an expectant couple is growing their child inside of their body, or via the womb of another woman... they need a lot of support during this scary, exciting and life-altering stage!  Keeping the couple encouraged and uplifted will be of great importance, especially during long wait times or times when they feel a sense of rejection when they are not chosen.  Just a note of encouragement will do, but if you want bonus points... write a letter to their future child telling her how much her parents wanted her and longed for her and how loved she already is!!  When all else fails, plan another shower.

5) Consider Financial Support.  Adoption is ridiculously expensive.  Until adoption reform takes place, it is an extremely costly decision, and one that people often make because they feel a specific calling to adopt.  It is rarely a decision that is made because "We could afford it, so why not!?"  There are plenty of ways to help with the financial portion, even if you personally don't have extra funds lying around.  Simply hosting a fundraiser dinner in your home, or donating items for a fundraising garage sale, or spreading the word by sharing the link to their online fundraiser/auction... be creative!  The reality is that it takes a village.  Most people finance their adoption with some combination of savings, funds that have been donated, and ultimately an adoption loan.  These are usually low-interest loans that can take years to pay off.  We paid off our first adoption loan about one year before taking the second.  We have been very blessed with generous friends and family, and without them... We would have had to sell Tom in order to bring Jaylen home.  So, at least consider blessing adoptive families with bags upon bags of cash.  Trust me, if you do... they will still have to take a loan, but they'll love you forever and you will have the distinct blessing of knowing that you helped bring a family together.  Plus, if you are the controlling type... You can push for a least a middle name in your honor.

 Tom rocking the T-shirt we sell as an adoption fundraiser.

Voila!  Five steps to keeping your friends that adopt!  And more on this later, but it also really helps of you aren't a racist.  

Hearing the Whole Banana

Okay, so I had this whole blog post all typed up, and it was witty and smart and very insightful... and then, well, I erased it.  As you know, I'm a total quitter so losing a perfectly usable post made me throw in the towel.  I couldn't rewrite it, and I couldn't bring myself to write about something new, because that's just wasteful.  In situations like that, the most logical solution for me is to quit.  Well, I pout first, then quit.  Buuut, I'm back in the saddle because Laura Belden Cook threatened to take away my baby if I didn't.  

Please pray for her.

Speaking of my baby... I am so pleased to report that Mr. Jaylen is adjusting nicely to his new hearing aids (or his "helppity helpers" as we may or may not call them around the house.)  If you haven't checked it out yet, the video that I posted of him hearing fully for the first time is worth a look. 

It was such a precious moment to see him looking over his shoulder trying to figure out what and where that noise was!  The ride home from the audiology appointment was adorable.  I sat in the back of the van so that I could watch Jaylen's reactions, and it was so sweet to see him discover sounds for the first time.  He was trying to sit forward in his car seat, straining to see the cars pass.  It was as if he just realized that cars move and make noise!  I think this whole time he thought that we just get strapped into a silver box that shakes around for a while and then spits us out at grandma's.  

He seems confused by some sounds and excited by others, and placing sounds will probably be a bit of a challenge for a while, but overall he is adjusting very well.  

Originally, the audiologist told me to plan on doing nothing for two weeks except putting hearing aids back into my child's head.  In the two weeks following his appointment I had our annual Back-to-School-Girls-Only camping trip (Jaylen and his helppity helpers not included), getting the Harper ready to go to his first day of kindergarten, Marlie's birthday, the first week of school, adjusting all of them to a new schedule, tons of orders to fill (including a wedding), plus a zillion other things to do.  I wasn't sure how I was supposed to cancel all of that to solely be on hearing aid duty, but it all worked out because Jaylen has literally not touched the hearing aids one single time.  I don't know what it is about that kid but a) he's awesome and b) everything he does for the first time, he acts like its old hat.  He just plays it cool and acts like he's been doing this all along.

It's not like he hasn't noticed them, it's just that he is awesome at keeping them in.  We can tell that he is noticing a difference because he is responding to sounds that he would normally not even blink about.  The biggest and best difference is how vocal he has been!  He can definitely hear himself... and he likes what he hears because when those puppies go in, he jabbers and coos and squeaks and squeals like it's payin' the bills.  

It has been a fun, and relatively easy adjustment, especially because we won't really do much differently.  His speech therapist/teacher of the deaf still feels that continuing to use as much sign language as possible is going to be the best chance for him to develop language.     She also said the we are excellent students, very "motivated" and that I have *sensational style.  *The part was a lie, but the other stuff made me feel so good, I didn't want it to end.

Anyways, the nice remarks gave Tom and I the courage to really dig deep and learn how to sign an entire book.  Who cares if it's Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?  We can sign a whole entire book!  I actually made a group of children sit down and watch me perform, and I have to say... the two year olds dig my stuff.  

Okay, that's all I got.  Baby Jay got hearing aids, his first tooth, started crawling and pulled up to stand along the couch for the first time!  He can also sign "mama, eat, thank you, and jump" (he doesn't do any of them consistently or well, but he's just seven months old for pete's sake... what more do you guys want from him really!?) 

Above is the "speech banana" which shows all the speech sounds (letter sounds) that fall in the mild to moderate hearing loss category.  Without amplification Jaylen would not be able to hear anything on or above the banana. As you can see, his speech development would be very challenging without any of those sounds available to him.  You can't learn to speak by hearing a lawn mower.  So, we are thankful that he appears to be hearing everything in that yellow section... and, we believe, even some of those beautiful, soft sounds at the top that we take for granted.

When we brought him home with his hearing aids for the first time, we got him out of the car and he looked right up at the trees and watched with wonder as the leaves rustled in the breeze.  Every single appointment, the countless hours spent in waiting rooms, all the parking garage fees, and co-pays and specialists and tears and evaluations... the waiting and the stress and the wondering, all of it, every bit was worth it just to see the smile that spread across his face because he could finally hear the whole banana.

Video: Jaylen Gets Hearing Aids

Jaylen finally got his hearing aids!  As you can see here... he is very happy about exploring the new world of sound!  

  

Here is the video from Jaylen hearing fully for the first time.  

At Least My Neck Looks Good

I am already about to fall off the blogging-every-other-day wagon.  It's not that I wanna quit, it's just an absolute animal house over here!

I promised a long overdue update on Jay's health, then I bragged about how awesome he was doing, then I clicked enter, thennnn he got RSV.

So... This post may be a little short and a lot cranky.  Tom has been out of town for nearly a week and while he was gone I went to the doctor three times, to the grocery store two times and into my shower, only once.  This is particularly heinous because my face smells like dried pee because I read that using cold coffe like a facial toner is anti-aging.  It actually kinda works - my neck has pretty much gone back in time - but my face smells like I use a wet pull-up as a pillow, so that makes the results only so-so.

I digress...  Ahh yes, Jaylen.  So, it is looking like his brain has either mirculously healed, which I believe is totally possible, or the physical therapy he receives is allowing his brain to remap enough for him to catch up developmentally.  Either way, he can now open his hands on his own and he's scooching around like a total and complete boss man.  They are keeping an eye on a few areas that are lagging, but I am seriously not worried because he continues to blow my mind time and again.

We are all learning sign language, which has finally given me a legitimate excuse to forbid speaking... because, ya know, we gotta practice and all.  The kids are picking it up super fast and, so am I.  Jaylen has even signed mama, thank uou and eat!!  Really we're all naturals, except Tom.  

Not really, I'm kidding, he's doing sooo great!

 At learning slow.

Jay gets his hearing aids on the 26th and we are all pumped to the max.  Lots of peeps have requested a video of his response to using them for the first time... and I am happy to oblige, but what some of you readers may not know, is what my speaking voice sounds like.  One taste of that, and you will understand why jaylen's video will probably include a lot of desperate clawing at his ears.  

Okay, back to the horrible virus... His poor baby rib cage is retracting and he's pertpetually raspy and gaspy and it just breaks your heart to see.  I teetered on wether or not bring him to the ER over the weekend, but I feel like I am wrong every. single. time.  Honestly, I bring them in, certain they have dysentery, and it's "just a simple heat rash."  Or, I keep them home and they "need a blood transfusion."  (These are actually both REAL EXAMPLES of how poor my judgement is.)  Needless to say, I didn't get it right this time.  When I got to the doctor's office their original plan was to TRANSPORT HIM TO THE HOSPITAL  via AMBULANCE!  This might have been my wrongest one. Well, maybe second wrongest.  (See "needed blood transfusions" above.)

Anyways, he's not quite out of the woods, but mama's not messing around now... In keeping with my tradition of over correction, if he so much as sneezes  I'm taking him in. 

Well, I don't even know if this counts as an update because I am certain it lacks any sort of flow, grammar, or proper punctuation... But whatevs.  My face is pee-free, and I did. not. quit.  In my house, we call that a victory y'all.