Tube Socks Make it Better

They don't get friskier: My Oma and Pops, months before his passing.

Tomorrow would have been my grandfather’s 86th birthday. Holy cow, I miss that looney man--he was my best buddy. One of the adoring things about my Pops was that he rose before the sun. I was devoted to sleepovers at his house. My little pink slippers would get packed in my Snoopy suitcase and off I would go, anxious to attempt to wake before he did (never won that game--he was a farmer boy). I always slept so well there--felt so secure in the little bedroom that seemed like my own.

My first weekend at Oma and Pop's house, 1978, helping Pops with his gardens.

I wish that for Sosi--that she will have the delight of grandparent sleepovers. We are still working hard on sleep around here--far, far away from sleepovers at this point. I haven’t reported on it in a while because every time Sosi seems to hit a groove she un-grooves herself; and because it's not fun to focus on the frustrations. But here’s the honest deal: I am SO TIRED of planning life around details surrounding sleep.

Looking back to where we were in the fall, Sosi has come tremendously far. Our good days far outweigh the bad and the fight-or-flight thrashing rarely happens anymore. But what I consider good seems to be by comparison what others consider eh. She now naps for (hopefully) one hour during the day; and when I refer to her sleeping through the night I mean that she now only wakes a few times before falling back to sleep. But who likes to see her child waking up screaming (it’s never been crying, mind you--it’s always sheer screaming out the gate). Sometimes I find her wailing with her face down, still asleep. Those nights make me especially sad on many levels.

I will share that these are not ordinary she's just not a great sleeper issues. There are details in Sosi’s history that are, and will always remain, private and for her ears only. But some of the information we have explains why sleep is so challenging for her. For this reason we do the best we can; and we ask for patience from friends and family while we continue to focus on supporting her. Others typically don’t see the hysteria--that is part of the difficulty--her badger cries (as we affectionately call them) are unleashed mostly when she is in the comfort of her own home. Donovan and I recently sought help from the Institute for Children and Families. They specialize in attachment and trauma issues and have been a wonderful resource for us in this department.

Our cute sleeper in her early-morning get-up: kitty pj's and tube socks.
Note the like mother/ like daughter squat. Love it.

We still miss church more than I want to and I’ve turned down far too many invitations. It took us 7 months before we could leave her to go out (geesh--do we need more of that). We feel consumed by sleep; and though our efforts are paying off it’s a work in progress. It’s left us feeling isolated at times but we are starting to come out of the woodwork. So when you ask me how sleep is going and I answer “great,” it may be because I am just too dang tired to give you the whole story; and sometimes it’s just easier to paint with a glossy stroke.

Bug Luv

Last week Noemi melted down when Donovan smashed a spider in the kitchen (mean daddy). Earlier this week Noemi brought me a carpenter bee squeezed between her fingers while happily announcing "bee!" After frantically getting her to drop it, I realized it was already dead. She cried a river over that one, too (mean mommy). Now she is making friends with our resident stink bugs and we've decided to foster these relationships. She is a lover of all creatures great and small.

Latest Skillz

Sosi learned how to blow bubbles all by herself this past week. She's so proud of herself; and I couldn't be more smitten by those lips. Can't get enough of watching that pucker. Go ahead, watch it twice if you must--I know she's freakin' cute. Let me preface the out-of-control hair: I had just taken out her piggy tails. I think it accentuates her awesomeness.

A Candle for Enat

Donovan and Noemi surprised me with this photo today, enlarged and framed, for a wall in our home. Geesh, I really adore my talented and thoughtful husband. And geesh, do I adore my cheery girl.

Today is my first Mother’s Day. I had a nice day with my dear Noemi, even though we ended up skipping church because she is a must-be-getting-sick mess today. I stopped counting the meltdowns after 20. Honestly, I was happily content to have her wiped-out-self sleep on my chest (something she only does when she is sick--it’s a sure tell sign). That was a beautiful gift, aside from her not feeling well (poor baby). It gave me time to focus and pray for her, and be cognizant of the blessings of being her mother.

Because she was such a bear, she ended up going to bed before Donovan and me were able to light a candle in honor of her first mother. This will become a Mother’s Day tradition for us--lighting a candle for Noemi’s first mother and singing a hymn that we chose for this occasion each year, Go, My Children. It is a hymn I have sung to Noemi many times, always thinking of her birth mother when I sing it. It chokes me up every time. I picture Jesus singing it to Noemi. I picture Jesus singing it to Noemi’s birth mother. I picture Noemi’s birth mother lovingly singing it to her beloved baby girl before saying goodbye.

Go, My children, with My blessing, Never alone. 

Waking, sleeping, I am with you; You are My own. 

In My love's baptismal river I have made you Mine forever.

Go, My children, with My blessing, You are My own.

Go, My children, fed and nourished, Closer to Me;
Grow in love and love by serving, Joyful and free.
Here My Spirit's power filled you; Here His tender comfort stilled you.
Go, My children, fed and nourished, Joyful and free.

I the Lord will bless and keep you And give you peace;
I the Lord will smile upon you And give you peace;
I the Lord will be your Father, Savior, Comforter, and Brother.
Go, My Children; I will keep you And give you peace.

-lyrics by Jaroslav Vajda, written as a Benediction.

Enat is Amharic for mother, and it is what we have decided that we will refer to her birth mother as so that Noemi has a name for her. I am her mommy; but Enat is her birth mother. I believe it is important for her to have a name so that she lives on. I have everyday to celebrate the wonder of being Noemi’s mother, but today we will pause to meagerly attempt to honor her birth mother and the sacrifices she made.

Keepers

This weekend was one of hanging out with some keeper friends. You know, those friends that transcend different phases of life—the ones you know will just be in your life forever. The rock-steady friends. How fortunate I am to have them in my life.

Olivia, Noemi, Julia and Greyson, post Slip-N-Slide!

On Saturday Noemi got a chance to run on the Slip-N-Slide with the cutest crew on the block (too bad we changed her before the group photo-op—she looked so dippin' cute in her bikini).

Baby Olah is almost here! Awwwww yeaaaaah!

The next day we celebrated soon-coming baby Olah at his/her baby shower. As you can see, Noemi has started preparing herself for play dates with her future buddy. What a fantastic weekend with our keepers!