Hello, tweeny rollerblading boy passing by on the street, your speed and effortless awesomeness have me captivated. What's that, you say? I'm so cute? Oh, and you are charming as well, tweeny rollerblading boy.
Hey, wait! Don't go! You can't stop, pay a girl a quick compliment and then casually resume skating. Don't you see me wanting to chat for a while?
My sister’s fantastic boys, Alden and Kincaid, came to stay with us for a weekend sleepover--we’ve done this multiple times a year since they were wee tots in diapers. We have no intention of stopping now that Alden is a teenager…too bad, guys, you’re stuck with us. And we promise not to talk about how cute you were in diapers.
In an attempt to merge toddler-appropriate activity with cool, we scratched paint-balling off the list and decided to trod off to our friends’ dairy farm to check out their milking operation. We knew Noemi would get a kick out of all of the cows and what 11-year-old boy isn’t fascinated by stepping in poo and seeing a cow’s utter hooked up to sucking machines? While we were there a heifer went into labor with her calf, so we were witness to the whole eye-googling process. Couldn’t have timed our visit better. The boys ooed and aahed when our friends, Nelson and Alma, tied rope around the calf’s hooves and gave it a big ‘ol heave-ho until that baby came dropping out of the cow. I’ll spare you the video, but believe me-- it was amazing. The boys didn’t stop talking about the goo that accompanied the big moment and Noemi has said “baby out” and “Alma farm” probably 200 times so far this week. I think that calf made a big impression on all of us! And now…introducing baby girl heifer “Sunsosi!” Isn't she cute? Alma named her after Sosi, and added “Sun” on the beginning of the name to tag her as part of the “Sun” family (Sunshine, I believe, may have been the mamma cow?). Sosi’s first heifer…how sweet! Thanks to Nelson and Alma for showing us the ropes of dairy farming--we loved every minute of it!
Check it! If you are a white mamma with such fine, straight hair that her perm fell out after 4 days in the 5th grade (who, me?) and you now have a black child with tight, fantastic curls that leave you feeling terrified, double check it...
Hot dang. I feel a renewed confidence in our family. I‘m not sure which variable or combination thereof has been the agent of change, but D and I have been parenting a completely different child in the last two weeks. We feel like we are meeting parts of our daughter for the first time--seeing new pieces of her personality and a new comfort level with us emerge. It’s like her little world was one festering wound that came to an oozing head last month. We had a few weeks of some freaky popping action and now it’s healing. Before our eyes.
Sosi has been giddy happy (previously mentioned badger cries be gone), spontaneously affectionate and (dare I say it) sleeping like a dream boat. Her night terrors, which used to wake her multiple times a night, have only reared their heads a few times in the last three weeks. She’s now snuggling into me before going to bed in a way that she has never done, making her calmer and better able to fall asleep. She’s nuzzling her face into my neck and pressing her cheeks against mine in an adorable, droopey-eyed “drunky with affection” kinda way. She has begun taking a bottle prone on my chest, nuzzled up to me like an infant lays splayed on its mother’s chest, as opposed to us doing the awkward cradle position dance. It’s like she finally wants to be closer to me--on me--against me--she pushes and nuzzles like an newborn roots for nursing. It’s so strangely and beautifully infantile. The whole thing has had me crying more than once this week. And then--to take the cake and make my heart swell with elation, she kissed me. After 10 months and 23 days of being with me, Sosi gave me her first unprompted kiss. In fact, there were three of them in a row. She held my cheeks in the palm of her yittle hands while she laid on the smooches. Eye contact. Smile. Slow smooch. Return to neck nuzzle. Repeat. *insert cheesy epic moment music here* Sure, she has typical toddler tantrums and moments of over-stimulation, but we have not felt like we have been living in the tip-toe world of gorilla-inspired meltdowns and sleep deprivation of the last 10+ months. I'm sure we'll have set-backs...we're certainly not out of the woods yet, but this feels sooooooo good. She’s been playing with more purpose and is giggle-pants silly, vying for our attention. This has energized us as parents. And let's be frank, we are all happier when we have a decent night's sleep. It has made us grateful. I’ve been praying to have a grateful heart through all of the muck and mire (which, frankly, has been wicked hard); and it is so refreshing to feel authentic gratefulness flow. You mean, this is what it’s like to have a happy child and not plan my every move around our, um, er, issues? This feels so...so...normal. I think she is telling us that she knows we are her parents. And that her fear is starting to dissipate. And that she can relax and enjoy our life together. And that she is beginning to feel safe enough to fall asleep and stay asleep, knowing I will be there when she wakes up. And that she is starting to trust that I will come home. Because “mommy always comes back.” (I’ve said this for 10 months and I can see that it’s starting to click.) Please, God, may I always come back to her. And that she is starting to believe that Donovan and me are her home.
Donovan and I wanted to have a piece of art created for Noemi to commemorate her joining our family--we've been planning this for over a year but we finally had it executed in time for her first Adoption Day. We met with print-maker and friend, Tim Hoover, as we have always enjoyed his fresh, punchy and smart work. We commissioned him to create a piece for Noemi that would express the meaning behind her name. We chose to name her Noemi (a form of Naomi) because Donovan and I felt drawn to the Biblical story of Ruth and Naomi. It is a story of commitment and sacrifice, love and dedication. Naomi leaves all that she knows to travel to a new land, all to be with the person she loves. "Where you go, I will go. Where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die, I will die and there I will be buried." Ruth 1:16, 17
Donovan and I have this passage above our bed in the ketubah we had made for our wedding ceremony. We also had it inscribed in our wedding bands. We felt it only natural to extend the meaning of these verses to our daughter and the people of Ethiopia. When thinking about what to name her, we kept coming back to the idea of her name representing "your people will be my people." She has become ours and we have become hers--and with that union comes intentional commitiment to joining two peoples--two families--two cultures--two races. She left everything behind to be with us, and we are now indebted to her people for their sacrifice--the gift of her.
We pitched this concept to Tim, and this is what he created for Noemi...
Shazaam--you nailed it. Thanks, Tim, it couldn't be better. After years as the creator of a design agency, The Infantree, Tim is heading to MICA in Baltimore for graduate school this fall, but he will continue to work his magic with commissioned screen prints for anyone interested. He can be contacted by emailing him directly at timothyhoov@gmail.com. Come on--you know you wanna. He's gotta find a way to pay all of those school loans, eh?
Tim, in his studio with some of the screens he created to make the print.
The final product.
Honestly, what an amazing piece for Noemi to take with her as she grows and moves and makes relationships with new people in her life. We are mindful of the sacrifices you made to be our daughter, baby. Thanks, Tim, for commemorating it all for us.
Sosi came up to me while I was sitting on the couch, put her arms around me, snuggled her head into my lap and said with a soft smile on her face, "my mommy." First time. Thud thud, thud thud, thud thud (that's my heart swollen with love). Hanging on to the little things that are really so, so big.
Before I dig into this post, let me just comment on my last post...
I was stunned by the supportive emails that I received from many of you--thanks for your kind words of encouragement. Perhaps I'm turning a little bit crazy these days (OK--maybe a lot crazy) but please know that no one is performing exorcisms in this here part of town. I'm just a worn-down mamma who decided to share a vulnerable moment with the public in the name of keeping it real. I'm not training in fire-throwing. I'm not juggling swords. I'm just embracing the depth of my relationship with my daughter and looking to keep the forces that surround us from above. That may have been the most out-of-character thing I have done in a long time, but a mamma's gotta do what a mamma's gotta do and I'm not backing down from it. For what it's worth, Sosi slept without one night terror for 7 straight nights. Now, onto the real reason I am posting today...
Wednesday was Sosi's first official Adoption Day--the one-year anniversary of the day we legally adopted her through the Ethiopian courts. Has it really been a year? We decided that this would be a special day for specifically celebrating her Ethiopian heritage each year. When we were in Ethiopia we bought one gift to give Sosi each year until she is 18--we have a trunk of goodies in the attic that we'll have to hide in future years. What better to give her on her first Adoption Day than a traditional Ethiopian dress? How flippin' adorable is she? I spent hours on youtube fiddling with my white-girl "locks" in an attempt to learn the art of head-wrapping so that I could dress her up in the matching head scarf, but no go on that dream. Sosi wouldn't let me come near her with that thing despite my efforts.
We went to the park and had a mini photo shoot with our photographer friend, Billy Scanlan. It's refreshing to have photos of the three of us together. Since Donovan is a photographer, we so rarely see Daddy-o come out from behind the lens --thanks, Billy!
because everybody loves an out-take
After getting her white cotton dress dirty, we feasted on Ethiopian food for dinner. The Ethiopians at the restaurant were eager to see her chow. I was a embarrassed that Sosi was not into it even though her regular diet consists of lentils, lentils and more lentils. She's becoming increasingly picky as her toddlerness progresses, so it's no surprise that she put her nose up to our shared plate of goodness. What she did like was the fresh mango juice--she slurped down two large glasses like nobody's business and called it a night. Oh, happy day!
Hello, tweeny rollerblading boy passing by on the street, your speed and effortless awesomeness have me captivated. What's that, you say? I'm so cute? Oh, and you are charming as well, tweeny rollerblading boy. 
Hey, wait! Don't go! You can't stop, pay a girl a quick compliment and then casually resume skating. Don't you see me wanting to chat for a while?
"More, more, more!" "Boy, boy, boy!" (to actually quote her)
Come back, tweeny roller blading boy! You've left? You're not coming back? NoooooOOooooOOooOoooOOOOO!
