best mothers day ever.....again

Dear little girlies of mine.

Thank you from deep inside my heart for calling me mummy. Thank you for making my heart whole and for giving my life purpose. I thought I knew what it was to live life but I knew what it was to go through the motions of living. Now I LIVE life and revel in each moment. I savour the small things and celebrate our victories. I can't wait until tomorrow because I know it holds an adventure just waiting to be seized.

I laugh loudly and cry freely. The day I met Lily my heart moved to the outside of my body where it has remained, in  an extremely vulnerable state, only to become even more vulnerable with the arrival of you, Rosie, a few years later. Things that I once would have shrugged off now touch me deeply.

I just read an article written by a mum who just lost her 5 yr old son and she called herself a helicopter parent, she was proud to be one. After reading her sad sad story all I can say is that being a hovering Mum is an honour. I have been accused of the same but all I can say is no one knows how much I wanted and longed for you, no one knows what it is like to live here in Miami (unless of course they actually do) where kids are sexting at age 10 and how I am trying to protect you from things that I don't want in your life. From creeps and substances. This is your childhood and it should be void of certain things, you will learn all that in time but not now little ones not now.

Your proud little faces when you came into my bedroom this morning carrying not one but two trays, with my breakfast, brought a huge smile to my sleepy face. The toast in different shades of burnt, because you know I like my toast done, was so sweet. I loved how each piece had something different spread on it, something that each one of us would love, just in case I wanted to share. We giggled as the crumbs fell into the bed and you tried to spread them about so they would not be so prickly. It was logical to you.

I asked what you wanted to do today because without you I wouldn't be celebrating anything today, I would be sad. I threw out some ideas of things I thought would be fun but could tell you were saying yes for me and then I thought of something we would all love and love it we did.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for making me, me.

 I love all the way there and back and then a little bit more too.

Love always,

Mummy.

This is how we spent our day. More on it tomorrow. 

A kryptic post

Approximately 5 yrs ago I met a priest who came over here from China to study for his Doctorate in Philosophy of Practical Theology. He is a Catholic priest and as you know being a catholic priest in China isn't something that is accepted. I am not Catholic and do not care organised religion but this man won our hearts the very first time we met him. I am not going to call him by name here  or mention any names at all that can be linked to him directly.

Over the past five years he has spent a lot of time around my girls, they love him dearly and he has spent a lot of time in my home and today we went to St *** University to watch him walk. He wasn't going to do it. He didn't want the attention on him, it isn't like him to be the centre of attention but thankfully someone knocked some sense into him. He is a very humble man. We are going to miss him so very much.

There were many graduates at the university today some with Bachelors, others with Masters but only one received his doctorate and he did so a year early.

the only photo under that heading in the program

we were so close to the stage but it was easier to take photos from the jumbo tron.

Getting ready to walk 

A doctor and a priest.....but still first and foremost a humble and kind man.

Finally, a little pomp and circumstance here in Florida

Congratulations, we are so proud of you and so very happy for you yet we are so so sad to know that you are going to be leaving and going home. We will miss you very very much. Thank you for everything you have shared with the girls.

Becasue of this man I have also had a Chinese Bishop in my house...crazy huh? Yes I know hanging out in my house and wearing shorts! That is nuts.

Come h*ll or high water.

Since having her cast removed and being given the all clear to swim with both arms kidlet has been in the pool twice, TWICE. That is pretty sad. The pool has been closed more than it has been open due to inclement weather.

Rosies' favourite coach has taken a sabbatical due to a family situation and has been replaced by Coach Kim. Lily hadn't met Coach Kim until tonight. The intro went something like this, Hi, you must be Rosie's sister. Yes I am. When do you swim? I swim with Coach Vlad but I have just been out for 7 weeks cos I broke my arm and now the pool is always closed because of lightening so I don't get to swim. (insert pathetic face). Well you can swim with me now if you would like. Can I Mummy? If you want to.

Coach Kim and Coach Casey split the littles as they need a lot of eyes on them but tonight since the sky was threatening no one showed up and it looked as if Rosie had 2 coaches to herself. Lily hopped in the pool and got a private lesson with another Olympic Coach. She loved it. Coach Casey took over with her and gave her one on one instruction until some more kids showed up, she was in heaven. Lily has been very down since returning as she has lost so much stamina and muscle mass. I have been working with her and we have been following a strict protein rich diet.....it is all helping. Tonight she proved that she's working hard and that she's still got it.

I took the camera because I wanted some shots of her post arm but she spent ages with the flipping kick board again. Finally she tossed it aside and started really going for it. Coach pulled her out of the pool and worked on her form and the next thing she was flying. She is one determined little kid this one. She has no lofty aspirations she just needs to be the best that SHE can be.

So sick of that kick board

Hi Mummy...I can see you.

Kicking it up a notch.

My favourite stroke

I love how she tucks her head. 

This is a new technique tonight, Coach Casey changed the angle of her arms and how far she is tucking her chin.

I just like this shot. Plus you can clearly see the muscle mass on the right and not the left.

Just because. And looky, the little pickle can finally wear Speedo goggles. Wahoo. No more babyish goggles for my girl.

And just because life is never dull, little one came out of the pool tonight and complained that her ear hurt...A LOT. and she was still complaining after her bath. We have been to the pediatrician already once this week. She was there on Monday with sores on her throat and tongue but her ears were clear.......then. I was told to come back in 2 days if the fever didn't go down or the throat got worse. It didn't. I put her straight to bed. I figured I'd let her get a bit of sleep as I am guessing we might be in for a long night if her ear decides to really really hurt :(

Dryland

Two nights a week before swimming Lily has dryland training, or as we like to call it, DRYLANDIA, and we always say it in a very theatrical voice. This is what she was doing when she broke her arm. I never get to see what she does at Drylandia because I am always at the pool with Rosie and Drylandia takes places out on the track.

This evenings swim practise was cut short due to lightening somewhere in the distance but it didn't stop Coach Vladi from working them out on the track. Rosie and I went and watched.

One thing that people have always said about Lily is that she is always smiling and when I downloaded the photos I saw that smile immediately. I couldn't see it from where I was as she was a long way off and I had to zoom to find her.

A crawling relay.

little Miss Chatterbox

Laughing her head off!

I enjoyed watching her train, it was great to see her doing something other than swim. I was not happy to see her bare foot though. we had a long talk about that and I don't think it will happen again. I think I told her just about every single possible disease and ailment you can contract from being barefoot outside. Eeeewww.

I was going to save this for Mothers day but i just can't, it needs to be shared. It showed up this morning on my Facebook page and it is fantabulous. Even with all the warnings that came with it about getting a tissue I ignored them all and I still read it whilst outside the girls school waiting for them to be dismissed. It was silly, very very silly. I looked like a right twit, blubbering away. If you are an AP heed my warning and get a tissue.



 Written by Kathy Lynn Harris ——————————————————————————————————————

Dear Moms of Adopted Children

Posted on May 7, 2013

First, a quick note: I wrote this piece after reading an essay written by Lea Grover in theHuffiington Post, titled “Dear Less-Than-Perfect Mom.” The post by Lea was wonderful, and it made me think about us moms who found our sweet babies through adoption, and how we face unique challenges. I hope you enjoy it, whether you are the parent of an adopted child or not. Happy early Mother’s Day, everyone.

——————————————————————————————————————

Dear Mom of an Adopted Child,

I met you in adoption education class. I met you at the agency. I met you at my son’s school. I met you online. I met you on purpose. I met you by accident.

It doesn’t matter. The thing is, I knew you right away. I recognize the fierce determination. The grit. The fight. Because everything about what you have was a decision, and nothing about what you have was easy. You are the kind of woman who Makes.Things.Happen. After all, you made this happen, this family you have.

Maybe you prayed for it. Maybe you had to convince a partner it was the right thing. Maybe you did it alone. Maybe people told you to just be happy with what you had before. Maybe someone told you it simply wasn’t in God’s plans for you to have a child, this child whose hair you now brush lightly from his face. Maybe someone warned you about what happened to their cousin’s neighbor’s friend. Maybe you ignored them.

Maybe you planned for it for years. Maybe an opportunity dropped into your lap. Maybe you depleted your life-savings for it. Maybe it was not your first choice. But maybe it was.

Regardless, I know you. And I see how you hold on so tight. Sometimes too tight. Because that’s what we do, isn’t it?

I know about all those books you read back then. The ones everyone reads about sleep patterns and cloth versus disposable, yes, but the extra ones, too. About dealing with attachment disorders, breast milk banks, babies born addicted to alcohol, cocaine, meth. About cognitive delays, language deficiencies. About counseling support services, tax and insurance issues, open adoption pros and cons, legal rights.

I know about the fingerprinting, the background checks, the credit reports, the interviews, the references. I know about the classes, so many classes. I know the frustration of the never-ending paperwork. The hours of going over finances, of having garage sales and bake sales and whatever-it-takes sales to raise money to afford it all.

I know how you never lost sight of what you wanted.

I know about the match call, the soaring of everything inside you to cloud-height, even higher. And then the tucking of that away because, well, these things fall through, you know.

Maybe you told your mother, a few close friends. Maybe you shouted it to the world. Maybe you allowed yourself to decorate a baby’s room, buy a car seat. Maybe you bought a soft blanket, just that one blanket, and held it to your cheek every night.

I know about your home visits. I know about your knuckles, cracked and bleeding, from cleaning every square inch of your home the night before. I know about you burning the coffee cake and trying to fix your mascara before the social worker rang the doorbell.

And I know about the followup visits, when you hadn’t slept in three weeks because the baby had colic. I know how you wanted so badly to show that you had it all together, even though you were back to working more-than-full-time, maybe without maternity leave, without the family and casseroles and welcome-home balloons and plants.

And I’ve seen you in foreign countries, strange lands, staying in dirty hotels, taking weeks away from work, struggling to understand what’s being promised and what’s not. Struggling to offer your love to a little one who is unsettled and afraid. Waiting, wishing, greeting, loving, flying, nesting, coming home.

I’ve seen you down the street at the hospital when a baby was born, trying to figure out where you belong in the scene that’s emerging. I’ve seen your face as you hear a nurse whisper to the birthmother that she doesn’t have to go through with this. I’ve seen you trying so hard to give this birthmother all of your respect and patience and compassion in those moments—while you bite your lip and close your eyes, not knowing if she will change her mind, if this has all been a dream coming to an abrupt end in a sterile environment. Not knowing if this is your time. Not knowing so much.

I’ve seen you look down into a newborn infant’s eyes, wondering if he’s really yours, wondering if you can quiet your mind and good sense long enough to give yourself over completely.

And then, to have the child in your arms, at home, that first night. His little fingers curled around yours. His warm heart beating against yours.

I know that bliss. The perfect, guarded, hopeful bliss.

I also know about you on adoption day. The nerves that morning, the judge, the formality, the relief, the joy. The letting out of a breath maybe you didn’t even know you were holding for months. Months.

I’ve seen you meet your child’s birthparents and grandparents weeks or years down the road. I’ve seen you share your child with strangers who have his nose, his smile … people who love him because he’s one of them. I’ve seen you hold him in the evenings after those visits, when he’s shaken and confused and really just wants a stuffed animal and to rest his head on your shoulder.

I’ve seen you worry when your child brings home a family tree project from school. Or a request to bring in photos of him and his dad, so that the class can compare traits that are passed down, like blue eyes or square chins. I know you worry, because you can protect your child from a lot of things — but you can’t protect him from being different in a world so intent on celebrating sameness.

I’ve seen you at the doctor’s office, filling out medical histories, leaving blanks, question marks, hoping the little blanks don’t turn into big problems later on.

I’ve seen you answer all of the tough questions, the questions that have to do with why, and love, and how much, and where, and who, and how come, mama? How come?

I’ve seen you wonder how you’ll react the first time you hear the dreaded, “You’re not my real mom.” And I’ve seen you smile softly in the face of that question, remaining calm and loving, until you lock yourself in the bathroom and muffle your soft cries with the sound of the shower.

I’ve seen you cringe just a little when someone says your child is lucky to have you. Because you know with all your being it is the other way around.

But most of all, I want you to know that I’ve seen you look into your child’s eyes. And while you will never see a reflection of your own eyes there, you see something that’s just as powerful: A reflection of your complete and unstoppable love for this person who grew in the midst of your tears and laughter, and who, if torn from you, would be like losing yourself.

morning commute

Many people dread their commute to work everyday and that is understandable as for most it means nothing more than being stuck in traffic for hours at a time. I am not one of those people. Fortunately my commute to work changes depending on the day of the week, it never involves highways and typically I miss rush hour by hours.

I sit in traffic, if it is going to happen, for 5 blocks and then I zoom off of the main drag and take the back roads to where I am going. i really don't care if it is a couple of miles longer becasue if the view is a pretty one and the traffic is light I am one happy camper. My alter ego comes out while I am drivng so pretty is always good.

I get to see some things that always make me smile. Some I call the familiar strangers, people that you recognize because you see them over and over again but don't actually know: the bare foot asian man who is always walking near the Falls, the man who walks a really big ugly dog, that just happens to look like it's owner. I even recognise some cars because of the crazy paint job on them.

At least 3 days a week I see these. Sometimes they hold up traffic, other times they give me a heart attack as they kamikaze out of a palm tree slightly ahead of my car and occasionally they intimidate me, as they gather in the driveway of a clients house, sometimes numbering upwards of a dozen and I am convinced they will attack me.

I count my blessings to see them on a frequent basis. Whether they scare me or just walk by they always make me smile in the end, how can you not?

But without a shadow of a doubt the thing that makes me smile the most on my commute is this: It is a lousy photo cos I was at a red light and it changed just as the bus got close enough. It was raining this morning but usually the dogs are all sticking their heads out of the window. You can't help but smile, really you cant. This doggie Bus has been featured on television and even in National Geographic Kids. My girls were thrilled when it showed up in their magasines. All those waggy tails and flapping ears just makes you happy. I think my brother in law should get a school bus instead of his plain, white, ever so English looking, white van. Yepper, I love my commute.

How does she do that?

This is my BFF's daughter Carolina. If you don't listen to the entire song please, please, please fast forward to the end and listen to the note that she ends on and then listen to the audience go wild. My camera doesn't do her justice but I think you will get the idea.



Last night was her final recital with Miami Childrens Theatre. She was accepted to all but one university that she auditioned for which is not a surprise to me.

Jakie and I were sitting next to each other and Edder was on the other side, none of this noise is from us, these are just other members of the audience that were blown away by her too. She absolutely blows me away every single time I hear her sing.

From this, to this

From this,

To this.

For quite some time I have been trying to think of a way to display Lily's swimming medals and ribbons. I have searched the internet and scoured pinterest. If I liked something she didn' and vice versa. A few weeks back I saw a plain old wooden board with some hooks in it and the word, Swimming, stencilled on it. It was nice but not $40 nice. I showed it to Lily and asked her if she wanted to make one. She has badgered me since that day to buy the wood but I kept forgetting.

On Thursday we were coming home from the supermarket and we noticed the handyman working on a fence, I swung the car over and asked him for one of the nasty old fence planks. He gave it to me willingly. We came home and as I unloaded the car of groceries Lily wasted no time and grabbed her tool kit. She checked the specs of the one on the computer and decided to change them slightly and then she set to. She did the whole thing herself with only some guidance from me. I was NOT allowed to help.

Removing the nails

Measuring

cutting

sanding

painting with the base coat

Adding the words for the reversed stencil

top colour

removing the stickers

bling

hooks

even hangers on the back

ta da. 

Her grandpa taught her how to use power tools when she was over there last summer, or the one before. She is very careful and knows what she is doing. I am really impressed with what she made and now she is going to make one for Rosie too. I am a little concerned that my fence might suddenly fall down as she decides to make more and more of them!

Cast off

Tomorrow will mark 7 weeks since Lily broke her arm. Today she finally got to say good bye to her orthopaedic doctor, her casts, her splints and her brace. She is through.

The final xray shows a slight line in the bone but Dr. Cautious said that she is good to go. He told her that she can swim again and has only one restriction, no tackle football. I guess he got to know her quite will over the past 7 weeks!

She doesn't even need P/T. I am so happy that it is all systems go. I think she was starting to get a little crazy.....time to set her free.

Love the dirty looking tan line. Oh you know me so well, yes I did try to wash it, just in case!!

Nasty looking grody thing

It almost looks bruised but alas it is a tan.

If you needme I'll be at the pool. She cannot wait to swim. I actually can't wait to see her.

seconds, re-runs, repeats

This should have been part of yesterday post. I saw this photo this morning and realised it was excluded and I don't know how since it is probably one of my all time favourites of Rosie.


The sun was was bright that I couldn't actually see what, if anything, I was taking photos of hence the missing arm but I love her great big smile. I also know that her face is saying brr, it's a bit cold Mummy.

Waves

Yesterday on Facebook a friend posted that they went to the beach for the first time this year. It inspired me and so this morning I threw that very idea out to the girls and they dashed to get ready. I was concerned that the water would still be much to cold.....for me. I was sure that I would be at the waters edge begging them to be careful and come a little closer to the shore. I was wrong, the water was a still freezing a smidge to cold for me but I was brave and went in with them anyway.

This is the time of year when our water is the clearest and the bluest. The closer we get to summer the scummier our water gets. The tropical storms and hurricanes churn it up and fill it with weed and stuff. Now it is a beautiful colour and quite clear. Today we even had waves which are rare here.

Stunning, no?

Manic swimmer on the beach

Oh dear lord there are 2 of them

After you. No, after you.

It's cold

Run for the land

fooled you, I'm not going in, ha ha ha 

Eventually they both went in

and then they both got out and Lily started to dig to China

and Rosie played with the sand

Oh yes I do.

We went to lunch today with the girls Goo Goo or as I call her Chicken Feet. We of course went to a Chinese restaurant and she of course ordered off  menu before we even got there. I think I ate the best Chinese food that I have ever had and judging by the amount of times the girls were heard asking for more I think they might agree. We eat at this restaurant all the time but I never order from the "Chinese" side only the American Chinese side of the menu. Lee me say, those days are gone.

I don't ever think I have seen either one of the girls eat quite so much before. As Chicken Feet would serve something to Rosie she would say, I don't like that, it is her standard line but I don't listen, EVER. I always tell her to try it, with each taste she would say, Oh yes I do. The only thing she didn't really like were the Singapore Noodles because of the curry but she ate quite a lot of them anyway. I actually feel a bit guilty that we don't eat more Chinese food as they are after all Chinese and I know that they love it. Heck I don't even make rice cos I can't stand the stuff so on the odd occasion that we order food and it comes with rice they go hog wild. That's terrible, I deprive my Asian kids of something they love and I believe crave.

Yes I am aware that they left China at a very young age but believe me, it is innate. They love authentic Chinese food and would woof it down like a dog if it were permissible. Since I don't think I will ever manage to replicate it in the kitchen I will just have to make visiting Silver Palace a regular occurence.

 Hah, Daddy/Grandpa, you wouldn't have believed your eyes.

Chopsticks and a fork. 

Nice manners Missy.

Even Rosie had plate after plate

Rosei adn her Goo Goo

Happy girls with full tummies

We really did have so much fun and then we came home and Lily and I tackled the problem of the ageing front door. It took us three, yes sadly, three trips to the hardware store but we got it right in the end and now I no longer need a new front door. I didn't all along I just thought I did. I needed weather stripping, the big rubbery kind. We had a great time ripping the old stuff out but not such a great time finding the replacement. Yeah, probably should have got it first but I thought we had but it wasn't thick enough. Suddenly the gaps around my door were big enough to let a hippo wander in not just a lizard.

No worries it is done now and tighter than a you know what!