Sage Milk

Who knows all the wisdom milk could share with us if we just took the time to listen. Perhaps, there is a scientific reason for this, but Noah and I believe that the jug was trying to speak to us. Sort of like Obi Wan sent his message to Luke through R2D2. Ian, perhaps, believed I should finish preparing his breakfast and cease staring at the talking dairy.

Connor

My wise mentor and friend, Carol Anne, explained to me that avoiding pain is not our chief purpose in life, although I find it a noble and worthy goal. Unfortunately for me, the story of Connor involves my sadness, but my grief should not overshadow this story.

Through our first foster parenting experience, we were connected with Connor last week at the hospital where he was born the week prior. Seeing him for the first time, confirmed my theory that biology is not related to love, whereas I fell straight to the bottom of my heart in love with this little 4 pound miracle. We spent Monday through Thursday with him at the hospital as often as we could, where we also developed some beautiful relationships with the nurses who claimed Connor as their peanut mascot.


We took him home on Friday where Grizz and Dot Com (30 Rock reference alert) became his entourage. The boys read to him, sang his favorite Star Wars and Transformer theme music, fetched toys for him, fed him, snuggled him, tried desperately to get as many germs on his paci as possible and watched his every move in the bath, diaper changing table and bassinet. Seth had man-time while bonding over soccer watching, pre-dawn feedings and long cuddling sessions. And I tip toed on my cloud of baby bliss, and gratefully loved on a baby without the nuisance of leaking breasts and body image issues (more than the normal ones), but all the rewards of a sweet, tiny life. At the hospital, I was fortunate enough to meet both sets of grandparents. His amazing paternal grandma and I had an in-depth conversation, so we were prepared that Connor would not be at our house for too long. But it was still heart-wrenching when I was notified on Monday, while buying groceries, that he would be heading to Grandma’s house on Tuesday. The ham lady must have thought me quite sentimental about my deli meat.


Yesterday afternoon we delivered Connor to his precious new home. (Yes, I ball and I type). They, too, are already in love with this little man, which is the huge consolation to my empty arms. I don’t know how I could survive a parting if I wasn’t positive that he was being as treasured as he deserves. Although he had a rough start, he is now completely enveloped with trustworthy, caring and loving big people.
So here’s what I’ve gathered from this amazing experience (and as you probably already noted, this entire post is indulging myself for therapy purposes): Kind people tell us often what a wonderful thing we are doing for a baby in need, but the joy that we receive from Connor is insurmountable. Many have said, “I don’t think I could handle foster parenting” (and since this was our first time, I wasn’t sure either). We were able to spend an entire week (which seemed closer to a year) with someone we completely adore. I’ll try to avoid adding Garth Brook lyrics to this post (think, “The Dance”), but my lesson is that the time we have had with Connor outshines, overshadows, overcomes the ache of my heart. The satisfaction has nothing to do with make-believing I did a noble deed, but that our family was so richly rewarded with being a part of Connor’s life.

Where do we go from here? As I said, Connor’s grandparents are incredible people and have graciously offered to keep in contact—and they are the kind of people who mean it (Grandma ALREADY e-mailed me pictures of him). Right now we are absolutely taking each day as it comes and praying for wisdom for our next step. And above all, we are praying for Connor’s glorious future and counting the blessings of being a part of his beginning.

For more videos, check out:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SqGCtXVaH1I
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dewEGz52xLg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I6ggDXnbruM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zGsInwppb3c

The Toddler's Ski Trip

In my excitement of baby news, I neglected to relay the riveting details of our ski trip. Seth and I drove to Steamboat Springs, CO, at the end of January, while Grandmom (Seth's mom) kept the boys entertained for five days (there's a special place in sainthood for you, Gmom).

While on this trip, I realized just exactly how much I am like Ian, my two-year old:

1. I need many movies or hours of conversation on a car trip to keep me from being fussy.


2. When Seth would pass me on a ski run, I felt like poking him with my ski pole or falling down (which is a gift of mine, anyway, while skiing) in a heap and shouting, "Me first, me first".


3. I'm always better behaved after a lengthy nap and a delicious snack.


4. I handed my ski pole to Seth so he could help me fix the handle strap, and I immediately grabbed it back and said "No, I do it myself. MYSELF!!!!!!!!".
   
5. I need LOTS of verbal affirmation and am not afraid to request it. For example, "Seth, tell me how much I've improved since yesterday" or "Seth, say, 'Awesome' and 'Great job' while you pass me" (if you forget to praise Ian after using the potty, he will respond, "Say, 'YYYYAYYYYYYYYYYYYY' to me" or after he uses the words please or thank you, "Say 'GOOD MANNERS!' to me".)


6. I am not afraid to do things unconventionally:

Ian eating olives:

Jenni practicing before going to Colorado (yes, this is in my driveway):

Here is where Ian and I differ:

He is MUCH more adorable in goggles than I am (in your comments, please say, "Jenni, you look FABULOUS in goggles and ski wear.")

Ian and I both also like LOTS of pictures to be taken at any event (or non-event):

Seth standing still--he did this A LOT while waiting for me to get a bit down the mountain:


It was VERY rare that I saw this angle of Seth:



A rare moment of uprightness:

And, again:


Beauty on the slopes:






And here we are at a fancy restaurant at the top of the mountain, looking like touristy, ski bums:


Abe and I contemplating how youthful and sculptured he looks for his 200 years:


Both contemplating how neither had a choice in sitting on this bench:


I'm sure it's hard for locals to recognize tourists, when they're taking pictures in front of large mounds of snow:


My favorite ski trip activity:


One of the many creative activities that Grandmom prepared for the boys, was mapping out what Mommy & Daddy would see in Colorado. She copied photos of landmarks to share with the boys, including the famous "Rabbit Ear Motel" landmark. And no, we did not sleep here. That's me, in the looming shadow:


And for your mocking pleasure, more of my driveway skiing adventure. One of my favorite comments on FaceBook regarding these pictures was a friend who asked if I had installed a ski lift. My answer, is no, but I'm putting it in our January 2010 budget:


Skiing off into the sunset (toward the mailbox):

And if you just can't get enough of my family, please review the following videos. One is of Seth singing: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cr4u1yAeDS0, and the other is of Noah reading to Ian (the key for entertainment is to keep your eye on Ian): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YmTDIMU9314&feature=channel_page

We're Expecting!!!!

And these are some of the people who are helping to make it happen...

Will, our DHS intake specialist

Angela, our home study specialist

Sofia and Sydney, our foster/adoption classes teachers

So for those of you who haven't already grown comatose from my endless chatter about this journey we are on, we are planning on fostering a baby. So here are some answers to some FAQ:

Why are you doing this?
Before we had our biological children, I told Seth that adoption was something God had put on my heart for awhile. I always wanted to be pregnant (if that was an option) and I also wanted to adopt. Seth was amazingly on board and has been for many years. My feeling is children are like a nice, cheesy pizza: I don't care if I make it at home or if it's delivered to me, I just want it in my house (do you think my children will appreciate this analogy?).

Are you doing this because you want a girl?

Actually, we're requesting one of the male variety.

What age baby do you want?

We have requested a child that is 0-2 years of age. We want to keep our birth order.

Are you adopting or fostering?

We are on the foster parent track, which means the goal of foster parenting is to reunify children with their birth parents. But, if that is not an option, then we are open to adoption.

What do your boys think about this?

They are ecstatic! Noah understands completely that a baby is coming to stay in our house and that he may stay for a little while or he may stay forever. Ian understands that the baby will be here to laugh at his many offerings of entertainment and that he will like to drink milk.

When will this happen?

We started the process in September and became official in December, but we requested that we begin receiving calls for placement in February. We already have received a call about one baby, and while we were in the process of deciding, they found a relative placement for him. So, this could happen tomorrow or a few months from now--it just depends on God's perfect timing for the child that belongs in our family.

Why is it, Jenni, that you work out all the time, but yet, you never, ever look like you do?

Chocolate cake.

Missing Shirts, Sleds, Sleep & Miss Indiana

After bringing in the mail, Noah noticed this picture on the back of a catalog. He asked, "Why is her shirt not all the way on?" Then he said, "Maybe she lost it."

Noah and Ian are enjoying our current ice storm in the following ways:

With a sled:

Without a sled:


Pulling the sled:



With the Abominable Snowman:




With hot chocolate:

Here are some friends and I at a Miss America party, where we did lots of jeering and jabbing at all of the ladies. Just imagine what we did when the Miss America pageant began:

And I do LOVE my Sunday School class more than a HUGE brownie with ice cream, caramel, chocolate, whipped cream AND a cherry. Here are the SS ladies last weekend at our church's Women's Retreat:

Please look closely at Perry's face on the left. Her name is really, Christi, but we need nicknames in our SS class, because all the ladies' moms in my SS class believed titling their daughter Christi, Kristy, Kristi (or Keri or Carrie or Kristen or Connie, etc), would really help set them apart:


Here we are in the hotel weaving humorous tales of our children's fascination with body parts, functions and sounds (we also ate lots of chocolate and stayed up WAY past sunset):