Almost Done

We are grinding away towards the end of school. I'm not sure if the kids are more, or less, excited than I am. It seems like everyone is in a final rush to fit things in. My counters are cluttered with papers to sign, field trips to pay for, and my inbox is a steady stream of details to be ironed out. Yesterday, I noticed bits of paper sticking out of open spaces in my purse. It was an eclectic collection of to-do lists scribbled on envelopes, half finished grocery lists in folded up rectangles, and receipts that need to be recorded.

Orchestra

Chloe had her first "real" concert. All of the 5th and 6th graders in the area schools came together fot a joint concert. She's the cutest little cellist who spiced things up by adding a little tremolo to her song, something she learned from her brother. Her cello is almost as big as she is, and every Tuesday and Thursday, she heads off to the bus stop in her Bombur outfit: cello on the back, backpack strapped to the front, and a folded music stand on the side.

flowers from daddy

Leadville

We drove out to Leadville to watch this guy play some soccer. The other team's coach was a long haired hippie sort, laid back and leathery. He was wearing shorts and a sweater, in contrast to all of us lowlanders, who came decked out in layers of North Face, gloves, hats and blankets. The coach had spent the week shoveling the snow from the field so they could play. And since the referee was in Ukraine, he officiated the game and let his boys coach themselves. Aidan scored the most beautiful goal. Just past mid field and far over on the right, he launched a shot into the upper corner of the net. The parents were all so stunned, we didn't realize it was a goal, because we didn't see how he could have made that shot. In the span of an hour it alternated between gorgeously sunny, snow, and hail.

Hiding from the camera

Chloe's loving playing club soccer. She's a fierce little whirlwind and has scored in all but one of her games, a couple of times from mid field, sending the ball in the air, over a crowd of defenders. Aidan's been giving her slide tackling lessons because she really, really wants to slide tackle someone.

A Staff, Snake, and Brownies

When Moses was confronted with the burning bush, and the voice of God telling him to go and lead the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt, he was a little resistant. He had several logical reasons about why he wasn't a good choice, and why God should choose someone else, and what if no one believes him.

 And so God asks him, "What's in your hand?". Moses replies, "A staff".

(This is my favorite part...) Then God gives him instructions to throw in on the ground and it becomes a snake, which freaks Moses out, and he runs away until God tells him to reach out his hand and pick it up by the tail, and it then becomes a staff again.

The thing that I love so much about this is that I imagine Moses giving his objections out of his own insecurities and then God says, "Fine, what's in your hand? A stick? Great. We'll use that then, so you will know this isn't about you anyway."

This idea "What's in your hand?" is beautiful to me. That rather than feeling insufficient for what we don't have, or who we are not, we can just run forward with whatever we're holding in the moment, because it's not about us anyways, and trusting that God can move in our lives as He chooses.

On the outside

When I jumped into the contest for Dream Jobbers and needed to create a social buzz for votes, I looked around and thought, "What's in my hand?" The answer was brownies and 8th graders. Aidan trotted off to school with a lunch bag stuffed with homemade goodies. Soon enough, we had quite a following. Some became so dedicated that they obsessively checked my progress, and created multiple accounts in order to cast a vote for all their family members.  Some people (who shall remain nameless) created accounts with names that could have only come from an 8th grade boy, and left comments with spelling errors and enthusiasm for my awesome skills. Voting spiked at Angevine Middle School's lunch hour. I discouraged plots to sabotage other contestants, offers to hack the system, and schemes to boost my street cred with falsified claims about my ability to cure cancer.

World Vision ended up picking someone who had in his hand some sweet videoing skills. Whatever. I still made some kind of impression on the tender hearts of children. In fact, just the other day, Aidan came home with a request from a friend who hadn't seen baked goods in a while. "When is your mom going to try to go to Africa or something again, so we can get some more food?" Brownies matter too, take that, video guy.

Fluffy, the broody chicken

In conclusion, here is a picture of a broody chicken. This is an example of a sweet, small brained, shy little hen, turned into a crazed velociraptor that chased the German Shepherd around the yard. Proof of what hormones can do.

Ginger Black Pepper Cookies

You know those food blogs that promise a recipe and then make you scroll through 25 pictures (sometimes artfully photographed) of their food, and short stories about everything under the sun, until you finally reach the recipe? That annoys me. Cut to the bottom line, as my dad used to say. Give me one beautiful, picture to see that it looks yummy, and the goods. Seriously.

In fact, I'll even go first. Here's a recipe for my new favorite cookie: (Adapted from "The Kitchen Ecosystem" by Eugenia Bone.)

cookies for all

Chewy Ginger Black Pepper Cookies
2 1/4 C flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp freshly ground cloves
1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1/4 tsp cardamom
1/4 tsp salt
2 heaping tablespoons of grated fresh ginger, or 2 tsp ground ginger
12 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temp
3/4 C sugar
1 egg
1/4 C molasses
Raw sugar

Preheat oven to 350. In a large bowl, combine flour and spices. (If using fresh ginger, wait and mix in with butter mixture.) In a separate bowl, beat butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Adding one at a time and beating well after each addition, beat in egg, molasses, and fresh ginger (if using). Add flour mixture and beat to combine. If you cannot roll into little balls without it sticking to your fingers, add up to 1/2 C more flour.

Place raw sugar in bowl. roll dough by heaping teaspoons and then roll in sugar. Place on baking sheet 1-2 in apart.

Bake 8-10 min.

And there we are, short, sweet and to the point.

Blue Funky

There's a creative blue funk I'm sitting in right now. I keep waiting for it to go away, but it seems to be lingering, leaving a lack of creative motivation as its calling card. All of my usual jump starts are not jump starting anything, and I keep making coffee only to leave it sitting untouched in the mug. The only creative juices that seem to be flowing are in regards to how to next email Aidan's teacher.

There was nothing else to be done, but to head to the florist and gasp in sticker shock buy plants, because putting things in order makes me perfectly happy, and quite frankly, the front yard looked like an overgrown beard begging for a trim. I've conquered my fear of the weed eater, no doubt inspired by my brothers' dire warnings of chopping my legs off. I also have an irrational fear of spiders that can be laid at their feet.

The good news is that I did not chop my legs off, and my favorite part of weed eating is making crisp tidy lines around the sidewalk. Instant gratification.

pansies & creeping thyme

We finished the day with Sicilian Pistachio gelato because today was officially the end of science fair. The board is packed up, and ready to be made into a dressing room or whatever other creative use Chloe will dream up. And since we survived with minimal scarring, no complete meltdowns, and all of our hair, I consider it to be a raging success.

And as a side note, we couldn't even view the winning project because the dad was standing in front explaining everything to a captive audience...

Science Fair and Therapy

I dread science fair more than my kids do. They pick a topic and then spend the weeks leading up to the finish line forgetting about it, but I know what's coming.  Looming over my head is the deadline, the crying, the arguing and fit throwing, and that's just me. (Kidding, sort of) Aidan is possibly going to need future therapy for his 5th grade science fair project. That was three years ago and the events of that last weekend leading up to project completion are still convulsing in his memory.

I'm so over the need to "help" my kids with their projects while casting sideways looks at the other parents' boards who were also "helping". It's a cutthroat science fair war out there, and I'm out. Now I look at it as more of a character building experience. "It has to be done, but nobody wants to do it, it's fine if it stinks, but it has to be your best effort, and sometimes in life you just have to do things that you don't want to do."

This year was much more relaxed, now that we worked out some of the kinks on Aidan. Chloe picked a topic and Chris was assigned the job of being her support team. As the resident engineer, after about 3rd grade, all of the math and science things are automatically dropped in his lap. A little time out to talk about engineers. They are perfectly wonderful, and I adore mine thoroughly, but they do have a certain complex way of thinking. They can be sometimes like a Rube Goldberg machine taking ideas from point A to point B. (This might be the moment when Aidan starts twitching)

UNphotoshopped

Imagine this: Chloe is on the computer creating a spreadsheet to graph her electrical output from her lemons and potatoes, Aidan is not at all helping by continually offering his memories of science fairs past, and I am lecturing Chris about exactly what it means to be a support team as opposed to a project manager. And then, the science stuff is all done, and now it's time for design. At which point, I stop lecturing my husband, and start project managering the photographs and painting (Chloe stopped me from photo shopping her pictures)... See? Character building.

The cutest little scientist

Petrichor: the pleasant earthy smell after the rain.
Vellichor: the strange wistfulness of used bookshops.

There needs to be a special word for that euphoric, blissful feeling, when the science fair project is finished. Or I guess, we could just say that it's ineffable: too great to be expressed with words.

The Swing of Things

We've been trying to get back in the swing of things over here. Spring has come and brought a change from winter rest to spring busy. So, in the midst, I'm working out how to not let busy define us. Here's a few glimpses:

The Trebol Terminators

Somebody cute and feisty has switched focus from tae kwon do to soccer. The girls had their first game last Saturday, and they came out of the gates like champs. Chloe scored once and also had a beautiful save as goalie. She's been telling me, "You're my mom, not my coach". Which I'm taking to mean, that she wants me to cheer for her wholeheartedly, and not to notice if she doesn't do something correctly. Fortunately, I'm only assistant coaching now, so I can leave the hard stuff to the Actual Coach.

Trebol Green

This guy has finally found his wheels, and it's super fun to watch. He's becoming quite the leader on, and off, the field.

eTown Hall

Getting ready to perform

Aidan had a performance at Impact for Education's award ceremony. They played Imagine by John Lennon. Aidan has dress clothes that he never wears and only brings out at these sorts of occasions. And he's growing, quickly. Which became rather apparent when his pants had risen to levels to escape a small flood, and his shirt prevented him from lifting his arms. Fortunately, you don't need to lift your arms to play the cello, and he was wearing cool stripey socks. But now we know, that we need to literally have a dress rehearsal that takes place sooner than an hour before the show.

The Treats

We had to watch from the downstairs area, on a big screen tv that didn't actually have sound at first, and then only in parts. But Aidan looked awesome playing his cello. The good part was that it put us right by the lovely treat table, and those chocolate covered pretzels that look like pencils were quite tasty.

The end for now.

Tattered Wings pt 2

I couldn't finish the story. I was stuck. I tried to think of the ending, just the way that I wanted it to turn out. But the truth is that we are still in that place by the side of the great water, looking at the water and wondering if we have the strength to keep flying.

Let me back up a little, this whole adoption journey has been much more taxing than my Anne-with-an-E self enjoys. I'm a sprinter, I like to see the finish line from my beginnings. Run hard, turn left. I like happy endings, ones with a nice tidy bow, where everyone ends up where they belong. I like sunshine and rainbows, and answers.

We thought we had our answer several times. The last time, we were giddy with anticipation. We'd been frustrated with the lack of communication etc from our agency, and contacted another local agency (with great reviews) that also worked in Bulgaria. After the briefest of communication, on the phone, they asked if we would mind switching gears and considering two sisters from Guyana. They were the right age, both our kids jumped on board, and get this, their names were Destiny and Devine. It felt absolutely perfect. They sent over a picture and we fell in love, all of a sudden. All we would have to do was transfer our home study and within months, would be expected to bring them home. We said YES, less than 24 hours after they asked us. Then, nothing. I sent emails, waited, nothing.  Weeks went by and I asked for a meeting, and I heard, "Yes, we'll get back to you". Nothing. Again.

Now I was getting more and more frustrated. We finally pestered enough and sat down for a face to face with the founder of the agency, at which point, we heard, "Oh, the girls are already spoken for by a family further along in the queue". Are you freakin kidding me? But she cheered us on, sorry that we had had difficulties to that point, and declared that sometimes people just had issues for no apparent reason but now, things were going to be different. We decided to go ahead with the Guyana program anyway for a bunch of reasons that fit us. Until months later, after more radio silence, we find out that they discontinued the program....


Meanwhile, our enthusiasm for Bulgaria had lost steam as the projected time to completion stretched from 3-5 years, becoming more entangled in red tape, and the frequent switching of our social workers. So we decided that we might limp to a different program, only to discover that our agency had lost the contracts to work in the other country we were interested in...

So we put all of our stuff on hold while we waited to hear back if our agency won the contract to work in Brazil. They assured me they would get back to me as soon as they finalized in January...

And then there was quiet.