Being Four and A Half Is Fun...especially when the weather's good!

It's so fun to be four (and a half) on a nice day! You can write with chalk..."Hi Daddy" and greet Daddy when he comes home from work.

Collecting rocks is great fun too...and you have to have a box to put them in. Some rocks are speckled, some sparkly, some smooth, and some rough. They are all unique and fun to collect! Don't ask me what I'm going to do with them. I just want to put them in a box and add more on another day. Every little girl, or boy, needs a rock collection!

Just Hanging Around

Sometimes it's good to just stay home and watch snow fall. You can play games, read, play with Play-Doh, paint...oh, wait...we do all that every day!

School Time

We love homeschooling. We don't know how long Marissa will learn at home, but it works right now, so we'll keep going with it! I just love looking at her in her little school desk (present from Uncle Fred).

With her late September birthday, she's actually another year out of kindergarten, but it's a great opportunity to get our homeschool schedule down. We've been consistent for over a year now and we're not tired of each other yet...

It's Our Day

Grief is silent. Yet, sometimes you know it's lurking, ready to pounce before your counter-attack is in place. Sometimes, you are ready and it doesn't come.

I've been ready for the pain of loss all week. Today is your birthday, Jaime.

The days leading up to this one have been terribly hard at moments. The grief would come when I didn't even know I thinking of you. I knew today would be full of thoughts of you, and I thought I would wake up crying, maybe soak my pillow with fresh, warm tears that would cleanse me and bring me close to you for a short time, then allow me to conduct my day without fear of the silent attack that can close my throat so words cannot escape, because the pain of never seeing you again is so great.

But, although I awakened early, and of course my thoughts were on you, there were surprisingly no tears. I received a birthday gift, though. I smelled you again. It was fast, gone in an instant, and not as strong as the day before you died, but it was real and even though I've only been awake now for almost two hours, I've smelled you three times this morning.

Because I keep smelling you, you feel very close. God is giving me this gift.

Now the tears are coming.

Jaime, I say it is our day because, as all mothers know, it may be your birthday, but it was my "birth" day. Birthdays of my children are always full of such precious memories for me, memories that bind us, made us, and in some ways define us forever. Today I know that I will always be "Jaime's mom."

I found a poem the other day that I want to post. It was written by me at 17 years old, when I was pregnant with you. I was so scared and had so many questions, but I knew I wanted you and that you would be a precious gift that I couldn't even begin to comprehend yet. I was right.

Although you are young,

so very young that the human eye

has not yet caught sight of you

and your survival depends on

My body, mind, and soul

I can already begin to imagine the changes

my life will soon go through

You, so small, delicate, and helpless

A fragile piece of my loved one and myself

Are already felt inside of me

Stirring, kicking, yearning to be free

To become the independent person

You will someday be

Each time you move

The love I feel for you grows stronger

And stronger

Yet you, so small

so totally helpless,

totally harmless to anyone or anything,

scare me more than anything

I've ever imagined

I want only the very best for you

To be strong, healthy, and normal

For what else could I wish

For a part of myself

and the person I love the most

Who joined with me to create you,

A truly spectacular miracle

in small form

When you arrive

we will continue to band together

To help each other become

stronger day by day

For you will teach us

About life, all over again

Hopefully someday

We will make you proud

As you will make us,

On the day you are born

And placed in our arms.

Jaime Kay, you were always proud of the relationship your dad and I have. We were always proud of you. You were "our girl." Your memory will always be part of everything our family is, and does, now and in the future.

The poem was written by me, but it sure feels like I was a different person. It was so long ago, and yet, seems like just a few days ago. It's not a literary piece by any means, but was introspective and real and helped me feel closer to you, just as writing this piece for you does now.

I love you.

Smile, Jaime, smile. Walk with Jesus today and let Him tell you of the love we still have for you. Let Him tell you of His love and plans for you now. "He knows the plans He has for you, plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future." I don't believe that the Lord's plans finish when we die, Jaime. In many ways they are just beginning. I know His plans are greater and more fulfilling than any we ever had for you. You're free to fly now, to soar! Happy Birthday, Pretty Girl!!

More Reflections

Marissa is really on a Mulan Reflections kick! Here she is again as she reflects in our bathroom. By the way, every time she doesn't look at the camera, she is looking in the bathroom mirrors at herself.

Decorating For Easter

What fun it is to decorate for Easter when you are four and a half!

Today I'm Four and a Half!

Marissa is the youngest of most of her friends, so it makes sense that she has been WAITING for the "four and a half" mark to hit. Well...today is the day!! She's officially four and a half years old today!! Almost everyone we saw today heard the news...mostly people she's never met before, who shared the joy! Now you can, too.

"Reflections" by Mulan...I mean Marissa

Here is our little camera ham singing "Reflections" from the movie, "Mulan." This isn't even the most expressive she's made it. This version is actually toned down.

Such A Helper

I truly have never had a child love to help as much as Marissa does! I'm not naive enough to think it will last, however... Just as I said with the post on doing dishes, I'll take the help while I can get it. Marissa mops so well that I don't even "redo" what she has mopped. Each week she mops under the kitchen table (It's a lot easier for her than me) and she mops the entryway, too. What a great helper she is, and as you can see, she works with a smile.

The Pain and Joy of Memories

Memories were thick as I walked the land at your grandparents today. Oh, Jaime, we spent so much time there when you were a little girl. Everywhere I looked I saw, felt, and mourned for you.

There was your bridge...the joy you felt when Grandpa built it and made the engraved wooden sign with your name hanging by it; the garden...the way you helped Grandpa plant potatoes when you were about Marissa's age and he turned around to watch you follow behind him, throwing all the potatoes in the air like a juggler; the shed...the fun you had when Uncle Randy's dog had puppies; the tractors...how you loved to "drive" them with Grandpa. Oh, Jaime, you are so loved. Our love covered you as you grew; His love covers you now.

I wish I could hold you one more time...I want to hear you tease "You're choking me" when you hug me, I wish I could hear your voice saying "I love you, little Mama," I wish I could come across one of the notes you used to leave for me to find telling me how special I was and how much you loved me. I want to laugh with you and play around, saying dumb jokes no one else would get but us... I miss you.

Jesus really does cover me with His love, His comfort, His supernatural presence...and I am SO thankful. But I know He is allowing me to grieve right now. I know He understands and will get me through. Because even Jesus wept...and He's holding my tears in His scarred hands. I love you, Jaime. I love you, Jesus. Thank you for the time we had with her.

Dance Practice

Here is a snapshot of Marissa at dance class. Also included this time is a video of Marissa hard at work...before dance class begins the girls do their "foundation training," (their abs and stretches). Marissa usually doesn't look this serious, but with the camera ready, she showed that she was deep in thought and training hard. Actually, it stuns me to see our girls doing abs. I felt like we (the adults) should all be on the floor working out with them. Maybe one day Miss Lily will turn the tables on us and make us join them...I hope not! I think the girls do much better than we could. By the way, I'm dedicating this blog entry to Marissa's friend, Todd. He wanted to see more Marissa videos, so here you go!

Yes, She's Mine and I Love Her Fiercely!

I love to talk about adoption; I love encouraging mothers to follow the stirring in their heart to add another child to their family, the one that grew in their heart, instead of their womb. As a mother to three, two biological and one adopted, I know there is NO difference in the love felt toward each child. There is not one of them I wouldn't die for, not one I love any less than the others.
I guess that's why as Marissa grows older, I am getting less patient, less tolerant of strangers stopping me at the store and asking ignorant questions in front of my daughter. My daughter is a person, and although she's as cute as a poster child, she isn't one, isn't a mannequin, isn't a mindless twit who can't understand a word they're saying. My daughter is a very intelligent and sensitive person, which of course makes her accutely aware of what is happening around her. She is a child shaping the image she holds of herself and the world at each moment.
When someone approaches us at the store and wants to know if she is adopted, I want to know if it is any of their business. I think in the future any ignorant person (realize I stated ignorant)who dares to ask me this type of question in front of Marissa will get the first response that dares roll off my tongue.
Last week a saleslady at Dillards asked if Marissa was my daughter. When I told her "yes," she gave an expression of surprise and stated that she must look like her father. The ignorance and total lack of tact is what really got me, but the more I thought about it, I really was appalled that people have to even ask or state stupid comments. Marissa listened intently as the woman continued. I have to add that I realize that she also listens just as intently to what and how I answer. When the woman commented that she must look like her father, I just smiled. Later, she said other things I found just as annoying, and also added with a questioning and confused look before we left, that Marissa had an "almost asian" look to her.
For those who may be reading and do not know me, I usually love to talk to people, love to meet strangers, but I think it's time to realize that Marissa has heard me explain her story many times, not only to her, but strangers, friends, family, etc..... She realizes nosy and ignorant people when she sees them, too. Part of teaching her, liberating her to be comfortable in her own skin and family includes her learning that she doesn't have to tell her story to everyone either. The day will come when she will be the one people ask and she needs to know that we don't have to discuss her life with everyone or anyone who has a curiosity - ignorant or not. Maybe someday when someone asks us something we don't want to answer we can ask them if they were born vaginally or C-section. Or maybe we can ask something else that isn't our business.

Polly Pockets - A Girl's Best Friend

Welcome to Polly and Marissa's world. That is Polly...as in Polly Pockets.

For the last few months or so, Marissa has been heavy into Polly Pockets. To tell the truth (I never would have guessed this), Polly Pockets was actually good therapy for both of us after Jaime died.

Many of Marissa's conerns and thoughts have come out while engrossed in the world of Polly, as her dolls voiced fears and thoughts rolling around in her mind. Mama's dolls got to answer and counsel Marissa's.

Through the stressful days immediately following Jaime's death, Marissa's world was not normal. We did as much as we could to keep a structure and give her attention, but her little world was severely changed. There were many days the first week that I had promised her we would play and we sometimes ended up in the playroom at 9:30 at night to do it. But, with all the free counseling these little dolls bring, I'm all for Polly Pockets. We still play almost daily. Welcome to our miniature world!