Madelyn's Big Week

What a week it's been for our sweet Madelyn Grace!  Monday, September 9th, marked her first day of Kindergarten at Chief Joseph Elementary School right behind our house in North Portland.  She did amazing, not that I would've expected anything less.  She eagerly and confidently walked into her brand new classroom knowing none of the other faces and reached out to another little girl, Grace, who was having a hard time saying good-bye to her parents.  "Hi friend!" she said.  "Want to come over and sit by me?"  I might've made it out of there that morning without crying had I not witnessed that interaction; my heart literally ached with pride.  

Tuesday, September 10th, then marked her 6th birthday.  We greeted her first thing in the morning with a candle stuck in a marshmallow singing Happy Birthday and gave her a silver necklace with an "M" charm and her birthstone.  Before we even left for school that morning, she said "I still feel 5, Mama."  I giggled internally and wondered what pivotal moment will make her "feel" six.

Then, quite unexpectedly, Maddie lost her first tooth on Thursday, September 12th.  It's been loose for awhile but got really loose really quickly -- like, gross loose.  I knew it was ready to come out, and in a sudden burst of maternal confidence, I suggested that we just pull it before it fell out on its own and disappeared.  My arms literally felt shaky as I reached into her mouth; I mean, the whole thing is totally disgusting, right?!  Teeth just fall out of our mouths.  Blech.  But I did it and it came out and Madelyn was super excited.  And, oddly enough, of the three momentous occasions this week, the lost tooth makes her seem the most grown up to me, perhaps because it dramatically alters her appearance.  She lisps slightly and keeps sticking her tongue in the empty space, and it's freakin' adorable.  The Tooth Fairy paid a visit and left a dollar bill sprinkled with pink fairy dust.  

Phew!  What a week.  We are all exhausted, but we've survived and even thrived.  

One more quick thought:  in the book The Help (one of my top-5 favorite books), one of the characters, Aibileen, whispers the same words over and over again into the ear of the little girl she cares for in an effort to burn them into her psyche and counteract the damage of her neglectful mother -- "You is good, you is kind, you is important."  I immediately loved that (for many reasons -- read the book if you haven't already!) as it solidly resonates with my training in child development that the words we say to our small children become their internal dialogue and shape the way they begin to view themselves.  That's an enormous amount of pressure, and I have felt the weight of that responsibility every day for the last six full years.  But it's also a privilege, yes?  So in the same spirit, I began whispering my own mantra into my children's ears the day Maddie started Kindergarten:  "You are kind, you are brave, and Jesus loves you."  No doubt they will grow very tired of hearing me say this to them, and in their tween years they might even shrug it off or say with exasperation "I know!!!"  But words are powerful, and my prayer is that this very distilled mantra will become the foundation of their identity and the key to the map of how they will conduct themselves in this world.  And if that's the only thing they'll ever remember their mama saying to them, I'll feel pretty good about that.

First Days

Henry Finn, age 2 1/2, on his first official day of pre-school at Portland Christian School.  He will be in the same classroom with the same teacher (Miss Malou) that Madelyn has had for the last three years and we couldn't be more pleased.  He has been dropping sis off and picking her up from this classroom since he was born, and it's now finally his turn to stay.  He was a bit anxious this past weekend and said several times "I don't want to go to Maddie's school; I want to go to Henry's school."  I reminded him of the two motorcycles in the big bin of various vehicles that I always had to pry from his fingers when it was time for us to leave, and whadaya know...he perked right up.

It was a good day.  Drop off went well, Miss Malou reported that he did a great job through the day, and he ran at full speed across the playground with a huge smile on his face when I arrived to pick him up.  But here's what I will say about my (albeit limited) experience with "first school days" thus far: they are a mind v. heart battle regarding the illusion of safety and control in our children's lives.  My heart started to quiver as I drove away from him this morning thinking "Will they watch him closely enough on the big playground?  He's still so small.  Will he get any hugs?  Enough smiles?  He's very different from Maddie...with they just compare him to her all day long?"  I called Kurt.  My voice shook a bit as we talked, but I never actually cried.  I know, of course, that the reality is that I have very little control over the safety (physical, emotional, or otherwise) of my children.  God gives us our brains and we are to use them, but to think that I can be smart enough or organized enough to create a world where my children are immune from danger or fear or anxiety or loneliness is emotionally depleting and spiritually lethal, for both me and them.  We have had three fabulous years with Portland Christian, and I trust them completely with my son's small spirit.  I don't know exactly what words they will use with him throughout the day or how close they will stand to him on the playground, but despite what my heart wants to fear, I know he is in excellent care.  And next Monday when I leave Madelyn for the first time at her new school where we do not have three years of trust built up, I will (do my best to) choose to trust her and her bravery and confidence and kind-heartedness and honesty.  

Enough Already

Well let's see.  The last post I wrote was back in May.  Nearly three months ago.  That's the longest I've gone without posting since we started this blogging adventure, and, of course, I feel guilty about it.  Sigh.  I may never learn to just be gentle with myself.

After so long and such a fantastic summer, it would be fitting and appropriate to post a bunch of photos of all that we have done and update everyone on what the kids are up to and how we are preparing for our eldest to start Kindergarten and our youngest to start Preschool.  I'll get to that one of these days.

Right now I need to vent.  Like, rant and rave and hope to Heaven that this thing that is eating me from the inside out right now can get consumed and leave me be.  More than anything else, writing is wholly and completely cathartic for me.  I write and edit and rewrite and edit in my head all day long.  But that doesn't fully do it for me.  I have to actually see those words on a page and send it out into the universe.  Release it.

So here it is:

I have officially had enough of being other people's punching bag.  I accept that we are all a punching bag on occasion just as we are also all the one doing the punching on occasion.  I just know that right now, this moment, I can't take any more punching.  I feel so stretched and pulled as it is that to then get emotionally socked in the gut repeatedly at seemingly every turn for stuff that's all about someone else and not about me just feels plain icky and hurtful.  My kids punch me all day long.  Totally normal, I know, and in a somewhat twisted way I'm honored that I get to be the one person on this earth that they trust enough to keep loving them after repeated emotional abuse.  I understand how the brain develops and I don't at all take it personally, but that certainly doesn't mean that it's not utterly exhausting to argue and negotiate and discipline all day long.  But to then be emotionally junk-punched by fully developed brains who didn't come from my womb...well...I frankly just don't have the energy to keep taking it.  Or to fight back.  So I'm not totally sure where that leaves me.

I could say more.  But it would be too specific and I would regret it later.

Deep breath.  Turn the page.

Not at all related, I am reading a fantastic book right now called Love Wins by Rob Bell, who is the pastor of the church I used to attend in Grand Rapids, MI when I was in college.  My dad has read it twice and highly recommends it, and I, too, think every person should read it regardless of whether they follow Jesus or not.  It is rapidly changing my entire perspective on the nature of heaven and hell and the extent that our Creator loves us.  Pick it up, and I would very much love to hear what you think if you do.

Ok, one photo.  Here we are in Sunriver a couple of weeks ago.  We're headed back next week for our annual friends trip and are very much looking forward to it.  

The Velveteen Polar Bear

Like his sister before him, Henry has formed a deep and committed attachment to his blanket, or "Beebee" as they are known in our home.  This is great.  We are pro-security-object in our family, and perhaps the best parenting move we've made thus far was purchasing two of each of their blankets and swapping them out regularly to make sure that all of them get "seasoned" at the same rate.

At about 7 or 8 months of age, Henry made a unilateral decision to also become attached to one of his stuffed animals, a crisp white round little polar bear that was given to him by Uncle Kris and his girlfriend Laura.  I understood the draw.  He was soft and fluffy with a cute little face and beans in his bottom.  But of all of his stuffed animals, I most certainly would not have picked a bright white one for him to adopt as the lovie that gets puked on, drooled on, sucked on, and dragged across countless floors and rugs.  Needless to say, "PaBaBa," as Henry calls him, has been washed many times and looks as haggard as a thirty year meth addict.  

A few weeks ago, Henry started saying that Polar Bear was broken.  He would hold him up, watch as he hung limp, saggy, and grey from his hand, and state with a furrowed brow that Polar Bear was broken.  Kurt had the genius idea to order a new, identical one and then "fluff up" Old Polar Bear in the dryer and exchange with New Polar Bear.  We did just that, and at first, Henry seemed genuinely amazed and tickled that PaBaBa had been restored to his youthful, ripe self.  He bought the switch and hugged New Polar Bear, but within 30 minutes or so, he had put New Polar Bear out of his sight and was asking for Old Polar Bear again.  We tried buttering him up to New Polar Bear, but he would have none of it.  By bedtime, it was clear that we'd better figure out how to "de-fluff" PaBaBa or we were all going to hear about it.  

Alas.  Old Polar Bear returned.  Henry seems to keep him even closer than he did before, and he hasn't once stated that he looks broken.  

'Tis the Season

 Sometimes life is really hard.  Sometimes you feel exhausted and lonely and defeated before your feet even hit the floor in the morning.  Sometimes the only prayer you can quietly muster is "Help, Help, Help" over and over again and you're hard pressed to remember the last time you smiled.

This is not one of those times for our little family in our little corner of the world.  

This is a belly laugh until you can hardly breathe time.  A blast Taylor Swift in the living room and dance around like fools with the curtains wide open time.  A treat ourselves to Ruby Jewel Ice Cream on a warm Spring Thursday evening time.  A "Thank You, Thank You, Thank You" as your heart swells with gratitude time.

I live under the same roof with my three favorite people.  My husband knows how to make me laugh and knows how to make my coffee.  My children draw me pictures and cover me with sticky kisses.  We are healthy.  Our bellies are full and our bodies are warm.  Our hearts are regularly nurtured and our spirits lifted by our beloved family, friends, and neighbors.  

We attribute these blessings to the Lord whom we love and serve and know that in experiencing His love for us, our lives shift from black and white to vivid technicolor.  I don't at all expect that all of the seasons of my life will be easy and abundant, and I hope when our next trial comes, my song is still fundamentally one of gratitude.  But for now, we are basking in this season of joy and rest and praying that we have ample opportunities to let our cups runneth over onto each of you.

Here are a couple of random photos that somehow never got posted:

Our sweet kiddos in their Christmas duds.

Madelyn with her lovely Nana and lovely Mimi at the Heathman for New Year's Eve tea, a new tradition.

Sibling affection.

Just like Daddy.

Easter 2013

If all Easters for the rest of my life this side of Heaven are cold, grey, and rainy, it will be worth it for the 73 degree and sunny Easter of 2013.  Not hard to experience the joy of a Risen Savior with a day filled with sunshine, blue sky, blossoming trees, family, yummy food, laughter, and great neighbors.  Topped off with a bike ride.  In March.  We lose count of our blessings to be quite sure...

Lessons for age 5 and 34

Madelyn has reached the age when she's starting to get her feelings hurt by her friends.  "Mark didn't want to play with me."  "Katie called me stupid."  "Toby said my shoes were ugly."  She'll cry big, sad tears and collapse into my arms with genuine hurt and defeat.  I try my best to be compassionate and soothe her and encourage her to be confident in who she is and not let others' hurtful words dictate how she thinks about herself or feels about herself.  

I was reminded this week that this is much easier said than done.  Some of you know that things at my place of employment have been tense to say the least the last several months.  I have found myself for the first time in my professional career in the crosshairs of Human Resources regarding the non-profit organization that I am starting.  My employer feels that there is a conflict of interest between what I do at my current job and what I am endeavoring to do through The Family Room.  This, of course, is preposterous and literally elicits laughs from everyone I tell, but they have given me a "cease and desist" ultimatum and have pulled me into several disciplinary meetings in which I have been treated more like a criminal on trial than the exemplary employee that I have proven to be over the last 8 years. The thing is, I know who I am and that I have done nothing to deserve punitive action.  But hearing others say untruthful, negative things about you truly is hurtful regardless of how much your brain knows there is no merit.  And I'm 34 years old with a (mostly) mature brain and decades of life experience.  How much more painful and confusing must this feel to my 5 year old girl?

Thank God we have the unconditional love of our boys to buoy our spirits and make us laugh.

Kindergarten Round Up

Kurt and I had the joy this morning of attending Kindergarten Round Up at the elementary school behind our house, Chief Joseph.  We are part of Portland Public Schools which, put mildly, has been a mess for a good number of years.  Well, it's been a mess for North Portland schools...not necessarily for schools elsewhere in the city.  We bought our house over 6 years ago with the assumption that it would be a 2-3 year starter home and we would move before our kids would reach school age.  The housing market crashed one year after we bought our home, however, and we quickly realized that we were not going to be able to sell our house for a long, long time.  All of a sudden, we have a 5 year old who is ready for Kindergarten, and we're "stuck" in a neighborhood where the schools have been grossly underfunded and have frightening reputations.  Suffice to say, we've been quite anxious about this situation for the last year.

Sometimes, the greatest gift God can give you is to nail you firmly to the ground and keep you from being able to run away.  In just the last several weeks, we have watched with awe as several key decisions have been made within the Portland Public School district that radically improve the situation at our local school.  Furthermore, in actually setting foot inside the school this morning and meeting the dynamic, engaging principal as well as other staff members and PTA parents, we were humbled and so impressed with the community they have created and how committed everyone is to the safety, growth, and development of our children.  

Although God more or less dragged us into this school with a heap of fear and skepticism, we are now eagerly choosing to become a part of the Chief Joseph community and to take an active roll in continuing to improve the stability and learning environment of all of the North Portland schools.  We can't wait for next year to begin, and we walked out of the building this morning feeling like even when we someday can, we just might never leave North Portland.

Small Bits

I'm going to try something different for this space for a bit and see what happens.  This season in my life is just too busy (good busy) to keep up with writing long missives.  I think about what I'd like to write all the time, but by the time the kiddos are finally asleep at the end of the night, it just feels like too big of a task.  So rather than putting pressure on myself to write something long or important or inspiring, I'm just going to share a favorite observation or event or photo from the day in one paragraph or less.  The idea, remember, is that this space is our family's journal/scrap book/photo album...it just happens to be available for all of you to read, too.

Having said that, here are a few random thoughts from the day:

1.  I've started wearing exclusively black and white striped shirts and carrying a whistle with me wherever I go.  

2.  Chocolate cake made with 2 cups of red wine and smothered in marscapone frosting is, umm, delicious.

3.  Small siblings who study their big siblings and work to carefully copy their every move melt my heart.  Big siblings who sing/read to their small siblings to "comfort them" melt it all over again.

4.  I will read my children "whoa-ties" (ahem, "stories") anytime, anywhere, and I'll stop anything (well, just about anything) to do it.

5.  Chalk paint and milk paint might be my new crafty obsession (I know, I know...I need another hobby like I need, well, another new hobby).  My grandparents' table and chairs is gettin' a new facelift, y'all.

6.  I love my husband.  He's rad.  And he's not bad on the eyes.

7.  This is what happens while I sleep in on Saturday mornings:

Our Boy Turns 2

One of my favorite photos of Henry (taken by our friend, Eden).
His 100 watt smile is truly one of the most contagious I've ever seen.

I don't think I ever posted this photo!  This is Henry sitting on
my cousins Nick's and Pete's bike (that they built, by the way).
He would've sat on this thing all night long!  His love (or
obsession) of motorcycles has only intensified this past year.

The tiny human who perfectly completed our family turned two whole years old today.  Every time I looked at him today I remembered January 7, 2011 and how pure joy entered our family in one snuggly 8 lb. 7 oz. package.  He fell asleep in my arms as I rocked him before his nap, and given that Madelyn is at school on Mondays, I just indulged in his scent and his warmth and thought of how he used to fit right up under my chin and nuzzle in and sleep for hours.  He most certainly doesn't fit under my chin anymore...he's his daddy's boy!  But watching him grow and develop and share his passions with us is just so stinkin' fun it makes it ok to know that the baby nuzzling days are over.  Henry is an absolute fire cracker.  He is our zesty, spicy, own-the-room boy who feels everything intensely and has no trouble at all inviting the whole room into whatever emotion he is feeling.  Life with Henry is vibrant and expressive and filled with constant motion and curiosity.  You could put a wig and a tutu on this boy and a perfect stranger would still know with absolute certainty that he is all boy.  I have learned more about construction equipment and two-wheeled vehicles in the last year than I probably ever cared to, but I find myself eager to find out what Henry will inevitably add to this lesson this next year.  (If you ever come over to play, don't insult him by calling any of his motorcycles just a "motorcycle."  We have "Ducati's" and "Harley's" and "dirt bikes" but we do not have just "motorcycles, people.)  His big personality challenges me and rewards me in all the best ways every single day, and we are just so, so grateful for his irreplaceable presence in our family.  Happy, Happy Birthday, sweet Henry Finn!

Yowza, The Time Flies

(Photos are temporarily not uploading.  A true tragedy, but I want to get this text posted now and I'll add photos as soon as I can.)

Hmm, well even though November didn't happen at all on this blog (and December is nearly over), it most certainly happened in our home.  I know I've said it before, but I'm finding it increasingly difficult to find time to write in this space.  I very much want to continue writing here as I know I will forget all of these fun stories and I want my kids to know what life was like for them in our family when they were too little to remember.  I am so enjoying our little family.  What a gift to be able to share the same roof with my three favorite people in the whole world.  I am frequently reminded that this is not everyone's experience, and the blessing is never lost on me.

So.  Here are a few Olmsted family highlights from the last several weeks in no particular order:

1.  Halloween was a blast.  It didn't rain!  That, alone, was epic.  Madelyn wanted to be Cinderella, and she was so thankful it was warm enough and dry enough to trick-or-treat in just her dress and her fancy shoes (no boots or coat needed).  You could tell she felt so pretty, and she was super into trick-or-treating.  Last minute, we decided to dress Henry as The Fonz.  He already had the motorcycle jacket and a little riding motorcycle, and given his obsession, it seemed the obvious choice.  We slicked his hair back, and oh my goodness, he was so stinkin' cute.  He rode his motorcycle the whole time we trick-or-treated and you could tell he just felt bad.  So hilarious.

2.  Henry's language has absolutely sky-rocketed in the last several weeks.  All of a sudden around 22 months he started pointing to things and correctly naming them..."bapple" "puppy" "Doodie (aka "Maddie")." Then, about three or so weeks ago, he started putting two and three words together.  He'll say "that mean, Mama?" over and over again as we're driving somewhere and he's observing new things out his window.  "Milk, peas, Mama!" (He's generally quite polite and tags a "peas!" on to most requests, thank God.)  Or "No, Maddie!  Mine!  Wenwy (aka "Henry")!"  Let's just say, he can get his point across pretty well these days.  And if you're wrong, he's not at all shy about saying "no" and repeating (and repeating and repeating) until you get it right.  He has dozens of words at this point, but here are a few of my favorites:

• "loolee" = kitty
• "bbbbbb" = motorcycle (heard at least fifty times each day)
• "neenut" = Santa OR donut...context is key here, people
• "mimas yites" = Christmas lights
• "miam" = Liam, one of his buddies from daycare
• [wookie sound] = water.  Kurt couldn't be more proud.  Kid can't say "water" but he can make a wookie sound.
• "nuggle" = snuggle
• "bike" = bike.  Umm, an object this important necessitates exact pronunciation.
• "woowoo" = fire trunk
• "meemeemeen" = airplane
• "neeneeneen" = train
• "meemeemince" = ambulance (are you sensing a transportation theme yet?)
• "bobobo" = polar bear OR bulldozer, again, context!

3.  I am so enjoying watching Madelyn's and Henry's relationship develop.  We are trying really hard to teach these two that when something good happens to one of us, it's a celebration for all of us.  I so want them to have each other's backs and cheerlead for each other throughout their lives.  They're the only sibling they're going to get after all.  Without exception, when something good happens to Henry, the first person he wants to tell is his sister.  When he gets an owie, he needs a kiss from Mama, but he quickly zooms to Sister to get a kiss from her as well.  If I give him a little treat, he won't take one without taking one for Maddie, too.  And on Mondays when Sister is at school, he truly is a bit lost without her.  He wakes up from his nap on those days asking to go pick her up right away.  Melt.My.Heart.  And Madelyn, for her part, is such an encouraging, nurturing, protective Big Sister.  He'll say a new word correctly and she'll come running to me to excitedly report his feat and then return to him to give him a high five and say "good job, Buddy!"  She has said repeatedly that she loves sharing a room with her brother because she is lonely without him.  One time, Kurt caught her "reading" on the couch to Henry from one of his motorcycle magazines.  Solidify heart and then Melt.It.All.Over.Again.

4.  Madelyn learned all about the word "fuck."  Bear with me here before you totally judge me.  I won't go into all the details, but the bottom line is that Mumford and Sons is a fantastic band with an occasionally naughty mouth.  And I am a usually observant mother who occasionally gets distracted at inopportune moments.  Sigh.  So she heard it, we talked about it (without going into a literal definition thank God), I gave her a chance to say it and get it out of her system, and then I told her that if I ever heard that word out of her mouth or heard of her saying that word anywhere, I would wash her mouth out with soap.  She hasn't said a word more about it, and we now have a clean version of Little Lion Man.

5.  If any of you try to get in touch with us in the next few weeks and months and find it difficult, it's because Kurt has become a sudden and unexpected rap star.  He and his Nike colleagues wrote, filmed, and produced a rap video for their most recent quarterly meeting that was very well received and, well, we're pretty sure a record deal is in the near future.  Rest assured, we will not forget that we knew all of you before we hit it big.  If you want an autographed head shot, we are more than happy to oblige.  

6.  (For those of you who are too kind to detect the dripping sarcasm in the above paragraph, all of that was a load of hogwash.  Well, not all of it.  Kurt and his colleagues really did write, film, and produce a rap video in the spirit of SNL's "Lazy Sunday" Digital Short.  It's awesome.  I find myself legitimately singing it in my head frequently.  We can't share it, unfortunately, but suffice to say, it provided a lot of laughs in our home and around Nike.  Andy Samburg would be proud.)

7.  My nonprofit organization, The Family Room, has hit its first major, major bumps in the road.  It's discouraging for sure, but I also feel a bit rudderless at the moment.  I feel called to take this organization in a slightly (but critically) different direction, and I need some serious guidance.  Please pray that the right people to provide this guidance will come to the forefront of my brain as I'm not even quite sure where to start.  I'll write more about this in a later post.

We are thoroughly enjoying this Advent season and pray that each of you are too!

Sample Sale!

Time for another Stella & Dot sample sale!  Making room for lovely new pieces from the fall and holiday collections...jewels, scarves, wallets, and iphone covers (for which I will actually have an iphone by the time it arrives...finally!)  Email me (kimberlee.olmsted@gmail.com) or call me (503-806-9382) if you are interested in anything!  All prices are 50% off.  Of course, as always, if anyone is interested in a holiday trunk show, let me know.  Such a fun time of year for Stella & Dot!

Contessa Jade necklace ($59) on left and Copa necklace ($64) on right

Close up of Contessa Jade

Close up of Copa

Birds of Paradise necklace ($89).  SO gorgeous in person!

Libby Layering necklace in gold ($34.50) on left, Hematite Link Chain necklace ($39.50) on left, and Cameron Pendant necklace ($39.50) on right

Close up of Libby Layering and Hematite Link Chain

Close up of Cameron Pendant

Bahari necklace ($49).  I had two of these and am keeping one forever and ever.  LOVE this necklace.

Vintage Cluster ring ($19.50).

Aurora Cocktail ring ($24.50).

Stackable Gem ring ($27).

Tudor Stud earrings ($19.50).

Estate Chandelier earrings ($24.50).

Petra Fringe earrings ($29.50).

Capri earrings in coral ($24.50). 

Foundation bracelet in pink ($19.50).

La Coco Clutch in Pewter with Purple Plume brooch ($90 for set)

Close up of brooch.

Shattered. Embarked.

Came across this photo from the first day of school this year.  Neglected to post it, but it's too stinkin' cute to not share, even if it is now October.  My goodness, how I love those two faces. 

I love them so much, as a matter of fact, that I have embarked on a somewhat unexpected journey these past several months. Some of you might remember a post I wrote at the beginning of the year entitled Shatter and Embark.  My "New Year's Resolution" of sorts was to start down the path of a professional dream of mine that I've had for quite some time -- 5 years and 1 month, to be exact.  Most of you know that I've worked in the child welfare field my entire professional career -- over 11 years now.  I've always felt deeply passionate about making sure that every child is safe, cherished, and nurtured in her own home.  As a caseworker in the child welfare system, it was my job to help parents do whatever needed to be done to regain custody of their children.  I learned pretty quickly that 1) I had very little power and control in actually getting kids home and 2) the system is built more toward getting kids adopted than getting them home.  I am absolutely pro-adoption.  Adoption will always be a necessity in our society, and I've seen countless children bloom and find their first sense of belonging in their adoptive families.  But being pro-adoption does not exclude being pro-reunification.  5 years and 1 month ago I learned first hand what research has been telling us for years:  that children need their parents and are inextricably bonded to their parents from the moment they enter this world, no matter how terrible at parenting they might be.  I knew that I would adore my children, but I was (and still am) awed at how much they adore me...and need me and are soothed by just my scent or my voice and look to me for security and direction and assurance and validation.  Kurt and I are the center of their universe, and their love and devotion to us is utterly unconditional.  

Every child deserves to have a fair shot to be raised (safely) by the center of their universe.  The thing is, I don't think we give kids a fair shot much of the time.  Certainly, there are acts for which parents should never get a second chance.  But most of the time, the parents involved in the child welfare system experienced horrific trauma, abuse, and neglect in their own childhoods.  They are simply parenting in the same way that was modeled for them.  We need to help their kids by providing them a new model.  Ideally, there would be foster homes for entire families, not just children alone.  But seeing as how even I don't particularly want to sign up for that job, I can hardly expect others to want to either.  The next best thing, then, is to create a "home" for parents and children in which to practice being a safe, nurturing parent with all kinds of support, guidance, and encouragement wrapped around them.

Hence The Family Room.

I won't go into the details of how The Family Room came to be or where we've been thus far.  For those interested in some of those details, you are welcome to check out our website at www.familyroomoregon.org.  Currently, we are fundraising.  I hate it.  Was that too honest?  Well, I don't have the energy these days for anything but raw honesty, so there you have it.  I want to do this work; I never wanted to start a business.  I do not have a business brain nor am I interested in anything having to do with running a business.  But I know this model of intervention works, and there isn't anything like it in Portland.  And I look at my own two darlings' faces every day and see a thousand other small faces that are just as deserving as they are.  So.  The only two options were 1) adopt them all myself or 2) teach their parents to be the kind of parents they deserve.  I went with the latter (and probably saved my marriage at the same time).  

I am exhausted.  But I'm also thrilled and honored and humbled and hopeful to finally be on this path.  I suspect we have a long road ahead of us.  There was a $150,000 carrot dangled in front of us about a month ago that we just found out will likely not come our way.  Disappointing for sure.  But my business partner, Kim, and I are determined and passionate -- a powerful combination.  We are putting all of our efforts into getting in front of foundations and other "angel" donors until our 501(c)(3) comes through and we can begin applying for grants.  If we can get our doors open within the year, we will feel really good about that.  We're both moms of young kiddos, and abandoning them to start a program to teach people how to parent well would be pretty hypocritical.  So.  Finding "balance" these days is often pretty challenging.  For me, it means working through nearly every naptime and after every bedtime.  But there have been many meetings for which I have had to leave my kiddos, and I won't lie: that is a really difficult, guilt-ridden thing for me to do.  Madelyn asked me one time why I had so many meetings.  Ouch.  So, I told her about The Family Room and that I'm trying to help mommies and daddies be better parents.  I hope my children always know that raising them is my priority and my great joy, but I also hope that one day, they will be proud of the only endeavor that was worthy of their mama choosing to be away from them.

Onward we go...

Party Hearty

Here are a few photos from Madelyn's Doll Tea Birthday Party with a few of her friends on Saturday morning.  This was the first time we did a "friend" birthday party, and we all had a ton of fun.  This is a lovely group of girls, and we are so grateful that Maddie has such fun, sweet, thoughtful friends!

 

 Henry and I brought cupcakes to Madelyn's preschool class on her birthday, per her very specific request ("princess cupcakes with princess rings on top").  "As you wish!"

 At long last, Kit arrived just in time for Madelyn's actual birthday!  About 3 months ago, she decided that she desperately needed an American Girl doll, Kit to be specific.  Given my own history with my precious Kirsten, I supported this plan.  But, like my parents told me, we told her she had to earn half the money herself.  So she has spent this whole summer saving every penny of her allowance and doing extra chores (and a lemonade/cookie stand) to earn the $50 for Kit.  She did it.  We placed the order for Kit two days before her birthday (as far as she knows), and Kit literally showed up on our doorstep first thing on the morning of the 10th.  She has pretty much gone everywhere with Madelyn since then.  Pretty great.

 Celebrating Madelyn's birthday with the Rankertyintzsted's (our group of friends).  We get together every second Sunday of the month and celebrate all birthdays in the month.  Maddie's is the only one in September.  Look at how much she loves these people.  We love them too.

September 10

Our baby girl turned five years old today.  Five!  That's a whole hand worth of fingers.  It's a big deal.  I'm looking at the time right now (10:16 p.m.), and I'm remembering that five years ago this moment, I had known my daughter for less than an hour.  That seems just impossible to me because I feel like there has never been a time when I didn't know her.  When her face didn't dance through my thoughts or her laugh ring in my ears.  I am learning that perhaps the greatest joy of parenting is discovering who your children are, and I feel like we're really getting to know our girl...how she sees the world, what excites her and what terrifies her, how she sees other people, what she values.  This year between four and five years old felt pivotal in that she no longer rides the fence between "baby" and "girl" -- she is most definitely not our baby anymore.  She is sophisticated in so many ways and fiercely independent and feisty and sensitive and compassionate and utterly determined to reach her goals.  And yet...  I rocked her to sleep last night -- for the first time in well over a year -- all curled up in my lap after she fell out of bed and totally busted up her bottom lip (those full lips of hers didn't need to get any fuller, let me tell you).  She was so upset, and even though I completely celebrate her growth and development and delight in seeing her begin to make her own way and choose her own life, I relished those 30 minutes of dependence and intimacy.  I know things often get complicated with mothers and daughters, but I hope Madelyn knows that no matter how old she is or what path she has taken or what other busted lips life gives her, she can always return to her mama's arms. 

Happy Birthday, sweet girl.  It is a privilege and a blessing to have you in our family.  We delight in you, and we love you!

Manzanita

We just returned from a short but sweet trip to the Oregon Coast -- Manzanita, to be specific.  We decided about a week ago that the summer wouldn't be complete without a couple of nights at the coast, and we were able to find a room at a modest but clean (e.g. no bed bugs) motel directly across from the beach right in the heart of the little town.  Perfect.  The weather forecast said "AM clouds/PM sun" with a high of 67 for the three days we were there, but the sun shone brightly and warmly from sunrise to sunset the whole time.  We even went swimming.  Swimming!  Not in the ocean, mind you -- we're not crazy.  The motel has a small heated outdoor pool that looks directly out to the ocean.  Between the pool and the endless running on the beach and the "treasures" found in the sand and the ice-cream cones, my kids were in heaven.  

I realize that for many people, a "beach" isn't a "beach" unless the air is hot, the water is warm, and the primary reason to go is to actually swim in the ocean.  I get it.  I've been to plenty of warm beaches, tropical or otherwise, and I find turquoise water, palm trees, and hot sand just as gorgeous and seductive as anyone.  But they don't restore my soul like the Oregon Coast does.  They don't leave me with a sense of wonder and awe at the utter magnitude of God's creation.  They don't fill my lungs with crisp, salty air and cleanse each cell in my body one breath at a time.  And, particularly poignant, they don't carry a lifetime's worth of family memories that I get to relive every time I visit.  Alas.  I'll forgo the care-free, pleasing, bikini-clad blonde-bombshell of a beach in favor of my moody, mysterious, bespeckled brunette bookworm of a beach anyday.  

Here are some 2012 highlights:

 Ice-cream before dinner?  Sure!

 I love this shot because it shows the grandeur of the Oregon Coast.

 Inspecting a crab's claw.  The beach is full of surprises and treasures.

 At Camp 18 about 30 minutes away from the coast.  I have been eating here for as long as I can remember, and absolutely nothing has changed.  I think I would literally cry if it ever closed down.  

Riding on a surrey in Seaside on our way out of town.  Kurt and I peddled that thing for 45 minutes and earned every bite of our lunch at Camp 18!