my day with big turkey.

here's me and 'big turkey' (ellee named him) at our date with destiny. it's 3:30am and i had just pulled him from his brine bath, stuffed him with delicious dressing and tied his legs together...i think it was a good time for both of us.

a little salt and pepper for good measure. it's like make-up for turkeys.

the sun has come up and we are waiting for the big reveal...stuffing getting ready....mmmm....stuffing.

here's matty pulling him out...this is the moment of truth!

our date was fun, big turkey, but now it's time to say good-bye. i just hope he tastes as good as he looks!

happy thanksgiving to everyone! big turkey is just one of the countless things we are thankful for today and everyday! be blessed and enjoy!

happy thanksgiving...ellee style.

november is adoption awareness month

when you were a little girl, did you imagine meeting your baby in an airport? me neither. but...in this picture, does it look i care where i am? i only see her. and she only sees me.

from this moment forward, we were family.

we were not together yet when this picture was taken. but on 7/9/05, matt and i were talking about adoption...within hours of when this picture was taken, i told matt that we needed to move fast because our baby was waiting for us. isn't god incredible?

on 7/14/05, we decided to make it happen. we had no idea how it would come together, but after years of trying to begin our family, we had done it. i instantly felt like i could not work fast enough to get our baby home. like every day that passed was wasted time. on 10/12/05, we received our referral. we laid our eyes on the first images of our sweet sophie.

over the six months from when we accepted her referral to when she came home, we received 3 updates that chronicled our baby's first year.

we could tell, even from the picture, that she was special.

she was lovely.

and tiny. when she came home, on 4/25/06, she was 13 months and she weighed only 17 pounds. (nora is 8 months and easily pulls in at 21 pounds.)

this is sophie on the infamous 'kss rug'. every baby that lives in/comes from this particular orphanage gets their update photos taken on this very rug. sophie lived at kss until she was 6 months old. she was then assigned a foster family...she lived with a lovey woman, her husband and her daughter. sophie also lived with another foster child...he came home to his family on the same flight with sophie. his name is alex and he lives in ohio. in more ways than one, sophie is a part of something so much bigger than just her. i guess we all are.

when we got these pictures, i cried. it was so real to me that she was not a little baby and that i had missed so much. i would come to learn that in reality, i had missed very little and that every milestone i got with her was what was important. sure, adoption has it's challenges, but they pale in comparison to the good in it.

sophie was walking before she was nine months old. she spent most of her time indoors. when she first got home, she hated being outside and was terrified of grass.

she was so wonderfully cared for and so beautifully loved throughout her 13 months in korea.
by her birth mom. by her care-givers and nurses. by her foster family. by us. and by her heavenly father. she was never far from our minds.

we are blessed by her. and by adoption.

i think about sophie's birth mom often. sophie does too. when she asks about her, i am always honest. i tell her that she was meant for our family from the beginning of time. i explain that her birth mom loved her so much. i tell her that i couldn't grow her in my tummy, so her brith mom grew her for me and then, when it was time, she came home to us. and that we are so blessed. we talk about sophie's gotcha day in the same way that we talk about the days when ellee, casey, and nora were born. these are the days when i got to meet my babies. and sometimes these days mean different things for different people, and that's ok.

this is sophie with her foster mom. we pray for her too. she did an amazing job with our lil' lady.

she started off small, but her future was bright.

sophie was the start of all this. adoption is a gift and if you haven't thought about it for your family, you should. i'm just sayin'.

it's beginning to look a lot like...winter.

this morning we woke up to this season's first snow storm...it was coming down! nora's first glimps of the white stuff. sophie and ellee's first time digging out the snow pants for the winter. and casey's first squeal of joy while staring out the window watching it fall. it was awesome.

tonight, after the kids went to bed, matt and i went outside to shake the heavy snow off some of our branches. we ended up making quite a fine snowman. and that is why i love my husband.

matt's joke was that we were so desperate for friends in minnesota that we had to build one. ummmm...ha ha? ok...he's still a cute new friend.

here we are...the proud builders. (i do realize that you are looking directly up my nose, but, i don't care. so there.)

and a close up of our dear man. :) if you got some snow today, we hope you enjoyed it as much as we did!

i am a master builder.

my alarm blared this morning at 5am in the form of my 2 year old son screaming that he had dropped his passy and could not reach his arm through the bars of his crib to retrieve it. shortly afterward my sweet 8 month old woke up hungry and before i could finish feeding her, my older girls showed their bleary eyes to this 9th day in november.

i was tired but we began our day.

between breakfast, outfits, shoes, socks, and school bags, we hugged and laughed and snuggled. before too long, sophie and ellee were at school and casey and mom enjoyed time together while nora took her nap.

by lunch, ellee and dad made their way back to our nest and chicken nuggets were prepared and consumed. naps were had and the shopping was complete.

when dinner time rolled around, our house was loud. the sounds of four young babes playing, yelling, and watching cartoons had filled each of our small rooms. the amount of noise was challenged only by the size of the mess being made. unfolded laundry had become mountains for casey's cars. pajamas from the morning's rush were still laying where they were 8 hours before when my lil' ladies tossed them for more appropriate school clothes.

looking around, in that moment, i felt overwhelmed. i felt, as i do each time i lose control of these 1100 square feet and the 6 people who inhabit them, that i may just lose the fight. i truly take solace in those moments. that at 5:23pm, in kitchens around the country, there are moms that keep fighting. women who keep the bigger picture in mind. moms who keep moving forward. and then, knowing i am not alone in this, things seem a little easier.

i try to remember that some things just don't matter (laundry, mess, noise!). when dinner is in the oven, there is an end in sight. and that is good...and bad. i am reminded that when matt and i are 50, we will sit in our quiet, clean, house and miss the chaos that surrounds us now. and boy, that will be awkward.

when bed time rolled around tonight, everyone was sleepy. hugs were given and our day was ended.

i spent my night cleaning, watching some tv and thinking about the bigger things. november is adoption awareness month and so as i clean up the very milk that they spilled, my mind wanders to the miracle of the people who make up my family. i marvel at what i have been given...even on the longest and most stressful days.

it's almost unbelievable to me that sophie came home to us nearly 5 years ago. even more, that we have since had three biological kids. building our family was hard...but when is building anything ever easy? it's work. it's effort. it's intention. it's good.

now that i am pretty much a full-time mom, my work is to maintain what matt and i have built...raising good kids to become even better adults.

but, i am finding, this is hard work. sometimes when i am feeling insecure about staying at home with my kids, i think about sophie and what could have been for her life...and as crazy as it sounds, i want to be better for her. because she is always the best for us.

the truth is, sophie didn't end up in the best family, she ended up in her family. and it is as it was always supposed to be. that she be the greatest big sister to ellee. that she show ellee what it is to love a sibling so that ellee could show casey and so that casey could show nora. and i sleep easy at night knowing that they will always have each other...that together they are my greatest work. and, like any job, i have to work hard to be successful. it's work. it's effort. it's intention. and again, it's good.

the faces you see to the right of this post aren't just some kids...they are my kids. they are my worldly work...and i want to be good at my job.

i am thankful for the words of my partner in this...he recently told me it's worth it (to be poor. seriously, that's what he meant!) as long as i am happy and that our kids are getting everything they deserve. and if my future is anything like my first 32 years, my actual intentions will have very little to do with where i end up. so there's that.

for now, i will be home. i will work 15 hours a week at a coffee shop and i will dabble in community theatre. everyday, my four alarm clocks will blare and i will prepare breakfasts, find socks for 8 bare feet and the shoes to match them. i will clean kitchens and bathrooms and in doing so, i will build my cathedrals. i will sit on my front stoop late at night and i will thank god, out loud, for a life that i am living to the fullest. and i will encourage others to do the same.

she is so big.

encouragement.

i was stumbling around my hard drive this evening...cleaning up old pictures, looking at old resumes, and killing time before folding a mountain of laundry. i found this document called 'encouragement'. without any recollection of what it contained, i opened it. below is the tidbit i found. i have no idea when i got this, or why i saved it (most days i cannot find my keys, all four children children at once, or even a single pair of clean underwear, let alone think to save a document that may someday offer some perspective to this tired and haggard mom). god is funny that way...sometimes, he gives me things that i didn't even know i was looking for. and they are always just what i need.

i hope it helps you as it has me.

I'm invisible.

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30 , please."

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going . she's going... she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it.

I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:

1. No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.

2. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.

3. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

4. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it."
And the workman replied, "Because God sees."

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.

The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Live Simply.
Love Generously.
Care Deeply.
Speak Kindly.
Leave the rest to God

have you ever thought about adopting? me neither...until i did.

if you have ever met me, talked with me, or seen a picture of my family, you know that adoption is something that i am more than passionate about. through adoption, matt and i began our family. from something so painful as infertility, came the most beautiful girl. now, having sophie home with us (as was ordained by god before time began...but that's another blog post for another day) i feel motivated, obligated even, to share bits of my experience and general information about adoption itself.

you see, if it had not been for a friend who showed me that even though adopting a child is scary and hard and expensive, it's NOT IMPOSSIBLE. and more importantly, if you feel god calling you to do it, he will make a way. no matter what.

below you can find a few interesting facts about adoption...they are from www.davethomasfoundation.org/Adoption-Facts/Foster-Care-Facts

for information about sophie's adoption and the challenges we faced, check out the links on the right...

more than anything, i hope you consider how you can support adoption today!

On any given day in North America, more than 500,000 children are in the foster care system, and nearly 145,000 of them are available for adoption, just waiting for the right family to find them.

• There are 423,773 children in the U.S. foster care system; 114,556 of these children are available for adoption. Their birth parent's legal rights have been permanently terminated and children are left without a family.

• More children become available for adoption each year than are adopted. In 2009, 69,947 children had parental rights terminated by the courts, yet only 57,466 were adopted.

• Children often wait three years or more to be adopted, move three or more times in foster care and often are separated from siblings. The average age of waiting children is 8 years old.

• Last year, 29,471 children turned 18 and left the foster care system without an adoptive family.

• Adopting from foster care is affordable. Most child welfare agencies cover the costs of home studies and court fees, and provide post-adoption subsidies. Thousands of employers offer financial reimbursement and paid leave for employees who adopt and Federal and/or state adoption tax credits are available to most families.

• Every child is adoptable. Many children in foster care have special needs. All of them deserve the chance to grow up in a safe, loving, permanent home. Support and other post-adoption resources are available.

• Adopting from foster care is permanent. Once a child is adopted out of foster care, the birth parents cannot attempt to claim them or fight in court for their return. A family formed through foster care adoption is forever.

• According to a National Adoption Attitudes Survey commissioned by the Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption, 63 percent of Americans hold a favorable view of adoption and 78 percent think more should be done to encourage adoption.

• Nearly 40 percent of American adults, or 81.5 million people, have considered adopting a child, according to the National Adoption Attitudes Survey. If just one in 500 of these adults adopted, every waiting child in foster care would have a permanent family.

NOTE: Statistical source is Adoption and Foster Care Analysis and Reporting System; Department of Health & Human Services (October 2009), unless otherwise stipulated.