A Year Ago Today . . .

This is the game that Sam and I have been playing for the last 5 days--remembering when we received the first phone call about our angel birth mother having contractions. Then the next call, when she was checking into the hospital. Our whirlwind to get on the next flight. Being present during delivery. Holding David for the first time. Bringing an empty carseat to the hospital, and leaving with a full one. The memories have all come back, one at a time--and we savor each sweet morsel.

We love our angel Birth Mother with our whole hearts. She has exhibited a tremendous amount of love, selflessness, sensitivity, and maturity--not only through the process of birth and placement, but also in the year since that time.

I want to share a poem I wrote about a year and a half ago. At the time, we were in the process of waiting for my FBI background check to clear. So our adoption paperwork was in limbo--and would be for another few months. During that time, I read everything I could find to get a sense of what it might be like to be a birth mother, making the tremendous choice that would bless our family with a baby. It's not something I will ever know for myself, but my heart loved deeply for the angel who would bless our family with this miracle. At that point, I didn't know who she would be--but my heart loved her already.

Across Eternity

You held my hand while I crossed eternity,

When you brought me to earth for mortality.

In wisdom and sorrow you chose to place

Me in a family to be raised.

When I left the holy courts on high

Two special promises were mine.

One was a body to be given

The other, a family to grow and live in.

I promise to do all that I can

To live according to Father's plan.

Mom and Dad have promised me

To teach the truths of eternity.

Connected in heart we will always be.

Not only life--love you gave to me.

Pure happiness in another life

Will only be sweet when you're at my side.

The gift you have given, just one parallel.

Father gave His Son to make all things well.

He gave His life so that it may be

We will yet clasp hands in eternity.

We love you, Angel Birth Mother!

Happy Birthday, Buddy!

Can David really be 1 year old now!?! His life has blessed our home for a wonderful, happy year.

By the time we had cake that night (and pulled out the camera), David was worn out from all the excitement and fun from the rest of the day--so we don't have very many pictures of a smiling David. But he was a very happy boy!

Some of David's milestones at 1-year old are:

• Saying a few words: Daddy, David (Day-dih), Yeah, Bath, and our favorite--Hi (Haaaaih! with a wide open mouth)
• He's not walking yet, but he is taking a few steps here and there. Sam has worked with him on this one, and he can get David to go 2 or 3 steps before he falls forward into his arms or chooses to sit down. Every day he grows braver with letting go of his support and standing on his own. It won't be long!

• His favorite food is cheese. Once he tastes cheese, he won't eat anything else--so it's like his dessert. I was purchasing cheese in the small one-ounce pre-portioned packages, and that's what David was accustomed to receiving at first. The first time I pulled a 5-lb block from the refrigerator, David's eyes got huge with a big smile and he started clapping.
• Other favorite foods are fruit (especially berries), pretzel sticks and chicken. He will often squeal when he wants more food on his tray--so I am always telling him to "Say it nice, David. Ask Mama nicely." So now he will say "Hi" over and over until I get him more of what he wants. He does that 40% of the time. That's 40% less squealing for food, and I'm happy with the progress.
• Yes, he claps. And he waves. And he knows how to put his toy in the other hand when we say "Switch" while we are changing his clothes. He has just started signing "all done." And we are working on folding his arms during the prayer. He'll put his hands together for a few seconds when we ask him to, then quickly join us in our clapping. (We clap for him a lot, and he loves it.) Our favorite thing is probably when he gives us kisses. Big open mouth, slobbery on the cheek kind. It's part of the bedtime routine, and a very happy way to end the day.
• David is very social. In the grocery store, he'll stare down a complete stranger until he catches their eye, then give them the biggest award winning smile. Then he'll move on to the next stranger, and do it again. Did I metion he was social? Just wait until he adds in his cute little "hi." Then he'll really cheer up the shoppers. In church, we keep him facing forward instead of putting him over our shoulder. Why? Because any chance he gets, he'll pop up his little head, give a broad smile and a little wave--all accompanied with some kind of excited jibber jabber. His fan club behind him responds accordingly and we hear a chorus of chuckles and coos. So forward facing for this boy. He makes up for missed social opportunities once he's in the hallway, to be sure. Everyone thinks they are his best friend, and that he remembers them from week to week.

I'm pretty sure that all of these milestones mean that my baby isn't a baby anymore--he is now a toddler boy. But I suppose that since this time:

And this time:

And this time:

Or even this time:

He has come a long way.

We love you, little Buddy. We can't wait to feel the joy that another year of your life will bring to us.

One Man Band

The good news is that David rarely gets into the kitchen cupboards anymore.

Why all the good behavior, you ask?

Well, because he has discovered the kitchen drawers--particularly the large utensil drawer. Every piece he pulls out fits in his hand, they aren't too heavy to lift, and they all make different sounds when he bangs them on the floor.

Don't ask me why he opens all three drawers every time to reach that third drawer. I can't move anything to another spot, because those are the only drawers in our kitchen, and I'm all out of spots that are out of reach. I'm hoping his toy interests mature a little by the time he reaches the next drawer with all the silverware and knives.

The onions coming off the pantry shelves? Soooo "last week"--but occasionally he'll pull them off again just to make sure he still can. The tin can? His favorite toy, now even more favorite with all the banging possibilities. The rug, always rumpled up? That's been the norm, since I've had a crawler. Not because I don't lay it straight. But because every day, he seems to scoot it to the side one more time than I lay it straight. Every. single. day. he ups me by one. The towel, barely hanging on to the oven? Same story as the rug--but it looks like this time he let me tie with him--for just a few minutes, I'm sure.

The cool 1983 linoleum? Well, that's a story for another day . . .

Horsey, Horsey

Sam wears a white shirt and tie to work because he works at a bank. (OK, technically it's a credit union.)

And because he has banker's hours, he gets home earlier in the evenings than he used to.

And all of that leaves him more time to give David horsey rides.

David thinks it's a great arrangement.

Bob(ie) Ross(ette)

Do you remember Bob Ross? If not, maybe this will jog your memory:

That's my bil and nephew at Halloween last year. (Bob Ross was a painter, not a surfer.)

If that' didn't do the trick, think 80's, big hair, painting instructor on TV. I remember watching him with my cousins, dreaming of a day when we could paint like that.

Apparently before he had his own TV show, Bob lived in Alaska, enlisted in the Air Force. While he was here, he taught lots of classes on painting. One of our neighbors happened to be his student--many many times over. When Bob left Alaska, he got out of the Air Force and bought himself a VW van, and travelled all over the lower 48, teaching painting. Eventually he landed a TV deal, and when he died about 3 years ago, he was a multi-millionaire. Our neighbor flew all over the country, taking as many classes as he could from Bob. Then he came back and set up a program where he would fly to villages along the Western coast of Alaska to teach painting in drug and rehab centers. Forty years later, our neighbor is 84, and now he will only teach painting to church groups of 3 or 4 students at a time. It is exhausting to him--so he doesn't do it very often.

But last night was the lucky night for the teenage girls at our church. As one of their youth leaders, I went along--just to watch. We had a group last week in his studio, but only 3 girls of the scheduled 4 showed up. At the end of the evening, I was kicking myself that I didn't jump on that 4th easel.

So when there were 2 open easels at starting time this week, I didn't let the opportunity pass up. I grabbed another leader, and we picked up brushes. At first, our intent was just to "prep" the canvas for the girls that would probably come a little late. Then we put their sky and water in for them, so they would have enough time to finish once they showed up. Then the clouds, then the mountains . . . and I realized that I was doing my own painting! The girls knew to be on time, and I was betting that they wouldn't show up an hour late to an activity when we told them they must be on time. So I finished--four hours after we started (it was a long activity . . . but oh, so worth it. All the parents agreed with the late night once they saw the masterpieces their daughters brought home).

Not bad for a first time, huh? And the best part is--I'm already anxious to pick up another blank canvas and a few paint brushes, and try again. I see many things I would change in this painting. But the instructor said, "Don't change a thing. Just start a new one, then another one after that . . ." A very good instructor, indeed.

Crystal Ice Gallery Tour

Last year I heard about the ice sculpting competition in Anchorage, but just a few days too late. Unfortunately, the weather didn't cooperate and the week of the competition sported a warm front of 40 degrees with rain. That isn't very friendly to our ice friends. So this year, I didn't want to miss it. We went on Saturday afternoon--and we enjoyed watching many of the sculptors at work. The judging wasn't scheduled until Sunday evening, so some of the sculptors hadn't even started. Others were well on their way. And a few were finished enough to really enjoy the fine art that they bring to tour town. Frigid culture at its finest!

David was a great sport about being outside in 17 degree weather. He didn't even mind the extra scarf we tied around his face.

An Anchorage festival just wouldn't be complete without some representation of the canine population. Complete with the puppy model that inspired it all.

We liked this one a lot, maybe because it was most complete. Can you see the grinch climbing down the chimney here? Unfortunately the camera didn't capture the curled-up elf boot that appears to be pushing him off the roof.

This one's for you, Moc. I loved the way the horses seem to be pushing their way through snow, or water, or frozen water, or something. I'd love to see the finished sculpture!

On our way back to the car, we sat David on this sculpted ice chair. He was more thrilled about the whole outing than this photo captures--but maybe the cold was seeping through his layers by this point.

Any ideas . . .

. . . on how a little boy is supposed to get that pretzel farther into his mouth, with hands that are already full of more of the same? David had the pretzel sticking out like this for several minutes while he tried to figure out how to get it in further without putting down his other treasures.