Here She Comes

As I sit in my cozy red chair in the corner of my kitchen which has become my favorite indoor quiet spot, Inna is sitting in a crowded chair in an unfamiliar spot on an airplane.

As I am feeling anxious about her arrival, Inna must be feeling trepidation at the unknowns of the next six weeks.

As we make last minute preparations to make sure her room is just right and we have food that she might eat, Inna may be sleeping, reading or watching a movie. Both of us just trying to occupy ourselves away from our thoughts.

As we lay our heads on our pillow tonight, mine here at home, hers in a hotel in DC, sleep may not come.

Tomorrow we will meet for the first time.

She will not know how many people have been involved in her being here- those that shared her story with us for the first time; those that selflessly raised the money for her trip; those that donated money, furniture, clothes and various other items; and those that installed doors and moved furniture.

She will not know of the love already beginning to grow in our hearts and our desires to see great things happen in her life.

Here she comes.



"I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love."

Mother Teresa

 

The Good Stuff



We have some good friends that were introduced to us by some other friends a couple of years ago. We all go to the same church and live about 5 minutes from each other. While the love of God is a nice thing to share with friends, we have something else. Something HUGE...the love of Gamecock football! We began a Saturday ritual during football season of getting together to watch the game, eat fantastic food, and drink a few beers.

But there are some things we don't have in common. Mainly two...they are WAY younger than us. By 'way", I mean when we met they were both in their 20's. Which I think just shows how cool Jimmy and I are. (Taylor Swift was referring to us and meant to say "I'm looking 22.") And secondly, they are still enjoying life as a couple without kids. As in, they just went to Italy. Together. With no one else.

Over the past few years they have seen our family grow and some of their friends begin to have children as well. They are in that annoying stage where people ask you "So, when are you guys going to have kids." As if we have a right to know the intricacies of someone else's family planning. But they are often around all the stories of our kids. And by stories I mean bitching. You know...the girls night where we talk about how we don't get any sleep, Davis colored with Sharpie all over (well, fill in the blank), and we are so glad school is out b/c we will have a few weeks without having to pack all those lunches.

I was apologizing to my friend Sunday for one such night of too much kid talk, and she laughed and said something like, "I'm just not becoming convinced of why people have kids. Everyone I am around makes it sound horrible." Ouch. How true is that? I told her that I would start to make a point of telling her The Good Stuff.

I could go in many different directions from this one conversation... How we as parents need this time to commiserate together so we know we are not alone in the daily job of raising healthy kids. How being a parent teaches you even more about loving Jesus than any other experience I have had. How parenting requires a love where many days you give much more than you receive.

But instead I want to share the story I shared Sunday with my friend. Not for anyone other than for me. I want to remember these stories. I am thankful to my friend for the reminder to celebrate them. So occasionally, I am going to take the time to write them down here and title them The Good Stuff.

 

 

The Good Stuff: Da Life

Saturday night brought SB's first slumber party. She and 3 sweet friends had a great time of bowling, painting, making homemade whip cream and being movie stars in their very own iMovie trailer. They actually slept until 7:30 on Sunday. As Jimmy and I were lying there listening to them begin to whisper and talk in their tent, Gabre woke up crying. She generally wakes up very happy, so I went right in and got her and brought her back in the bed with us. She laid on me snuggling for a good 10 minutes. I rubbed her back, she rubbed my arm. Jimmy tried to talk to her a couple of times, but she just wasn't ready. Then with her head  still down on my chest she said something I couldn't make out. I said, "What?" She said it again, "Da Life". Jimmy her interpreter said, "The life."
When our family is really enjoying something/ some time together we will say, "This is the life." G was sharing how lying in bed on a Sunday morning with her parents in her eyes is "Da Life.".

And that my friends is some of Da Good Stuff.