Jace
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
I800 Approval....
Came in yesterdays mail....We have one more letter to wait for until I get my travel approval. I need an NVC letter before they can send for the TA. The end of the process is near! I cannot believe it is finally here! Jace should be home by the end of July--I am hoping! I could be wrong, but things are moving swiftly, thanks be to God!! I am praying I can be back from China in time for Ava's brithday on the 29th. Can you imagine Jace seeing a birthday party at the Pierro's? All of those people??? And all of those children?? Makes me smile just thinking about it! My guess is, he'll get used to it...*wink, wink*
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Jace's Quilt
It's finally finished! The picture as promised...
Thank you to everyone who sent me fabric and buttons! It's so cute! Nicholas wants one too so I have left over fabric to do his. They will look so cute on their bunk beds...
Things should be moving along in the next few weeks....In fact, I'm thinking I will know a travel date by the end of the month! I will keep you posted!
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Home
Nick: “Mommy? Can you hold me tighter?”
Me: “Sure buddy, I’d love to.”
I wrap my arm around his little body and pull him closer. I love snuggling with my little boy. Most parents can’t sleep with toddlers. They kick you, punch you…talk in their sleep. Their small bodies are like the hands of a clock. Always turning-winding themselves around your bed. Sometimes, while fast asleep, you’ll feel the pounding of two toddler feet smack in the middle of the back.
Nick: “Mommy?”
Me: “Hmm?”
My eyes are feeling very heavy at this point. I really do not want to talk. All day we talk. We argue. We negotiate. It’s exhausting. Now, I don’t want to do anything but sleep.
Nick: “Mommy, I really want you to hold me tighter”.
Me: (yawning) “Ok, Buddy.”
With that I slide my bottom arm under his pillow where his head is resting. He is quiet now. Within moments I am sweating and uncomfortable. I start to remove my top arm when he quickly reaches for my wrist, locking my arm in his clutch.
Me: “Nick, Buddy...are you afraid?”
Nick: “Yeess”, he says in an almost whine.
Me: “Of what, Honey? Mommy is right here, ” I say convincingly.
Nick: “Of that closet. I’m afraid something will come out of there and get me.”
Me: “Buddy! There’s NOTHING in that closet but mommy’s clothes. How in the
world could mommy’s clothes get you?”
Nick: “Uh-huh, Mom…something’s in there. It’s scares me.”
Me: “Honey, nothing will ever come and get you. Not out of that closet and not in this house, ok? Your mommy is right here. You are completely safe.”
As I lay there waiting for him to fall asleep, I wonder where that fear came from. Did he watch something on tv? A cartoon, perhaps? This is a new fear of his. It’s never been an issue before.
A little later I notice a heavier, more rhythmic breathing. I can finally remove that upper arm that is starting to tingle now-or at least I thought I could. Slowly, I start to withdraw but he retaliates, even in sleep, quickly grabbing my arm and tucking it back under his side.
How does a child sense, while sleeping, that he is no longer safe because he is not wrapped in his momma’s arms? How does his body react to again find that safe place? I read once that if you put a newborn in bed with his mother-even a short distance away from her body-that newborn will eventually wriggle its way back to her nurturing breast.* It’s not only a safe clutch…it’s home. Not the physical structure where we live, or go to everyday after work or school. No. This is more than that. Our God given senses tell us where home is. Home is intangible. It is a deep sense of love, of belonging, of family.
What about Jace? What is home for Jace? There are no warm bodies lying next to him at night stroking his cheek or kissing his head. There is no mothers’ neck in which to nestle him into a restful sleep. No smell of her skin, or hum from her lips. What is his home? Is it the flicker of the flouresant lighting he sees over his crib? Is it the hustle of a crowded playroom filled with multicolored toys? Or maybe the routine of mealtime scheduled precisely on a specific hour.
That is not the home I want for my son. I want him here, with me-with us. I want him to be part of this exhausting, talking all day, arguing, negotiating family. I want to see him smile. I want to see him playing with his brother and sister. I want to wrestle him into the bathtub and convince him that I will always win at ‘it’s time to brush your teeth’. I want to be there at bedtime. But mostly, I want him to fall asleep in the comforting arms of his momma. I want him home.
Home. I know what it is here on this earth- the overflow of safety and love -the gentleness of a comforting touch. But there is one much larger scale of my instinctual definition of ‘home’. Only this home is not intangible. This home is a Promise that God gives us-a place that He has prepared for us. * One that waits with open arms, a loving embrace, and a grip unbreakable. An incomprehensible awe.
Lord, as I prepare a home for Jace, let it be one that is emulated by your Son, Jesus Christ. Let it be abundant in Love and Grace. Let your arms of Protection embrace us…Your Light and Word direct us…Let Peace dwell in our hearts forever until you call us Home…
References:
• /www.thebabyswebsite.com/what-babies-know/babies-know-how-to-find-theirc-mother-s-breast-and-how-to-feed-themselves.html
• John Chapter 14
Me: “Sure buddy, I’d love to.”
I wrap my arm around his little body and pull him closer. I love snuggling with my little boy. Most parents can’t sleep with toddlers. They kick you, punch you…talk in their sleep. Their small bodies are like the hands of a clock. Always turning-winding themselves around your bed. Sometimes, while fast asleep, you’ll feel the pounding of two toddler feet smack in the middle of the back.
Nick: “Mommy?”
Me: “Hmm?”
My eyes are feeling very heavy at this point. I really do not want to talk. All day we talk. We argue. We negotiate. It’s exhausting. Now, I don’t want to do anything but sleep.
Nick: “Mommy, I really want you to hold me tighter”.
Me: (yawning) “Ok, Buddy.”
With that I slide my bottom arm under his pillow where his head is resting. He is quiet now. Within moments I am sweating and uncomfortable. I start to remove my top arm when he quickly reaches for my wrist, locking my arm in his clutch.
Me: “Nick, Buddy...are you afraid?”
Nick: “Yeess”, he says in an almost whine.
Me: “Of what, Honey? Mommy is right here, ” I say convincingly.
Nick: “Of that closet. I’m afraid something will come out of there and get me.”
Me: “Buddy! There’s NOTHING in that closet but mommy’s clothes. How in the
world could mommy’s clothes get you?”
Nick: “Uh-huh, Mom…something’s in there. It’s scares me.”
Me: “Honey, nothing will ever come and get you. Not out of that closet and not in this house, ok? Your mommy is right here. You are completely safe.”
As I lay there waiting for him to fall asleep, I wonder where that fear came from. Did he watch something on tv? A cartoon, perhaps? This is a new fear of his. It’s never been an issue before.
A little later I notice a heavier, more rhythmic breathing. I can finally remove that upper arm that is starting to tingle now-or at least I thought I could. Slowly, I start to withdraw but he retaliates, even in sleep, quickly grabbing my arm and tucking it back under his side.
How does a child sense, while sleeping, that he is no longer safe because he is not wrapped in his momma’s arms? How does his body react to again find that safe place? I read once that if you put a newborn in bed with his mother-even a short distance away from her body-that newborn will eventually wriggle its way back to her nurturing breast.* It’s not only a safe clutch…it’s home. Not the physical structure where we live, or go to everyday after work or school. No. This is more than that. Our God given senses tell us where home is. Home is intangible. It is a deep sense of love, of belonging, of family.
What about Jace? What is home for Jace? There are no warm bodies lying next to him at night stroking his cheek or kissing his head. There is no mothers’ neck in which to nestle him into a restful sleep. No smell of her skin, or hum from her lips. What is his home? Is it the flicker of the flouresant lighting he sees over his crib? Is it the hustle of a crowded playroom filled with multicolored toys? Or maybe the routine of mealtime scheduled precisely on a specific hour.
That is not the home I want for my son. I want him here, with me-with us. I want him to be part of this exhausting, talking all day, arguing, negotiating family. I want to see him smile. I want to see him playing with his brother and sister. I want to wrestle him into the bathtub and convince him that I will always win at ‘it’s time to brush your teeth’. I want to be there at bedtime. But mostly, I want him to fall asleep in the comforting arms of his momma. I want him home.
Home. I know what it is here on this earth- the overflow of safety and love -the gentleness of a comforting touch. But there is one much larger scale of my instinctual definition of ‘home’. Only this home is not intangible. This home is a Promise that God gives us-a place that He has prepared for us. * One that waits with open arms, a loving embrace, and a grip unbreakable. An incomprehensible awe.
Lord, as I prepare a home for Jace, let it be one that is emulated by your Son, Jesus Christ. Let it be abundant in Love and Grace. Let your arms of Protection embrace us…Your Light and Word direct us…Let Peace dwell in our hearts forever until you call us Home…
References:
• /www.thebabyswebsite.com/what-babies-know/babies-know-how-to-find-theirc-mother-s-breast-and-how-to-feed-themselves.html
• John Chapter 14
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