Thursday, February 28, 2013

Mmmm, it does go well with the chicken. Delicious again, Peter*

Yes, yes.  I wrote about how I hate cooking.  And that's true.  But the new house is changing things.  And the fact that soon there will be six of us making eating out super expensive. So here we are: in my kitchen, with me cooking. 

I'm not a fan of the 4pm "oh my gosh what are we going to eat?" panic.  Apparently, I'm not alone.



So from time to time I'm going to post my culinary adventures.  I say adventures because sometimes they aren't so great.  But sometimes I just hit it out of the park. 

 Tonight's dinner?  HOMEMADE CHIK-FIL-A!!!



I found the recipe on  Pinterest {see below}.  Homemade and politics-free Chik-Fil-A nuggets.



It basically is just pan fried cut up white chicken with one secret ingredient:  PICKLE JUICE.


  It was super easy and super tasty.  Henry must've eaten about 14 nuggets.  I made the honey mustard sauce as well.  It was NOT good.  {Thank God we had a leftover CFA sauce in the fridge!} 

Gracie preferred hers with ketchup.

The "french fries" were just roasted potatoes cut to look like fries.  I took two mammoth Russets, cut them into fries, lined a cookie sheet so that none of them were overlapping.  Then I painted them with EVOO and sprinkled with sea salt.  I baked them about 45 minutes at 350 degrees. 

All in all it was about 20 minutes prep time of cutting up chicken and tators (which I did this morning).  Then about 15 minutes in hands on frying time.  2 tots, 1 package of tenderloins from a the batch I bought at Costco, an egg, an apple, pickle juice, and some flower. 

Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy.  

*If  you don't get this Beastie Boys Reference, I'm sorry for you.  Really.  


Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Perspective: Get a New One




One of the benefits of orphan care is the new perspective it gives you on so many things.  The tentacles of caring for the orphaned reach into many arenas—oppression, poverty, social justice, greed, and just all around selfishness.  It taps into the brokenness of this world at its core: relationships.   As God has changed the physical make-up of my family, He has changed my heart as well.  He is tearing down the barriers between us and them.  He is opening up our eyes to the truth.  “Those” people are beloved by God.  So am I.  Which means “those” people are mine and I am theirs.  There is, in fact, no them.                
                      
Despite having lost our referral of J, a boy with Cerebral Palsy, my heart changed.  I am appalled at the flippant way I used jokingly use the R word or crack jokes about men being like handicapped parking spots.  Sure, I wasn’t mean to people out right, but in the dark, I felt better than THEM.  But when I loved a THEM, THEM became MINE.  So I suspect that when Jesus told us to love and serve the least of them, he wasn’t just issuing a mandate of missional living, but showing us our hearts.  We are them.  

We live in a disposable culture.  We have disposable silverware, plates, clothes, food.  I’m not sure if half of my kids will get more than one meal today.  So I’ll be damned if I’m going to waste the food in my refrigerator.  It’s offensive, really.  Those starving kids in Africa that your mom told you to clear your plate for?  Those are my kids.  Meanwhile, I throw out a half eaten banana left in the playroom or an unopened bag of salad that has liquefied in my crisper drawer. 

 The other night I saw an ad for something called the Wraptastic.  For just shy of $11, you can buy a plastic box to help you cut your foil and saran wrap.  You know, just in case you don’t like the way the box that they come in does it for you.  People, get some perspective.  Donate that $11 to a clean water initiative.  Use it to buy food to put in your local food bank.  Because to pay money to neatly wrap your leftovers that you’ll most likely toss in two days is just freaking ridiculous.  I mean, there are kids who die from diseases because they have no shoes and you pay money to decorate your saran wrap that is stored in a drawer?  Puh-lease.  

I don’t mean to sound all bitter and angry.  

 I’m just as bad.  We get segregated.  We hang out with people who look and act and work and shop and vote and educate only like us.  We have no perspective of the them.   We don’t love them because we don’t even know them.  But Jesus was intentional.  He walked different routes than the usual just to connect and intersect and relate to and love them.  (And this isn’t even counting the whole, you know, leaving heaven to come to earth trek.)

It took maybe three weeks of living in our new neighborhood until I said to Sloan, “How did we ever survive in a house with such a small yard?”  And if you’d heard my tone of voice you would’ve understood was that I was really saying “We used to live in a dump, can you even imagine?”  Three weeks in an older golf course neighborhood and I equated our former subdivision with a hovel.  So while I don’t live in poverty, my heart is distended from the way I’ve fed only my selfishness and not my self-denial.  Father, forgive me.

This is why we serve.  This is why segregation of race, class, political leaning, ethnicity, educational level is so harmful.  We navel gaze and get stuck on only our vantage point.   We get stuck in some #firstworldproblem loop.  We lose our grasp on the difference between wants and needs.  In the past week I’ve convinced myself I need the following—a new Ipad mini {because my first gen Ipad is sooooo big and soooo slow}, a remote control for my bedroom light {because I have to actually get out of bed at night and walk three feet to turn it off, I mean I might as well live in a prison!},  a fancy cheese cutting board {because I have to use an actual knife and cutting board like some sort of backwoods hobo}, and of course, I’m always convinced I need a new minivan because the Suburban is eleven years old, a gas guzzler, and (gasp!) you have to actually open the doors with your hands!  Father, forgive me.

Here is what I actually need:  Jesus.  

That is all.  

I don’t need Him to give me better eyesight but to actually give me new eyes.  I don’t need him just to adjust the way I love, but to completely replace my old shriveled heart with his resurrected one.  I don’t need him to just tend and prune my wants, but to outright burn and til under my old wants and then plant new ones.  C.S Lewis describes this complete overhaul of self and perspective this way: 

“Christ says . . . I want You. I have not come to torment your natural self, but to kill it.  No half measures are any good. I don't want to cut off a branch here and a branch there, I want to have the whole tree down . . .the whole natural self, all the desires which you think innocent as well as
the ones you think wicked—the whole outfit. I will give you a new self instead. In fact, I will give you Myself: My own will shall become yours.”

So you see, there is no us and them.  There is only Us and Him. 

Friday, February 22, 2013

WINNER WINNER CHICKEN DINNER

Soooo trying to figure out the best way to collate all the likes & shares to figure out the winner of the Do Justice Tshirt made my brain ache. And I'm not entirely certain I was clear in my directions. So to simplify I gave everyone who liked the Blog 1 entry & then 1 additional entry for each share, like, and/or comment on the specific Tshirt post.

All in all there were 86 entries. I wrote them all out while watching the Season Finale of Suits. {Sidebar: USA, your seasons are too short. I don't care if Harvey is coming back this summer,I want him now. All the time. But thanks for bringing Dule Hill back next week.}

Then I popped over to the random number generator. Aaaaaaaand the winner is: SARAH BYRD! Friend, writer extraordinaire, former boss. Let me know your size & color preference and you get your Do Justice Tshirt for free!

For those of you who waited to order in hopes of winning, don't worry. We will still take your money. The first printing of the Tshirts have been ordered. We had around 60 pre-orders, but ordered more to fill incoming orders. And we can (and hope to need to) order more.

So shop away my friends! 100% of the proceeds go to helping us bring Charles & Mollie home.





Thursday, February 21, 2013

Gollum, Repentence, and a craft project {an adoption update}



I am a member of several online groups of waiting adoptive parents.  Some specific to the Congo and some even specific to our agency.  It has been a great way to contain the crazy to a group of people who are equally insane.  We know the process, the procedures, the possible road blocks, so it is a great comfort to be in community with these men and women.  There is even a group of Congolese adoptive families in the Richmond area and we are hosting a pot luck get together at our house in March.  {What a gift THIS group will be in the years to come!}

But as much as these connections are a blessing, they are also, in my selfish hands, a curse.  With each post or email about another family’s progress, my heart sunk.  I would click “like” or post “Woot!” when inside I was screaming “WILL IT EVER BE MY TURN?  WHEN DO I GET MINE?”  

The jealousy crept in and festered.  We were hoping for an update about our case on Valentine’s Day.  By Saturday, with no update, I had convinced myself that these adoptions were never going to happen.  We were wrong.  We were wasting money and our time and our hearts and OH MY GOSH the people who bought our old house bought a new minivan and if we weren’t adopting I’d have already put 10k miles on a Swagger Wagon.  On Sunday, other adoptive Mommas posted about how they’d gotten new pictures, or there judgments were in translation, immigration papers were filed, or visas were issued and plane tickets were being purchased.  I clicked “like” and seethed.  

I confess that what I’m about to type is ugly.  Like “I’ll get you and your little dog too!” ugly.  This is what I thought.  Why do these people keep getting updates and I do not?  Why can’t anything ever be easy with us?  Really?  The time I was in labor for 11 weeks and almost died.  THAT was the easiest way for us to grow our family?  What the heck is God doing?  Or not doing as the case may be?  I gave up my friggin minivan and a beach vacation and thousands of dollars and am crafting like some sweat shop worker and nothing is happening.  GOD CAN’T YOU SEE ME?  WHEN AM I GONNA GET MINE?

These thoughts haunted me.  I have spent the past two night not sleeping, instead lying in bed, checking my email to see if I had any news from my case worker and simultaneously cursing God and his seemed incompetence.  Every now and then I’d have a lucent thought like “Maybe you should bathe tomorrow” or “God is for you and your kids.  You have not been forgotten.” or “Buy milk.”  

This morning in Jo-Ann's it was full on {warning: crazy churchy talk ahead} spiritual warfare.  I mean it.  It was a Gollum style war for my heart.

Voice 1:  At what point in this process do you just send out a big email and tell people that you were wrong and then start paying people back? 
Voice 2:  Be still and know that I am God.
Voice 1:  I can’t believe the family that sent their dossier over in January has already heard.  Your case worker hates you.  And I bet that family is totally lame.  I hope their visas get denied.
Voice 2:  Have I not commanded you?  Be strong and courageous.  Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.
Voice 1: It’s been three minutes since you checked your email.  Why aren’t you checking your email?
Voice 2:Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.
Voice 1:  No email.  God is punishing you because you thought you were supposed to adopt from China.
Voice 2:  For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba!  Father!”
Voice 1:  Abba!  Father!  I am mad at you.  I think your timing sucks.  Sorry for that, but I do.  Can’t you see that I am hurting?  Can’t you see me?  Can’t you see them?  Forgive me for thinking my timing is best.  Forgive me.  Forgive me.  Help me!  Help me!  How long must I wait?  How long?  Oooh!  Sharpies are 40% off!  It totally makes sense to buy 8 black sharpies.

My apologies to the lady at the register who had to check out the crazy crying lady with all of the sharpies. 

But folks, God has not forgotten us.  While sitting in carpool line for Henry, I got an email.  An email from our case worker {who most certainly does not hate us}.  WE HAVE MADE IT TO THE NEXT STEP IN OUR ADOPTION!  

In the Congolese court system, there are basically three steps:  court date, a written judgment, and a thirty day wait period before an official ACTE OF ADOPTION can be doled out.  We are now past step two.  We are in our thirty day wait period. {Also pray for us, because in theory, a family member could still come forward for them.}  And because it is basically the only certain time frame we will be sure of in this entire process, we are counting down the days.  


We told the kids that a judged said that Charles and Mollie were really and truly their brother and sister.  Henry ran around in circles screaming “HAVING A BROTHER IS AWESOME!”  Gracie jumped up and down on the couch {though to be fair, she does that a lot}.  Sloan and I drank Orange Soda and the kids had chocolate milk.  Then we set out to make a paper chain to count down our thirty days.  


This does NOT mean we will be traveling in a month.  We are still thinking summer.  There are still lots of steps in the process after we exit court.  Immigration.  But we are moving forward.  Inch by inch.  Loop by loop.

Charles and Mollie, just as Jesus has not left us, we will not leave you as orphans, we will come for you!

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

meet the sweetness



I’ve been hesitant to write this or say this out loud for fear of jinxing us.  But I’m going to do it.  

Grace has exited the terrible twos.  

People, her twos were terrible.  Thank you to my dear friends who didn’t judge me but prayed for me as I cried and cried in a mall play place because I just couldn’t bear to face another day of it.  I am thankful for the phase teaching me to rely on Jesus to redeem all of mistakes and to prepare me for the extraordinary high maintenance parenting that is in my future.  The long and short of it is that I just cannot self-produce love and Grace’s terrible twos helped to completely dash that illusion. 
If nothing else, Grace’s “terrible two” phase taught me that it’s not just Lent that is for repentance.  Because I had to repent every.single.day for the way I was impatient, exasperated, and just all around hard-hearted with her.  And still, God and the girl love me. 

Ever since Thanksgiving, she has softened.  It is as though we are getting to meet our daughter for the first time and we adore her.  We get to meet the soft and kind and spunky girly-girl that her preschool teachers kept telling us about, rather than the tiny terrorist that once sat at our kitchen table.

So allow me to re-introduce you to our daughter.

This girl loves her Daddy.  She wants to sit by him at every meal and adores bounding into our room in the morning to give him his wake-up snuggles.  But she also adores me.  Beyond explanation.  Apparently all those times I lost my temper while sitting with her on the steps didn’t scar her.  She cradles my face and tells me she loves me, she really loves me.

She loves to sing and bounce.  In particular, she loves Hip Hop music.  I’m embarrassed to confess that if she asks about Beauty and the Beast, she isn’t referring to Belle and the Disney Classic.  She is requesting Justin Beiber.  She also requests “Tay-bor Wift”, “Kesha”, and “Twift Pop”.  She has, on more than one occasion, had a full on temper tantrum because I could not find “Juttin Beeeeeeeeeeber” on the radio.  At some point, I’m going to have to break down and download some of her faves.  I also may have taught my kids that Britney is singing “Britney Ditch.”  Just play along.  

She has never seen a musical she doesn’t love.  Her current favorite is the Wizard of Oz and she is usually singing “Oh ee oh, yo um” or chanting “Lions and Tigers and Bears! Oh my!”

She continues to be a picky eater.  We’ve stopped fighting her on this and are just resigned to the fact that she may only eat breakfast some days.  She would prefer to only eat carbs and dairy.  Oh, and bacon.
 
She was super easy to potty train.  Two days after we made the plunge to panties, Sloan and I put together the boys’ bunk beds (meaning we ignored the kids all day long).  No potty accidents.  She even forgets to asks for a treat sometimes and has woken up with dry pull-ups on many occasions.  I assure you that we have done nothing unique for this.  She is just independent. 

She can dress herself, brush her own teeth, sloppily make her bed, and is all around very helprful.  Not in that “oh we will let our three year old help to instill a work ethic even though it adds hours to the process”, but actually helpful.  She can vacuum, dust, straighten pillows, empty the dishwasher, fold napkins and blankets, bring in groceries, push the little grocery cart without killing anyone and even help Henry get dressed.  She even attempts to pour her own milk.  This, um, is NOT actually helpful.

While I didn’t want to confess it, I’m certain that part of the delays in our adoption journey were to give Grace time to mature a bit and to teach me that I can rely on Jesus to do his work in our children’s lives. 

Thank you Jesus for using my stubborn daughter on my stubborn heart.  Please continue.

Friday, February 15, 2013

Fundraising Friday: Facebook Auction Coming in April!



Starting April 7th, I will be hosting an online Fundraising Auction to help us raise money for our adoption expenses.  The auction will run from Sunday , April 7th at 1 pm until Saturday, April 13th at 8pm.  I will create an album of pics of items for you to preview the week before over on the Elizabethtown Blog Facebook Page.  {So, you know, you should totally "like it".  You can do so on the sidebar over there <-------- all="" are="" br="" cool="" doing="" it.="" kids="" nbsp="" the="">

I would love it if you had an item you would be willing to donate.  Maybe you own a small business and could offer up a gift card to said business.  Perhaps you enjoy sewing and could make a dress to sell.  Or perhaps you sell a product?  Or maybe you have relatively few skills but know how to buy a gift card at Kroger.  {We will auction off the gift card, you can keep the bonus gas points.}
No worries if you do not live in the Richmond area.  Some items WILL be limited to the RVA area.  But most things are shippable.  Or maybe you are a photographer in Winnipeg.  Well, I could post that you are donating a photography session on the auction.  You could then blast your business’ clients to advertise and they could bid and it would all get taken care of in Winnipeg.  {wherever that is…}  

For larger items, you can either ship them to me and I can take a picture for the auction and ship to the winner, or you can email me a picture of the item and then you would just ship the item to the winner directly.  So long as the item is shipped in a timely manner, it’s all the same to me.  Whatever is easiest for you.

Or perhaps you have no skills and no money but do have a facebook account….well as it gets closer I will be calling all of my peeps to donate their Facebook Status advertising about the auction to get people to bid on items. 

Or maybe your grandma gave you a bathrobe for Christmas and you haven’t even unwrapped it from it’s packaging because who needs a 7th bathrobe?  Yeah, we can auction that off too. Just so long as it is a new item.

Things people have already donated thus far:  2 $25 Fandango Gift Cards, $100 Amex Gift Card, A new in Box Rumba vacuum, 31 products, a custom painted painting, ABERNATHY BLAND ART {holy freaking cow, y'all, this is wicked awesome!!!}, a Scentsy stuffed animal with an insert, a handmade custom quilt, a handmade custom mesh wreath, a credit for an Origami Owl necklace, Handmade boutique jewelry, as well as many of my own PlumPanda creations such as necklaces, picture frames, hair accessories, and wreaths.  Some of the stuff is being donated by relative strangers—I posted about it on some adoptive mommy forums I’m a member of and have been blown away by the generosity of others.  

What a treat it will be to recount to our children how many folks God used to knit our family together.