We are the people of Walmart...

You may have heard of the People of Walmart website.  It showcases some of the great unwashed that invariably shop at Walmart on a daily basis.  Today, the Phillips family deserved to enter its ranks...

For starters, at Christmastime, our local Walmart has a Salvation Army bell ringer.  But ours is no surly Santa.  We get the A-team of SA bell-ringers: the horn players.  Sometimes it is a trumpeter, sometimes a French hornist, today it was an Irish Tuba Player.  (The musician being Irish, not sure what type of Tuba it was.)  Well, we always let Henry put a coin in the bucket.  He thinks this is loads of fun.  It also sparked the following real conversation...

Henry:  Why you playing music?
Musician:  To celebrate Christmas.
Henry:  Like Swoder?  (Can you tell we've been watching A Charlie Brown Christmas?)
Me:  He is playing music for Jesus' birthday.
Henry:  Oh.  We having a birtday party for Jesus at my house.  We decowated a a tree and put bows on my house. 
Musician:  That sounds lovely.
Henry:  YES!  JESUS IS COMING TO MY HOUSE AND SANTA IS BRINGING HIM PRESENTS!!!  (The stuff he comes up with still surprises me.)
Musician: Oh, great.  Do you have a favorite Christmas song you want me to play for Jesus?
Henry:  How 'bout* Happy Birtday?
Musician (laughing): Well, it is Jesus' birthday, but that's really not a Christmas song.  Do you like Joy to the World?
Henry:  Yes.  Joy.  Mommy sing it with him.

And so THAT is how it came to be that I stood in front of our local Walmart singing Joy to the World while my children danced around a man playing a tuba.  Bonus points for me for not having bathed today and still singing in public. 

But before you sigh and say "Awww" at my wonderful love for my son, let me recount the way we left Walmart.

As we were checking out, Henry told me he needed to go potty.  I told him to hold it, that we were almost through.  (Literally, my wallet was already out.)  I was making sure I had my gift cards put away that I'd purchased for his teachers when suddenly I could not find him.  I was frantic.  I began yelling, "Henry, Henry, where are you?"  expecting to hear him yell, "I right here, Mommy!" 

Nothing.  Also, let it be stated that no one in Walmart seemed to care that I'd lost my child.

I asked the cashier if she'd seen my little boy.  She said, "I think he went into the bathroom."  So I grabbed Gracie from the cart and ran to the bathrooms.  As I neared, I again yelled his name. 

Coming from the men's bathroom, I heard, "I right here, Mommy.  I go pee pee standing up!  I pee pee standing up!"  (We've just recently made the transition from sitting to standing, so this is a BIG deal for him. For those of you with only daughters, see what you miss?)

Then my son waddled like a penguin out from the men's room with his Wall-E undies and pants around his ankles, dragging his coat on the floor behind him.  That's right, my son was nekkid from the waist down at Walmart.

Part of me was happy that my son took initiative and went to the potty by himself.**  He hasn't even done this at home before.  It's always, "Mommy, I need to go potty.  Help me with my pants.  Help me with the seat..."  But a larger part was horrified by the fact that my 3 year old son was alone. In the public restroom. At Walmart.  And then was half-naked. In Walmart. 

It also occurred to me that I can in no way guarantee that my son actually peed in the proper urine receptical.  Most likely, he peed on the floor. 

But, he did it while standing up!



*"How 'bout" is Henry's new phrase that pays.  As in, "How 'bout you give me chocolate milk?", or "How 'bout we play for five more minutes?", or my personal favorite, "How 'bout...no."

**Yes.  I chastized him for going to the bathroom in a public place alone.  I told him that he was too cute to be by himself in a potty that wasn't at home or school.  That someone might take him from us and that would make me sad.  I also told him it was against the rules to leave my side when we are running errands and that if he ever went to the potty in public without me or Daddy or an adult he knows, he would be punished.  And yes, I did this all while refraining from laughing as the thought of him waddling into Walmart after peeing on the floor played in my mind.  Once again, bonus points for Mommy.

51,439

And I'm pretty sure that about 35, 827 of them are complete rubbish.  Oh well. It's a first draft.  And no, you cannot read it.

To quote my beloved writing professor and uber-awesome author, Doris Betts, "To allow someone to read your first draft is like spitting in your palm before you shake someone's hand."

But rest assured, at least one of you, will be tapped to read draft three or so.   (I'm thinking of a certain lady with twins who also studied under Betts--because, you know, with twin 3 yr olds, I'm sure you have LOADS of free time...)

My Bumper Sticker should read...

"My kids are cooler than your kids." 

 Seriously.  Look at this stud "helping" his Dad do yardwork. 

Rolling Stones hat?  Check.  Super Rad Eighties throw back Nike Hightops?  Check. 

Thomas sippy cup?  Check.

 

And I'm pretty sure she's the only person to EVER look good with egg on her face!

2200 words down memory lane...

Dearest Henry,
Today I wrote about the day your Daddy and I first met you--September 15, 2006. You were 8 cells big. Your Uncle Biff prayed about how big God is and our desperate desire to hold you and then we watched you on an ultrasound screen. You amazed us.
Also today you picked out your own clothes for a lunch date with your Auntie Robin. You wore a sweater vest and a sport coat with patches on the elbows. You even wore your church shoes. You looked like a college professor. You only talked about trains twice at lunch. I was so proud of you.
So if you need to hide under the couch pillows for 30 minutes tomorrow because you are mad at me for saying no to a second episode of Thomas, it's okay. You still amaze me.

Month of National Things...

You may (or may not) have been wondering why there has been less frequent blogging going on as of late.  Several reasons...

1.  NaNoWriMo...aka National Novel Writing Month.
It's a challenge to write a complete novel in one month.  Or, to be more exact, to write 50,000 words in the month of November.  The rules stipulate that it is to be from scratch and to be fiction.  I am breaking those rules a bit as I am working on "the book" that I seem to have been working on forever, namely a memoir regarding how God brought Henry into our family.  So it looks at infertility, assisted reproductive technologies, and bed rest.  (Yes, there are notes in place for a book about our adoption journey as well, but Maria said to start at the very beginning...it's a very good place to start...)  So it doesn't really fit the fiction criteria.  But I am pretty much starting from scratch, working from my outline that I had finished, emails, and my old blog posts.  Well, I'm sure I'll look at the blog when I get to the bed rest portion of the book.  As it is, I'm 24, 432 words in and I'm not even pregnant with Henry yet.  I've just had my second miscarriage and am pretty loopy on fertility hormones. 

I don't feel too bad about breaking the fiction rule.  For a couple of reasons.  A) This really isn't a rule that has much to do with integrity, character, or God's law, so I'm pretty sure I can break it with a clear conscience.  B) I think the whole point of the NaNoWriMo thing is for wanna-be writers to get off their butts and actually write rather than just write about writing.  So in that regard, I am keeping the "spirit of the law".  C) I just read What is the What.  It is a memoir of one of the lost boys of Sudan and yet it calls itself a novel because the narrator readily admits that he can't remember all of the details.  Can't remember word for word conversations.  But that we as readers can expect that it is a true story.  It should also be said I think this book should become required reading for high schoolers.  And, as such, required reading for all those who read this blog.  D) I am calling the genre "Fictionalized Nonfiction" and am quite certain there are entire sections that are fiction.  Not that they didn't happen, just that I'm pretty certain I've edited out a lot of f-bombs that were tossed in Sloan's direction during this era of our marriage.  I think I may have also made myself look cooler in the section where Sloan and I first met.  If you think this is unfair, write your own book!

Lest you worry I've cleaned it up too much dear reader, I have written in the episode where I yelled out my car window "F-off!" to a pregnant teenager walking down Broad street smoking a cigarette.  And the episode where, after our second miscarriage, I single handedly in an afternoon drank a magnum of Red wine, smoked a half pack of cigarettes and ate a family sized bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos.  Because let's face it, those are both funny, if not good, stories.

2. National Adoption Month...
I've spoken at Orphan Sunday.  We've gone to a fundraiser for Bethany Christian Services in NC, and I've been working on an article about Gracie's birthday party for a Bethany newsletter. 
My heart has been in overdrive; there is such a crisis!  But let me just share with you a couple of exciting things I learned this past weekend while at the Bethany fundraiser.
Bethany Christian Services has a program in place in Africa that seeks to care for orphans by reducing the number of them, as in, as a part of orphan care they provide support to families where the head of the house is a single mom who is HIV+.  They provide monies for the mother's medication and also for the children's school tuition.  I think this is awesome as it seeks to keep the families together.  This is in addition to the orphanages they also fund, support, and run in various African regions.
The second thing that I think is awesome about Bethany Christian Services is that they have recently been granted permission to set up a foster care system in China.  There is NOTHING of this nature in place in the country.  Bethany is currently training and setting up a system where 250 children will be placed in loving homes to be cared for rather than growing up in orphanages.  Yes, there are far more than 250 children in need of such care, but it is a start. 

I don't know what to do with this information...

Tonight my husband told me the following:

"Loving you is like renting a Crown Vic and there being a slammin' CD in the player."

I guess that's good?

A Real Conversation

(Alternate titles:  Fairy tales for the 21st century and beyond, or Redefining Gender Roles)

Henry: (as he pulls all of the couch cushions on top of himself) OK, Gracie.  I'm da dwagon.  You da Pwincess.  I am hiding in da cave.  Come and save me!  Pwincess Gwacie, come and save da Henwe dwagon!

Grace: (toddling over to the shaking pile of pillows on the floor)  Ba-ba!  Ba-ba!  Ba-Ba! (She pulls one pillow over then launches herself at her brother.)

Henry:  (As he kisses his sister.)  Thank you, thank you, beautiful Pwincess Gracie!  You saved the dwagon!  You win a hug!  (He bear hugs the Princess.)

Grace:  Doo-doo-da-da-bbllllleeee...

Henry:  Ok, Gwacie.  I hide in da pillows again.  You come save me again.

Perhaps My Most Important Post...

Orphan Sunday 2009 from Christian Alliance for Orphans on Vimeo.

This Sunday is Orphan Sunday.  Around the US this means different things, but at my church, West End Presbyterian Church, some of us will be gathering in room 35 at 12:30 to discuss how we can be involved in Orphan Care in our community and in the world at large.  I'll be sharing a bit about our adoption story, and there will also be testimonies given from a family who adopted a special needs child from China and a family who is involved in foster care.

To say that I have been changed by adoption would be a gross understatement.  My heart will never be the same and I am ever thankful for that.  At times I think I would like to open my family to a dozen children from all over the globe.  To stand up, like we did for Gracie, and say, "Jesus has not left you here an orphan and I will not either."  Perhaps we will adopt again.  I am certain we will foster once Gracie is out of diapers. 

I cannot speak strongly enough about this.  For the Christian, there is no wiggle room.  God is clear.  His people are to be for orphans.  He has not given us spirits of fear, but ones of adoption that cry out to him.  God is in the habit of making all things new, of reconciling peoples to Him and to one another, of knitting one giant multicultural family.  And wouldn't it be awesome if finally our Churches became integrated because our families were?  Are you kidding me?!?  Scripture tells us they will know we are Christians by our love, and yet we are known for far lesser things. 

I present to you a solution for that:  ORPHAN CARE.

Perhaps you're certain you're not called to adopt (which I highly doubt, but anyways...).  There are other ways you can be about your God's business.  You can pray for orphans.  You can write your congressmen and women to extend the Adoption tax credit beyond 2011, thereby making it easier for families to adopt. 

You can sponsor children through the countless organizations that do such things.  Through Compassion International, you can sponsor a child for just $38 a month.  Last year for Christmas, instead of giving our siblings and parents gifts, we donated money to an orphanage in Ethiopia for children orphaned because of HIV/AIDS.  I mean, do your parents really need anything more than a recent picture of your kid? 

You can contact your local Bethany Christian Services agency and see if they need some diapers, formula, or onesies for their foster families to use as these interim care families do NOT get paid like those fostering through the DSS do.  You can provide financial help to a family seeking adoption. 

You can, like my friend Mollie, team up with an organization like H.E.L.P. and have a garage sale party to raise money for orphans.  Mollie and others threw 4 garage sales that completely funded the rebuilding of an orphanage in Haiti.  Are you kidding me?  Your old crap in your attic can care for orphans.

Perhaps you've never thought about orphans.  Perhaps you think the US doesn't really have any, or well, not any in comparison to the plight in Africa.  But I submit to you that is only because we have an excellent adoption system, and though our foster system is flawed and flooded with need, it does seek to protect children.  And that happens because of people like me...

AND PEOPLE LIKE YOU.

I will leave you with the words of William Wilberforce, the 19th century British politician and ardent abolitionist...

HAVING SEEN ALL THIS YOU CAN CHOOSE TO LOOK THE OTHER WAY, BUT YOU CAN NEVER AGAIN SAY 'I DID NOT KNOW.'

First Anniversary

Even though Gracie has always been ours in terms of since time began and all, legally, it as been a year since she first "graced" us with her cuteness.  And what a year it has been!  We are celebrating with a field trip to our local voting precinct and then our family's celebratory dinner--"Greensboro Chicken".  Don't really know why we call it Greensboro chicken, but my entire family calls it that.  It's a cream of mushroom/bacon/chicken smorgasboard of goodness served atop curry rice.  Yummo.  Even Henry can eat two servings of it!

Gracie has also become a huge fan of Taco night. 

And I now finally have someone who will eat avacado with me! 

Bring on the guacamole for the Phillips ladies.

A year ago. 

See how little she was?  And still?  See how gentle her brother was?

Now it is a bit different at story time.

She is neither little or still...

 Which means sometimes her brother attempts to get her to "way still, Gwacie.  Way still next to me."

 Or sometimes he just lays on top of her.  Good thing she is a big girl and can hold her own now.

And it is a bit difficult reading when she pokes you in the eye.

But we wouldn't have it any other way.

(And yes, my kids ARE wearing their Christmas jammies.  They just came out the wash.  I had to buy them early to insure I could get them both the same jammies in the correct sizes.  And Henry wanted to wear them because they have candy on them.)