Well I was intending for my next post to be the details on how we began our adoption process. But now that all seems irrelevant. I guess I'll give a crash course on where we were headed to fill in the gaps.
Last April we signed on with Gladney Center for Adoption and joined their Russia program. After reading every single word on the Gladney website, we loved the agency and were particularly drawn to the Russia program. We have spent the past eight months and countless hours completing mountains of paperwork, attending webinars, online training courses, visiting various governmental agencies to acquire necessary documents, fighting with FedEx, reading adoption books, talking with social workers, and completing a home study. Not to mention the thousands of prayers we've said covering our future little Russian baby. Our dossier (basically a huge packet on our entire life) made it to Russia this fall and was translated and queued up just before Christmas to match us with a child.
And today we got the news that Russia has officially banned all US families from adopting from Russia.
We are obviously sad and torn up. My heart mostly hurts for all the families who were waiting to bring their child home. There are about 45-50 children sitting in an orphanage in Russia right now who have met their new parents and are so excited to be picked up and taken home. They are holding photo albums of their new families and holding on to the promise of their new mommy and daddy coming back for them. And now the new parents will never show up, bringing more loss and abandonment into these kids' lives. What a low blow.
Part of the new Russian legislation Putin has put in place states that they will put in new procedures to better care for their orphans. I'm assuming Putin wants a high five or something for that. And although it is noble and needed, the political motivation is definitely not the right avenue to accomplish this, and cutting off US adoptions is not going to help things in the meanwhile, or long-term, for the hundreds of thousands of orphans affected.
But here's what I really think: I think Putin (and his Duma posse) should walk in to each of those orphanages and look each of those kids in the eye and tell them himself that their parents are not coming for them and try to explain why. I doubt they will care about his plans to change the Russian procedures to better care for them.
So I guess life will just move on, like it tends to. And many people in the US and Russia will add this to the scars they bear, our family included. But my prayer is that the God of all comfort and peace will meet every single child and family right where they are, in their struggling moment, and offer His healing power. And somehow use this to draw people closer to Himself like only He can do.
Please be in prayer over all those affected by this sudden change. Even my sweet kids who are eating lunch right now and talking about the sign language they will teach "our baby from Russia." It is a loss for us all.
Thank you for all the calls, texts, and emails from those who love us. I know everyone is wondering what this means for our family now, and we really have no idea. We haven't even begun to go there yet. But thank you for the support and love.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Monday, November 12, 2012
The Far-Sighted View
HEYYYY! Look who's back again! You just never know when this blog will pop back up. I kind of like it that way.
Since its been almost FIVE MONTHS since my last post and because I dropped a huge bombshell on our life and then never followed it up, I thought I'd go ahead and give a little bit more to the story. And since people have started asking me if we are "still adopting" since I never posted anything after my initial announcement, I thought it would be wise to update our friends and family.
YES! We are still adopting and the process is goingwell smoothly slow. Kinda kidding. All in all we are moving along. I promise to post more about our process soon. The moments that made me want to bang my head into a wall repeatedly are almost humorous now, so I'm considering blogging about those too.
For now, I wanted to give some of the deep background stuff on how God was bringing us to adoption. I like knowing the full story on anything, so I'm throwing it out there for you...
Sometimes its hard to know where a story begins. It seems that's true for many people's love stories. Maybe it's "we were friends for a couple of years before we started dating." Or "we knew of each other but didn't actually meet for awhile..." Most stories don't have a clear cut beginning. I feel that way about our adoption.
Did the story start in April when we downloaded our application? Well maybe before that in February when we attended that adoption conference. Or around Christmas when we decided to look into it rather than just talk about it. Or after our most recent miscarriage last April. Maybe that was the catalyst. Or really, maybe it was years ago when we first started out on our fertility journey. I keep backing up and backing up...
I guess the first time I actually thought about adoption for my own life was in June of 2004 when I went on a mission trip to Romania with the Student Ministry where I worked. It was the first time I ever set foot in an orphanage. I found myself face to face with tiny little lives who had nobody. Abandoned. Lost. Without Family. Our team held babies, rocked them, sang to them, played with them, prayed over them. We tried to squeeze out as much love as we could in a few hours each day. With the older kids we took them to the "park", worked on their English, hugged them, gave them little trinkets that were received like gold.
The whole time the overwhelming reality of their situations could not be shaken from my heart. Before this when I went on mission trips in high school or college, I always felt sad for people we were serving who were living in poverty or just had no hope. But in Romania as a 23-year-old, it was the first time I felt like an actual (teeny tiny) grownup in an I can actually choose to do something with this kind of way. In a spiritual way. I remember holding those babies and acknowledging that God had a plan for their lives. And I thought how cool it would be to be a part of that plan.
Scott and I had just started dating at the time of this trip. I mean Just. Started. Dating. Like we had gone on a few dates and then he went on a two-week trip out of country, got home, and the next day I left for Romania. When I got back I told him all about the sweet orphans I got to hold and love. And how for the first time I dreamed about taking one (or more) home to give them a new life. (Remember this post when I prematurely told him about my desire to have twins? Well, this was kind of like that. As I'm writing this out I'm kind of shocked he kept me around.)
But honestly, my teeny tiny grownup self still thought of this as a "maybe one day..." thing. I guess that was just the wheels beginning to turn in the adoption direction.
After we had been married for just over a year, I had the opportunity to go to Ukraine on another mission trip in June 2006, two years later. This trip also consisted of lots of orphanage work. It's crazy what a different place I was in while there than I was in Romania. The difference between a young, just out of college, single girl with a brand-new boyfriend, doing a one-year internship before going who knows where (teeny tiny grownup) contrasted with a married girl with a house, a dog, a full-time job, and starting to talk about kids (closer to a real grownup). And with that growth, God definitely took what He had laid on my heart in Romania and grew it tenfold in Ukraine. I'll write specifically on my experience in Ukraine soon as it deserves a blog post of its own. I didn't know it then, but I think God was intimately pricking my heart on that trip.
That same summer is when Scott and I decided we were ready for a baby. We didn't talk about adoption initially. We really wanted to experience pregnancy and watch God create life from Scott and me together. And I don't feel guilty for that. So we began our fertility journey.
After our IVF procedure when we learned we had seven embryos, one of my first thoughts (among many) was, "Now we'll never adopt." I knew statistically not all seven would become babies in our arms, but even if half of them did, that would still give us 3-4 kids. And I guess in my mind, that kind of filled us up, which would be perfect. So I fixed my mind that God would build our family that way. And really, we were cool with that plan. Excited about that plan because we loved those little embryos.
Without rehashing the whole story, I guess that brings me to where God began translating what He had been doing in my heart years earlier into light. So in my next post, I'll write about the logistics of how we got to adoption and how we landed where we've landed. And I promise it won't be in five more months.
But let me just end with this: I love the far-sighted view of stories. The fact that God was doing something in my heart almost seven and nine years ago while I was so unsuspecting (and not even ready yet) is so encouraging now. Things that happen today that may seem trivial or normal or you don't know what to do with or even just suck, God can be using them for transformation in days and even years to come. Even as you casually go about your day and build your life, He's doing something. And there's something about that truth that's flat-out thrilling.
Since its been almost FIVE MONTHS since my last post and because I dropped a huge bombshell on our life and then never followed it up, I thought I'd go ahead and give a little bit more to the story. And since people have started asking me if we are "still adopting" since I never posted anything after my initial announcement, I thought it would be wise to update our friends and family.
YES! We are still adopting and the process is going
For now, I wanted to give some of the deep background stuff on how God was bringing us to adoption. I like knowing the full story on anything, so I'm throwing it out there for you...
Sometimes its hard to know where a story begins. It seems that's true for many people's love stories. Maybe it's "we were friends for a couple of years before we started dating." Or "we knew of each other but didn't actually meet for awhile..." Most stories don't have a clear cut beginning. I feel that way about our adoption.
Did the story start in April when we downloaded our application? Well maybe before that in February when we attended that adoption conference. Or around Christmas when we decided to look into it rather than just talk about it. Or after our most recent miscarriage last April. Maybe that was the catalyst. Or really, maybe it was years ago when we first started out on our fertility journey. I keep backing up and backing up...
I guess the first time I actually thought about adoption for my own life was in June of 2004 when I went on a mission trip to Romania with the Student Ministry where I worked. It was the first time I ever set foot in an orphanage. I found myself face to face with tiny little lives who had nobody. Abandoned. Lost. Without Family. Our team held babies, rocked them, sang to them, played with them, prayed over them. We tried to squeeze out as much love as we could in a few hours each day. With the older kids we took them to the "park", worked on their English, hugged them, gave them little trinkets that were received like gold.
The whole time the overwhelming reality of their situations could not be shaken from my heart. Before this when I went on mission trips in high school or college, I always felt sad for people we were serving who were living in poverty or just had no hope. But in Romania as a 23-year-old, it was the first time I felt like an actual (teeny tiny) grownup in an I can actually choose to do something with this kind of way. In a spiritual way. I remember holding those babies and acknowledging that God had a plan for their lives. And I thought how cool it would be to be a part of that plan.
Scott and I had just started dating at the time of this trip. I mean Just. Started. Dating. Like we had gone on a few dates and then he went on a two-week trip out of country, got home, and the next day I left for Romania. When I got back I told him all about the sweet orphans I got to hold and love. And how for the first time I dreamed about taking one (or more) home to give them a new life. (Remember this post when I prematurely told him about my desire to have twins? Well, this was kind of like that. As I'm writing this out I'm kind of shocked he kept me around.)
But honestly, my teeny tiny grownup self still thought of this as a "maybe one day..." thing. I guess that was just the wheels beginning to turn in the adoption direction.
After we had been married for just over a year, I had the opportunity to go to Ukraine on another mission trip in June 2006, two years later. This trip also consisted of lots of orphanage work. It's crazy what a different place I was in while there than I was in Romania. The difference between a young, just out of college, single girl with a brand-new boyfriend, doing a one-year internship before going who knows where (teeny tiny grownup) contrasted with a married girl with a house, a dog, a full-time job, and starting to talk about kids (closer to a real grownup). And with that growth, God definitely took what He had laid on my heart in Romania and grew it tenfold in Ukraine. I'll write specifically on my experience in Ukraine soon as it deserves a blog post of its own. I didn't know it then, but I think God was intimately pricking my heart on that trip.
That same summer is when Scott and I decided we were ready for a baby. We didn't talk about adoption initially. We really wanted to experience pregnancy and watch God create life from Scott and me together. And I don't feel guilty for that. So we began our fertility journey.
After our IVF procedure when we learned we had seven embryos, one of my first thoughts (among many) was, "Now we'll never adopt." I knew statistically not all seven would become babies in our arms, but even if half of them did, that would still give us 3-4 kids. And I guess in my mind, that kind of filled us up, which would be perfect. So I fixed my mind that God would build our family that way. And really, we were cool with that plan. Excited about that plan because we loved those little embryos.
Without rehashing the whole story, I guess that brings me to where God began translating what He had been doing in my heart years earlier into light. So in my next post, I'll write about the logistics of how we got to adoption and how we landed where we've landed. And I promise it won't be in five more months.
But let me just end with this: I love the far-sighted view of stories. The fact that God was doing something in my heart almost seven and nine years ago while I was so unsuspecting (and not even ready yet) is so encouraging now. Things that happen today that may seem trivial or normal or you don't know what to do with or even just suck, God can be using them for transformation in days and even years to come. Even as you casually go about your day and build your life, He's doing something. And there's something about that truth that's flat-out thrilling.
Friday, June 29, 2012
On To Plan A
Growing up, I somehow organized the gospel in my head a little something like this: God loved His people and wanted them to live in righteousness. They kept messing up and kept messing up and things were not going right. God tried this and that with them but nothing was working. He ended up having to sacrifice His own Son to pay the price for the world's sin and save His people.
Now while there are partial truths to this line of thinking, its by no means the full gospel. It wasn't until I was entering my young adult years that I learned (or actually began to understand) that Jesus was there from the beginning. He was the plan. God was not shocked and dumbfounded by what was going on with His people. There was sin and brokenness and evil that they could never overcome. He knew they would never get it together. But He had a plan for all the hurt and brokenness. Jesus. Jesus was Plan A. It appeared on the surface that Jesus was a last resort. Like he was plan B or C or Z. But He was Plan A.
That was a game-changer for me. It transformed my entire outlook on life. It brings an eternal perspective that was never there in my previous thinking. An eternal perspective that resounds no matter what the world throws at me. God didn't just throw His hands up and give in. He knows what He's doing. Even through the struggle and hurt, He's always got Plan A.
So God is moving Scott, Hudson, Harper and me on to our Plan A. We have started the adoption process!! Hooray! From the surface (like from this view or this) it seems like adoption might be Plan B or C. But we know God has used everything we've been through to bring us to this place and has always had the exact child in mind for our family, even way before we conceived the thought of adopting. It was a long road to get here, and surely a long road ahead, but we are grateful for what God has brought us through and the plan He has for us.
The Lord has comforted us and mourned with us over our losses. We know that it was never His perfect plan for us to go through that. So much of life we will never understand. But I am seeing so clearly how God loves creating goodness out of heartache. Joy out of sadness. How He brings beauty from ashes.
So yes! Adoption! We are so excited, anxious, overwhelmed...it's a whole new beast to explore. I'll post soon with more details, how we got to this decision, what the kids think, and hopefully keep this updated with where we are. And we covet your prayers for us, for our baby, for the birth parents, and join us in praising God that He's always got Plan A. Even in our times of uncertainty and chaos.
So God is moving Scott, Hudson, Harper and me on to our Plan A. We have started the adoption process!! Hooray! From the surface (like from this view or this) it seems like adoption might be Plan B or C. But we know God has used everything we've been through to bring us to this place and has always had the exact child in mind for our family, even way before we conceived the thought of adopting. It was a long road to get here, and surely a long road ahead, but we are grateful for what God has brought us through and the plan He has for us.
The Lord has comforted us and mourned with us over our losses. We know that it was never His perfect plan for us to go through that. So much of life we will never understand. But I am seeing so clearly how God loves creating goodness out of heartache. Joy out of sadness. How He brings beauty from ashes.
So yes! Adoption! We are so excited, anxious, overwhelmed...it's a whole new beast to explore. I'll post soon with more details, how we got to this decision, what the kids think, and hopefully keep this updated with where we are. And we covet your prayers for us, for our baby, for the birth parents, and join us in praising God that He's always got Plan A. Even in our times of uncertainty and chaos.
Monday, June 4, 2012
People Say We Monkey Around
I'm back! The little blog has definitely been suffering from major neglect. But I'm hoping to kick it back up and give some more updates on what's going on in our little spot in the world.
Big News: H&H are now FOUR years old!! We celebrated with a monkey party held at one of our faves, My Gym. It was a blast because so many of the kids' (and my) favorite people were there.
Here are some of the details of the party:
Big News: H&H are now FOUR years old!! We celebrated with a monkey party held at one of our faves, My Gym. It was a blast because so many of the kids' (and my) favorite people were there.
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| With our two four year olds. I think that equals eight years of parenting. |
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| I always love to include pictures at the kids' parties of them growing up. It reminds me of how far we've come! So we had pictures of them as newborns, and at one, two, and three years old. We served Monkey Vines (twizzlers), Money Mix (trail mix), Barrels for Monkeys (root beer barrels), Banana-Os (Banana Nut Cheerios), and of course Bananas! With a little Jungle Juice to wash it down. (I hadn't added the Sprite to the Jungle Juice yet, so that's why it looks weird. I know you were wondering.) |
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| Monkey cupcakes! |
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| This picture is just to show Harper's dress THAT I MADE. I know, I'm kind of proud of me too. If you can't tell, it actually has a ruffle, bodice trim, a sash, and sleeves, all of which were new to me. Sleeves are harder than you think.
And here are some shots of the fun we had!
 
Ball Pit!
Buddies from school at circle time
Waiting for the Roller Coaster. I love Harper's little hands on her brother.
   
Bubbles!
      
Yes, she had that look on her face for the entire song. She must not have noticed the wrapper.
Chowing down!
All the monkeys seemed to have a great time! And a special thanks to my friend Kristin for taking the pics!
Here's to a ton of fun being four!
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Wednesday, February 8, 2012
An Impromptu Baby Blessing
On Monday my blog turned one year old! I've decided to celebrate by actually posting something for the first time in almost two months. And just so I don't get too carried away, my post is already two days late.
I love it when I'm reminded of a funny situation I haven't thought of in a long time. So today, I have for you this little gem, which I recalled last week when I met a friend for lunch in Westlake, the area of Austin where I used to work.
If you're not familiar with Austin, first, shame on you and second, you should know that Westlake is a more uppity part of the city. It's a great area, although lacking some of the more eclectic people who give Austin its flair.
This particular day in the spring of 2008, I had left work a little early to go to a doctor's check-up on my pregnancy. On the way, I ran a quick errand in a shopping center in Westlake. When I came out of the shop and headed for my car, I found myself walking toward a woman on the breezeway. A woman who looked pretty out-of-place, not that I fit like a glove.
I'm about 20 feet away from her when she loudly declares, "Girrrrrlll! You 'bout to have that baby!!"
"Um, I hope not. I still have about two months left."
"You better get over here so I can bless your baby."
Hesitate. Hesitate. Panic.
I was very ill-prepared for this particular encounter. The Drag=perfect spot to expect a baby blessing. South Congress=equally appropriate. Westlake=not many baby blessings happenin' in Westlake. But seeing as how I was still walking toward her to get to my car, I had no choice but to go with it and found myself tummy to stranger's hand in the middle of a good 'ol fashioned Westlake baby blessing.
With her unfamiliar hand rubbing my stomach, she proceeds, "You havin a boy, right?" Apparently in addition to being a Baby Blesser she's also a self-proclaimed Psychic, yet not a very good one.
"Well I hope you have two blessings because I'm actually having twins."
Insert second hand rubbing abdomen.
"Oh praise Jesus!" and lots of other similar phrases while we stood, uncomfortably, hands to stomach in front of several little crowded boutiques.
I was totally fine with my friends and family touching my pregnant stomach. It was slightly awkward when an acquaintance reached for a rub. But the complete stranger in the middle of a crowded shopping center takes the cake.
The woman relishes in the utter-perfection of me simultaneously expecting a boy AND a girl for longer than necessary. Then the blessing ended with the woman asking me if I could give her a ride to the bus stop. I'm sure the appropriate response when someone blesses your unborn children is to take her anywhere she wants to go. Mine was not that. I explained how I was running late (especially after stopping for a quick tummy rub). Honestly I was also a little confused because there was a bus stop just across the street from the shopping center, within walking distance, which led me to think she was not interested in the bus stop but might be trying to kidnap me and my babies she was so enthralled with instead. Maybe it was just the protective mothering already kicking in. So I pointed out the close bus stop, gave her a little bit of cash for a ticket, thanked her for the blessings and wished her well. Don't judge me.
This is where I try to make this story have some sort of significance. But really I've got nothing. Except two very blessed babies. And a fun memory of that spot in Westlake.
I love it when I'm reminded of a funny situation I haven't thought of in a long time. So today, I have for you this little gem, which I recalled last week when I met a friend for lunch in Westlake, the area of Austin where I used to work.
If you're not familiar with Austin, first, shame on you and second, you should know that Westlake is a more uppity part of the city. It's a great area, although lacking some of the more eclectic people who give Austin its flair.
This particular day in the spring of 2008, I had left work a little early to go to a doctor's check-up on my pregnancy. On the way, I ran a quick errand in a shopping center in Westlake. When I came out of the shop and headed for my car, I found myself walking toward a woman on the breezeway. A woman who looked pretty out-of-place, not that I fit like a glove.
I'm about 20 feet away from her when she loudly declares, "Girrrrrlll! You 'bout to have that baby!!"
"Um, I hope not. I still have about two months left."
"You better get over here so I can bless your baby."
Hesitate. Hesitate. Panic.
I was very ill-prepared for this particular encounter. The Drag=perfect spot to expect a baby blessing. South Congress=equally appropriate. Westlake=not many baby blessings happenin' in Westlake. But seeing as how I was still walking toward her to get to my car, I had no choice but to go with it and found myself tummy to stranger's hand in the middle of a good 'ol fashioned Westlake baby blessing.
With her unfamiliar hand rubbing my stomach, she proceeds, "You havin a boy, right?" Apparently in addition to being a Baby Blesser she's also a self-proclaimed Psychic, yet not a very good one.
"Well I hope you have two blessings because I'm actually having twins."
Insert second hand rubbing abdomen.
"Oh praise Jesus!" and lots of other similar phrases while we stood, uncomfortably, hands to stomach in front of several little crowded boutiques.
I was totally fine with my friends and family touching my pregnant stomach. It was slightly awkward when an acquaintance reached for a rub. But the complete stranger in the middle of a crowded shopping center takes the cake.
The woman relishes in the utter-perfection of me simultaneously expecting a boy AND a girl for longer than necessary. Then the blessing ended with the woman asking me if I could give her a ride to the bus stop. I'm sure the appropriate response when someone blesses your unborn children is to take her anywhere she wants to go. Mine was not that. I explained how I was running late (especially after stopping for a quick tummy rub). Honestly I was also a little confused because there was a bus stop just across the street from the shopping center, within walking distance, which led me to think she was not interested in the bus stop but might be trying to kidnap me and my babies she was so enthralled with instead. Maybe it was just the protective mothering already kicking in. So I pointed out the close bus stop, gave her a little bit of cash for a ticket, thanked her for the blessings and wished her well. Don't judge me.
This is where I try to make this story have some sort of significance. But really I've got nothing. Except two very blessed babies. And a fun memory of that spot in Westlake.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Tradition #3: Nativity Sets
Here is my third and final Christmas tradition worth mentioning. And this one is my favorite!
Nativity Sets
Scott has gotten to do a lot of traveling in his life to some pretty cool places. And he brought into our marriage some little treasures from all over the world. Now, I don't necessarily share the same love for many of these items as he does. Don't get me wrong, I can appreciate a sculpture hand-carved from wood found from a rare tree in the back woods of Nigeria as much as anyone. But this does not mean I want it displayed on my mantle. (Does Nigeria even have back woods? I'm not sure.)
Nativity Sets
Scott has gotten to do a lot of traveling in his life to some pretty cool places. And he brought into our marriage some little treasures from all over the world. Now, I don't necessarily share the same love for many of these items as he does. Don't get me wrong, I can appreciate a sculpture hand-carved from wood found from a rare tree in the back woods of Nigeria as much as anyone. But this does not mean I want it displayed on my mantle. (Does Nigeria even have back woods? I'm not sure.)
So as we moved into our first house together with all of our hand-me-down furniture and college decor, Scott showed me all of these items bathed in world culture that were now called "ours." One of the items was a wooden nativity set. When it was time for our first Christmas together, out came this nativity. I'll be honest: I didn't really like it. I gently suggested that maybe we could pick out a new nativity together that we would both really love.
"What's wrong with this one?" Scott asked.
"Well, it doesn't have any color. And I don't see why we need to put it out just because you got in Mexico when you were a kid," I snottily replied.
"Mexico?!?!" he scoffed. "I got this in Bethlehem!"
Oh. Somehow the nativity just got much cooler. I don't know how I missed this crucial piece of information in the original presentation. So here sits our nativity today, it's seventh Christmas as "ours."
Although it still isn't exactly my decor style, it is very intricate and beautiful. And how amazing to have a nativity carved in the city where Jesus was born! I truly love it! Now if I could somehow figure out how to love his didgeridoo from Australia...
So this is where our tradition comes in. I love that our nativity has a story and a history behind it. Even the funny story of how it did not come from Mexico. It means so much more to me than if we had just picked a new one out at a store as I suggested. As our babies' first Christmas approached in 2008, I decided that I wanted them to have a nativity when they were grown that they loved and that meant something to them.
I shopped for a long time to find the perfect one for each of them. That year, I went ahead and purchased two whole sets. Each Christmas Eve, the second present they open (after their Christmas jammies) is a new little piece to add to their collection. It was an expensive initial cost, but I decided to go ahead and buy the whole sets up front in case they stopped being carried at some point. And my over-organized self even wrote out a little chart to tell me what piece they get new each year and to keep track of which pieces they've already gotten. If I die, Scott is under strict instruction to make sure he follows the schedule and keeps giving their pieces each year on Christmas Eve. Someone please make sure he does this.
I'm slightly obsessed with Harper's nativity. Its the Foundations line designed by Karen Hahn. It's so pretty and delicate and fragile and sparkly, just like Harper. I love how each piece has a little word scripted on it--Joseph says "faith," one angel says "glory," Mary says "the promise." Each piece breathes a hint of what the real character personifies. And it has a bunch of angels, which I like.
I love the strength and solidity of Hudson's nativity. His is from Jim Shore. Its made of painted wood and is so masculine. Each piece has a little scene from the first Christmas night carved and painted on it, illustrating the bigger story behind each character. This gives it so much depth. And with that depth coupled with tons of bright color, its perfect for Hudson.
"What's wrong with this one?" Scott asked.
"Well, it doesn't have any color. And I don't see why we need to put it out just because you got in Mexico when you were a kid," I snottily replied.
"Mexico?!?!" he scoffed. "I got this in Bethlehem!"
Oh. Somehow the nativity just got much cooler. I don't know how I missed this crucial piece of information in the original presentation. So here sits our nativity today, it's seventh Christmas as "ours."
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| If you're thinking, "shouldn't there be a camel?" you're right. Just yesterday a certain child of mind knocked the camel off and he suffered a tragic leg break. He's still in recovery. |
Although it still isn't exactly my decor style, it is very intricate and beautiful. And how amazing to have a nativity carved in the city where Jesus was born! I truly love it! Now if I could somehow figure out how to love his didgeridoo from Australia...
So this is where our tradition comes in. I love that our nativity has a story and a history behind it. Even the funny story of how it did not come from Mexico. It means so much more to me than if we had just picked a new one out at a store as I suggested. As our babies' first Christmas approached in 2008, I decided that I wanted them to have a nativity when they were grown that they loved and that meant something to them.
I shopped for a long time to find the perfect one for each of them. That year, I went ahead and purchased two whole sets. Each Christmas Eve, the second present they open (after their Christmas jammies) is a new little piece to add to their collection. It was an expensive initial cost, but I decided to go ahead and buy the whole sets up front in case they stopped being carried at some point. And my over-organized self even wrote out a little chart to tell me what piece they get new each year and to keep track of which pieces they've already gotten. If I die, Scott is under strict instruction to make sure he follows the schedule and keeps giving their pieces each year on Christmas Eve. Someone please make sure he does this.
I'm slightly obsessed with Harper's nativity. Its the Foundations line designed by Karen Hahn. It's so pretty and delicate and fragile and sparkly, just like Harper. I love how each piece has a little word scripted on it--Joseph says "faith," one angel says "glory," Mary says "the promise." Each piece breathes a hint of what the real character personifies. And it has a bunch of angels, which I like.
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| Harper's nativity at our house today |
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| Her full nativity, plus an awful blue velvet backdrop. (Picture taken from yonderstar.com where you can purchase the Foundations collection.) |
I love the strength and solidity of Hudson's nativity. His is from Jim Shore. Its made of painted wood and is so masculine. Each piece has a little scene from the first Christmas night carved and painted on it, illustrating the bigger story behind each character. This gives it so much depth. And with that depth coupled with tons of bright color, its perfect for Hudson.
I just hope his wife likes it.
Unfortunately, I couldn't find a picture online of his full set. Apparently, Jim Shore puts out new lines each year because they all looked different than our 2008 line. Sorry, you'll just have to trust me that it's awesome because I don't feel like unpacking the other 11 pieces just to take a picture of it. But you're correct if you're picturing me patting myself on the back for ordering the whole thing three years ago.
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| Hudson's nativity with his pieces thus far. |
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Tradition #2: The Jammies!
Continuing along with my Traditions series!
Christmas Jammies
We let each of our kids open two presents on Christmas Eve, one of which is new Christmas jammies. This isn't that original, but it is a tradition that occurs at Christmas, therefore it must be mentioned!
I love having them all cute and Christmasy as they wake up on Christmas morning. (And other mornings throughout the year as the pajamas typically don't get packed away.) I don't match my kids clothes that often, but I do love the Christmas jammies match! Last year I decided against it, but it will be back for '11.
And I know they'll still be excited about it when they're 16 and I make them put their new matching jammies on for a picture. Can't wait.
Christmas Jammies
We let each of our kids open two presents on Christmas Eve, one of which is new Christmas jammies. This isn't that original, but it is a tradition that occurs at Christmas, therefore it must be mentioned!
I love having them all cute and Christmasy as they wake up on Christmas morning. (And other mornings throughout the year as the pajamas typically don't get packed away.) I don't match my kids clothes that often, but I do love the Christmas jammies match! Last year I decided against it, but it will be back for '11.
And I know they'll still be excited about it when they're 16 and I make them put their new matching jammies on for a picture. Can't wait.
2008
2009
2010
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| We had just gotten home from church when they opened these and put them on. We don't typically wear bows, tights, and black patent shoes to bed! Who knew sleeping attire could be so fun?! |
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