A Nail In The Hand

It's been another eventful week.  Rick was in Nevada for a good portion of it, so I did my best to keep everyone fed, bathed, loved and educated.  I ended every day bone tired, and knowing there would be more to do the next day.  It is good to go to bed bone tired, you sleep really well, unless someone wakes you up to see if they can snuggle you.

Last night, thankfully, no one tried to wake me up.  Apparently after I went to bed, the kids came home from their slurpy run to the sound of the frog symphony in our pond.  Karsten has been a bit annoyed with this nightly serenade, so he decided to throw some old boards into the pond to shut them up.  Apparently the third time was not the charm, and the board had a nail in it which pierced his hand as it sailed off into the night.  He came running into the house to his two older sisters who tried to figure out how to handle the situation.  Brook apparently was lobbying for a trip to the ER, Madie was not so sure.  They woke Rick up and all decided to wait until the morning to decide.  The PA who saw them this morning said it definitely needed stitches, and sewed him up.

I posted the cliff note version of this on Facebook, and a friend pointed out the irony of a nail in the hand on Good Friday.  It is sort of poignant.  God has done some very interesting things in Karsten's life over the years.  I have learned to trust him to his heavenly father and know that he has a plan.  I had told Karsten not to throw things in the pond, I hadn't envisioned boards when I gave that command.  The frogs are back this evening taunting him with their song.  They have won this round, but I am confident that he will back in the fight.  A couple weeks of laying low will probably do him good.

The older girls had their first two track meets.  One was a surprise event on Tuesday.  They have done respectably, but not what they had hoped.  The season is early, and given that we have no field equipment to practice our jumps, I think they have done well.  I'll miss track season.  It is fun to see the girls work hard and master some difficult skills.

We have been discovering more and more school options.  I have to say that I am really excited about the opportunities we have for next year.  We found a program that offers dual credit for our high schoolers with some very interesting classes.  It incorporates some of the ideas that we heard about at PLU in their international honors program, but they can do it in high school.  We will start the application process and see what happens.  We found an ESL program for Martha.  When Rick called them to see if it would be appropriate for her, we discovered that the lady who teaches the class knew about us.  She was one of the founders of the school we had considered teaching at in Indonesia.  I have been astounded again and again by God's faithfulness and blessing in all the twists and turns we have taken in our life.

A dear friend emailed and offered to let Madie come stay with them for a while and get a change of scenery.  It was completely unexpected, but would be such a blessing to Madie and to us, and hopefully to them.  I was feeling a little bit discouraged by how things were working out for Madie.  We are still very hopeful that she will be able to take a volunteer trip this summer.  We are trying to figure out how to do some fundraising to take care of the travel expenses.  There are some questions we need to answer before we are ready to send her to Europe by herself, but I really feel like this would be a great way for her to grow in maturity and faith.  She just needs to come up with the airfare, and they will take care of the rest.  God has been so good to us, and I have felt so good about the options he has presented that we have not expected in any way.

This Easter weekend has already been beautiful.  The weather is warm.  The flowers are springing up everywhere.  Yesterday while I walked with Eden the smell of dinners being cooked outside reminded me of Ethiopia.  It was such a sweet memory, and a longing to go back.  It reminded me of all the people we have met from Ethiopia, who have adopted from Ethiopia, who are serving in Ethiopia now, it made me so very grateful for our Ethiopian children and all that they have brought into our lives.  We are planning to celebrate Easter with some very dear friends who have hosted us for Easter for many years.  I was thinking about our Easter celebrations of the past.  We have been getting together since our children were all very young.  Many of them are now married and have small children of their own.  It has been a wild ride, and I am so looking forward to our annual get together.  Friends eating, hiding eggs, getting spring sunburns, and laughing as we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus and life everlasting.  It truly is better than Christmas.

I am thankful for...

Friends that have become family

Gifts paid forward

Surprises

New friends met, and relationships growing

Doctors to stitch up hands

Frogs to inspire boys to do dumb things

Husbands that come home

Eternal life

Adoption Issues

I've had the opportunity to chat with several people the last couple of weeks about adoption.  They have been random conversations on a variety of aspects of adoption.  I'm still trying to sort out many ideas.

Nesradine had a hard day on the playground on Monday.  I picked him up after school and he had a bruised forehead, a bump on his nose, and two band aids on his knee.  He told me he had had lots of blood at school that day.  I asked him if the secretary had worn gloves when she helped him, and he said yes, he had told her he had HIV.  I know that many, many people are not okay with sharing their HIV status, and as my kids get older I do understand why.  I have had several people tell me that part of the reason that they are not freaked out by HIV is because we are not freaked out by it.  I guess that is one big blessing of living in a small community.  I know it has been unsettling for many people, but they have been very gracious and asked a lot of questions and come to see our kids as kids.  I think it has taught us all that we need to be careful in any situation involving health care precautions.  You can't assume that these kinds of things aren't in our small town, they are here among us, whether we realize it or not.  My kids have been great ambassadors for people living with HIV.  They are very open about it, and willing to educate people when they have questions.  Nesradine has no idea that his status is cause for alarm for many people.  He knows he is not sick, but that he has a virus, and that he can't let anyone touch his blood.  We will fill him in on the rest of the risks when it is appropriate.  So far I have no regrets about being open with their status.  We have had to answer a lot of questions, but they have been great conversations and I hope to have many more of them.

The harder adoption issues are the ones that are more subtle.  One that I struggle with is being a humble mom.  When my daughter struggles with depression, I feel like I am failing her.  I want to fix it.  I want to be the one she trusts and wants to talk to.  I have had to be willing to let her talk with other people who are better equipped to listen and to guide her.  That can be a bitter pill to swallow.  It can be especially tough when I know there are times when I am part of the problem.  A friend pointed out that the margin of error when you are parenting kids from hard places is very narrow.  If I am having a bad day and choose to vent on my child that really can't take it, I am the one adding to the trauma.  I have to be on my A game every.single.day.  This is good for me, and keeps me at Jesus' feet much more often than I would be if I thought I had it all together.  Parenting kids with difficult backgrounds (which all adopted children have) takes abundant grace and humility.  Love is powerful, but a mother's love is not all that these kids need, and we all need the blood of Jesus.

The racial differences are also bigger issues than I would have imagined.  I had read books by people who had been raised in families of a different race.  I knew what the potential pitfalls were.  It is so easy to think that because I don't think I treat other people differently that it won't matter.  If only life were that easy.  I am confronted daily with attitudes I didn't recognize as racially favoring everyone that looks and thinks like me.  Folks, we are all blind when it comes to seeing your own racial bias, if you think you don't think your race is best, you are wrong.  I was talking with Madie last night about whether or not it is okay to have pictures of God, or of Jesus.  We were looking at the second commandment and trying to sort out what it means.  I pointed out that most people draw Jesus to look like he is of their ethnic group.  It is sort of laughable when you see the blond, blue eyed Jesus pictures, how Jewish looking is that?  And yes, it does matter how you picture him in your mind.  That may stumble people of a different ethnic group.  It is very subtle, but very powerful.  I'm trying very hard to stop and think before I give an opinion on how someone looks.  We Schumakers tend to be very loud with our opinions, and I don't want Martha and Nes to feel like they are inferior to the rest of us in any way.  It is one more thing that I can't let slip from the forefront of my mind.  Words are powerful, and my kids are sensitive, I can't just let things fly out of my mouth without thinking about it.

I was talking with someone about this sort of thing and it reminded me of a very helpful blog post that I had read before we brought our kids home.  It was an African American woman writing to all of us white adoptive moms giving us tangible suggestions for exploring out attitudes about African American culture.  She suggested that you spend time with African American friends in their homes, and their neighborhoods.  Watch African American movies, yes, they have their own movies that are not always on our netflix ques.  Subscribe to African American magazines.  Read African American books.  Listen to African American music.  This applies to Chinese, Korean, Russian, or whatever culture you may be adopting from.  The point is to immerse yourself in a culture that isn't the one you live in, but that may be one your children will feel more comfortable in.  Your family culture will have to change to accommodate your new child and their background.  We did spend some time doing this, and it was very enlightening.  It has been very good for my kids to think outside of their comfortable world.  I have had to talk to my girls about criticizing some of the t.v. shows that Martha chooses.  They look at it from a very different perspective than she does.  It has been good for them to talk to her and find out what she likes about them, and to see that she doesn't see the world the same way they do.  She has a unique perspective on our culture that we are too close to see.  I am grateful for the new perspective, but it is a challenge and it is important to us all.  There are things that we European folks take lightly that are a big deal to other cultures, hair is a big deal to African women, don't poo poo it, embrace it.  Language is important to any culture.  Food preferences are important, think comfort food.  Attitudes about exercise, and cleanliness, and what is respectful are different in different cultures, don't assume yours is perfect.

Even the way we interpret the Bible is cultural, which as Americans we REALLY need to stop and think about.  Americans didn't write the Bible, it is set in a different culture.  There are so many times I have heard people dismiss Biblical principles because their culture was different.  God set the word in  that culture in that time for a purpose.  It would do us well to get to know the culture Jesus came from, it matters, those were God's people for a reason.  It is highly arrogant for us to assume our culture is superior and that we can reinterpret the Bible based on our cultural bias.  The problem is that our culture is such a deep part of who we are we don't see that we are reinterpreting the Bible.  I have had to think long and hard about some ideas I have held to and whether or not they make sense in Ethiopia, or Indonesia, or Canada.  What is the gospel really?  What have I inadvertently added or subtracted from it?  This all matters when you have children that are looking at life through a different lens.

In our family these things are obvious.  You don't have to guess which kids are adopted and which kids aren't.  It is easy to think that all of these things don't matter if you get a healthy pink baby to adopt.  Don't kid yourself.  God has a story for each and every one of us.  That baby in your arms has a story, and you are not the author.  You are a character in their story, and you want to be the humble one.  God is the great author.  He uses plot devices in artistic ways beyond our wildest imaginations.  Love him the most.  Love your child, and remember that he or she is God's child as well.  For the glory set before you, you are doing the hard work of being a parent.  Sometimes our biggest failures are God's biggest victories.  He gave his only son to die for us.  The world taunted him, but he won the victory at the cross.  Our victories will often look like crosses to those who don't believe.  Don't shrink back from the hard roads that God might take you on, there will be some awesome views.  Don't grow weary when it looks hopeless, God loves cliffhangers.  Remember he is with you always, and he loves your children even more than you do.  Trust him always.

Today I am thankful for...

Springlike days in the dead of winter

Saying goodbye to faithful saints

Watching my girls draw

Sisters doing each other's hair

Letters from Grandpa encouraging grandchildren to think about their future

Tenacious flowers popping up way too early

Friends who pour out their lives for others, often unnoticed

Watching engaged couples plan their weddings (none of them in my house)

Ch, ch, ch, changes

There are so many changes on my horizon, I'm not sure where to start.  Our little Nes, who has been healthy and med free for the last seven years, started taking ARV's yesterday.  I don't know why this makes me sad, but it does.  We told him we would throw him a little party to celebrate this new chapter in his life.  Hopefully the party will mark a new beginning for him.  For me, I am celebrating that he has access to medication that will allow him to live a normalish, healthy life.  We have every reason to believe he will outlive the rest of us, and have a happy thriving home just like the rest of the family.  For that, I am profoundly grateful.

We have been talking as a family about homeschooling next year.  This month is re-registration at our school, and we will not be re-registering.  A friend pointed out to me that this would be a very difficult personal decision for me, not because I am going to increase my job responsibilities exponentially so much, as because I will be letting go of a personal identity.  She pointed out that we will be remaking ourselves in a very real way.  Actually we are not remaking ourselves, God is remaking us into something new.  I am very excited about this new chapter of our lives, but with the excitement is mixed more than a little trepidation.  We have every reason to believe that this is a decision that God has been moving us to for several years, and we have no expectation that it will look like a smooth transition to all of those watching.  Rachel Jankovic recently wrote a book about parenting called Fit to Burst.  In it she talked about parenting at times feeling like the guy on the free throw line being yelled at, and waved at, with everyone trying to distract him from what he needs to do.  I know I am going to feel like that for most of the next two years.  I am trying to work on my rhythm so that when the crowd is the loudest, I will be the most focused.  I know this news will get very mixed reviews from my friends, it already has.  I guess that is part of the remaking, I will find out who is willing to roll with us, and who will miss the old identity.  I've been through these kinds of changes before, and I know that they have taught me a lot about God, family, friendship, and life.

We are also starting to fill out FAFSA forms for Madie.  What is she doing next year?  We aren't sure.  What does she want to do?  We aren't sure of that either.  This morning she told me she would like to be a nanny in Europe.  I told her she had better pick a country quick and start learning the language.  She decided that gave England a decided advantage.  Ah to be young again and have all the possibilities wide open.  I know it will all come together, and that too is very exciting.

I have so much to study, think about, pray about, chat with friends about, and the laundry still piles up, and the meal times still come around at regular intervals.  It would be so nice to join a convent for a year and sort it all out, but that is not the life God has written me into.  I'm praying a lot.  I'm seeking Jesus in every corner, trying to determine where He is going with us.  He fed people, He healed people, He freed them from their sin.  I am going to start there, and then see what He adds to my plate.

If you know us, feel free to ask me about all of this.  The answer may be different today than it will be next week.  The kids are all in the loop.  They have mixed emotions as well.  Their identity is very tied to Logos.  They are fearful that they will lose friends in the process.  They may, but they may gain some as well.  Pray for us, we will need it.

Today I am thankful for:

Friends who understand my messy life, because theirs is messy too

Medicine that saves lives

Doctors who spend years studying and working with people to heal them

Medical research, a complicated, messy business, that works miracles

Health insurance without which it wouldn't matter

Oranges, the hope of warm weather in the dead of winter

The smell of fresh flowers

Day Trip to Seattle

My scheduling finesse has been slipping lately.  I had managed to schedule Martha's doctor's appointments in Seattle the day before Bronwyn had her gymnastics meet in Boise.  I realized that I was in over my head and moved Martha's appointments.  I managed to get them on different days, which was not ideal, so I managed to get everything done yesterday instead.  My plan was not to drive 5 hours to Seattle, have three appointments, and drive 5 hours back, but somehow life rarely goes according to my plan.  The good news is that the appointments went particularly smoothly.  Martha is getting stronger and stronger, and is even growing up a bit. 

I had promised her Ethiopian food, and I fulfilled that request.  We stopped at the market and picked up some injera to share with friends.  The two men at the market spoke to her in Amharic, and asked if she was happy with her family.  She smiled and said yes, which is always a bonus for me.  She still knows Amharic, but has to think about what she is going to say.  I think it embarrasses her sometimes, so she will just pretend she doesn't know what they are saying.  I wish she had more opportunities to be immersed in her language, but life is what it is, and maybe someday she will have more opportunities.  I love going to the Tana Market, it smells like Ethiopia.  The people hang around and talk, just like Ethiopia.  They even haggle on the prices, which always makes me smile.

The trip home was long.  It has been raining torrentially here for most of the spring.  I am hoping that means May will be full of flowers.  Right now, I am just pleased to see a rainbow occasionally so that I know God hasn't forgotten to let up on the showers before we all float away.  Getting over the pass was terrifying.  I was hydroplaning, the truck next to me was hydroplaning, I couldn't see through all the water being dumped on my windshield, and I was very grateful to crawl into my own bed early this morning.  Martha was not happy about trying to sleep in the car, but I reminded her we weren't fighting a snow storm.  We made it, and I will just have to find some fun friends to stay with in Seattle next time.

#215-224

Water, and lots of it.  It runs out of our pipes every single day, and hot too.  We can swim in it without fear of snakes, or other creepy things.  It makes our gardens, and fields green.

April showers that bring May flowers.

Rainbows, reminders that God is faithful to keep His promises forever and ever.

Forsythia, that amazing yellow bush that screams "Spring is Here!"

Kind, knowledgeable Doctors, and medical professionals that work long hours, and study hard to make us feel better.

All of the people that have given to Children's Hospital to make that kind of care available to people who could not otherwise afford it.  It is truly amazing to see those kids suffering, and being treated so well.

The resilience of children.  Even when they are sick, they are so intent on playing.  They cling to life so tenaciously, it gives everyone around them hope.

Starbucks, they are always there when you need them. 

Coming home, that familiar smell when you walk in the door.  The pile of shoes I have to step over to get through the door.  The sounds of life; breathing, dog whining, dishwasher still slaving away even after everyone has gone to sleep.

"That Which Doesn't Kill Us,

makes us stronger." ~ Clarice, Steel Magnolias

We had our first visit with our PID at Seattle Children's Hospital on Thursday afternoon. I had planned to go to the clinic, drive down to visit Andrea, and then drive home on Friday. During the visit it became clear that Jubilee had TB at some point in her life. I was told she had been treated, but there was no mention of it in any of her medical paperwork from Ethiopia, and the immigration test results are safely tucked away at the CDC. Just to be on the safe side we were admitted to the hospital to do sputum tests every 8 hours for 3, 8 hour periods. Not my original plan, but since I've only been home from Ethiopia for two weeks I'm still in the "no problem" phase.

I had, fortunately, asked for an interpreter. That was very helpful. He was able to explain things to her in a way that she could understand. He was also able to talk to her during the down times and help me get a better idea of where her education level is. He asked her to do some writing in Amharic, and asked her some questions about school. He explained to me that in Ethiopia they automatically promote the children regardless of their performance. Some children can transfer from schools in Ethiopia and go directly into the same grade in the US and do very well, while others are not actually at grade level. He told me that Jubilee is not at grade level for where we have her in school. He told me that I need to work with her on more foundational learning skills before she will be able to succeed in school. I also talked to him about how to help her keep her Amharic. He suggested Internet radio in Amharic, as well as YouTube. Of course, the more she can speak it to other Amharic speakers the better. He said that most children her age will not completely forget it, but they will lose the confidence to speak it. They will understand what is being said, but won't want to talk with others. I was so glad that I had him to ask her questions and help me get a better picture of what is going on with my sweet daughter.

The clinic visit was not too bad. She did get very upset after having her blood drawn, and then having to get vaccinations as well. I couldn't blame her for shedding tears, and wasn't really sure how to console her. The interpreter did let me know that closeness is important culturally in Ethiopia. He very tactfully let me know I should hold her hand and keep an arm around as much as possible. He also encouraged letting her sleep with me, since that is the norm in Ethiopia. She did need a lot more comforting and it was a good opportunity to bond with her since we ended up stuck in a hospital room for the next 48 hours.

After my previous blog post, I won't start raving about the idiocy of institutions that see you only as a birth date on a chart, and not as a person with a name and individual needs. Suffice it to say that I do not know my children by their birth dates, I know them by name. Which is why when doctors ask me their birth dates I need to think about it for a moment. I have actually had snarky comments about whether or not I was their mother because I didn't come up with their birth year in less than 2 seconds. There were numerous occasions that I had to refrain from upbraiding the poor nurse for following the procedure. I did have one lovely nurse with some wisdom. I asked her if I could use my cell phone in the room. She smiled and said "no! but no one cares so go right ahead. If anyone asks I said no." Later I asked if I should give Jubilee her meds, she again explained the hospital policy and then told me to go right ahead. I wanted to kiss her.

The hospital policy is that they want to dispense all meds, so that they can MAKE SURE that the patient gets what they need and that it is administered correctly. Whatever! Both Jubilee and I have watches with alarms that go off twice a day to remind us to take meds. Our alarms would go off, and no nurse would come. We would wait and an hour later I would walk out to the nurses and ask about meds. They explained that they do meds twice a day, and not on our schedule. They gave us her meds at least an hour late, sometimes more. I'm glad they don't let the families take care of their children at the hospital, we might really screw it up. Editorial note: I had written about a med that they didn't give us, but as it turned out it was an antibiotic that she no longer needed. My PID emailed and cleared that one up for me. My apologies to the poor nurse I maligned.

Lest I sound completely ungrateful, I have to say that Children's is an amazing hospital. I was glad I was there and that they were able to handle the situation. We did discover that Jubilee had TB at some time in her life, but that she is in not a health risk to anyone at this time. It was a tough time for Jubilee. She opened her food tray on the first morning and said "airplane food!" I assured her it wasn't that good. After a particularly scary lunch I asked if I could go get her some t'bs. She was willing to let me leave her there for one hour if I promised to bring Ethiopian food and a Coke. I scored!



I had the opportunity to do some serious bonding. We were in isolation, at least she was, but I could come and go. She asked me at one point why I love her. I was able to tell her all of the good things people had told us about her, and that we had been praying for her for a long time. We were able to talk about enduring tough times. There was a code blue while we were there. We prayed together for the little one that was suffering so much more than we were. We also watched Steel Magnolias. What a great movie. She realized that maybe what she was enduring wasn't so bad, and having someone to laugh and cry with was really helpful. It wasn't the weekend that I had planned, but it was a good time with my girl. I told her next time we were in Seattle for the weekend we would get a hotel with towels and fluffy blankets and better food.

I also had some great support. My husband, who is getting good at being Mr. Mom, did a great job at home. Lisa's oldest daughter Hannah brought us books and snacks. I hadn't brought any reading material, since I thought I was staying with Andrea. Andrea was ready to take me in at the drop of a hat. Of course they would not tell us when we were going home, so I was constantly trying to figure out where I would stay if they let us out when it was too late to drive home. Andrea eventually just drove up and had coffee with me. It was so great to have a friend to talk to. My Mom was also arranging to take us in if we needed her. It was a great comfort to know that so many people were pulling together to cover all of our needs.

It is very good to be home. I am grateful for home cooked meals and board games. I also have a great list of things to take with me next time we go to clinic, which looks like it will be in a month.