My Family

Last night we attended the annual Christmas dinner hosted by Counseling Center (where Phil works, and where I used to work). A couple of weeks ago he told me that they asked him for a family picture and a spotlight talking about our family's experience with adoption. Although I wasn't all that excited about having the attention come our way, after Phil asked me to email him a family picture, I didn't give it much thought. I had actually forgotten about it until right before they did it and I was curious to see what kind of a spotlight Phil had written. As much as I didn't want the attention, I am 100% positive that Phil wanted it even less than I did. Last night at the dinner, in the midst of several other family spotlights, our family picture was plastered across a giant screen at the front of the room as they read what Phil had written about how our family came to be.

I love my boys. I love Phil. And I love that he gave me this reminder of just how much our Heavenly Father loves us and watches over us, and always does what's best for us even though it may not be apparent to us when we are in the midst of struggles.

This is what Phil wrote:

There really wasn't anything altruistic or remarkable about our decision to adopt. If we wanted a family that included children - this was to be our lot. However, somewhere along our journey to parenthood Julie and I were taught lessons that not only changed our perspective of what it means to be a family, but have fundamentally altered the way we view life and it's many surprises.

You could characterize our first decision to adopt as "simply" looking to create the family that we had, up to this point, been denied by biology. We endured years of pain, grief, and invasive medical procedures. However, little did we realize at the time that God was about to manifest His mercy and extend His healing grace to a young woman in Cache Valley as well as to Julie and myself. The act of adoption placed sweet Adam in our home and was the answer to nine years of prayer. The adoption process, although difficult, taught us the valuable lesson of surrender to the will of the Divine and increased our faith that God is ultimately in control.

Our next experience with adoption put all of those former lessons to the test and set the Rash family on a course that we had never, in a million years, dreamed would be ours. Our plan was to simply add one more child to our family. We envisioned an adoption much like we experienced with Adam. God, on the other hand, had a much different plan. Almost four years ago during Christmas break, Julie and I independently learned, through means that we can only describe as "spiritual", that our next child wasn't in Utah, he wasn't even in the United States. We were most definitely "called" to an orphanage on the small, hopelessly corrupt, and poverty stricken island of Haiti. The end result of this grueling adoption blessed our family with little Noah.

We were again forced (mostly by U.S. Immigration Services) to come to grips with the concepts of surrender and faith. By-the-way, several U.S. Immigration Service employees learned that you'd better not stand in the way of a couple who believe that God has a little boy who is waiting for them to pick him up from an orphanage in Haiti! We also learned in a very powerful way that God's idea of family really doesn't know borders, race, or culture.

Perhaps the greatest lessons from these experiences are still unfolding and we aren't sure what the future has in store for the Rash family. Ultimately, however, we are grateful for the lessons. But most of all we are eternally grateful for our two wonderful little boys!

Long time . . .

Wow. I think this is the longest break I've taken from the blog since I started it close to 3 years ago. There's no reason for the break, other than the fact that I've been very busy lately and stuff like this tends to drop down the priority list when other, more immediate tasks present themselves. Unfortunately, I'm in no shape to do any catching up tonight. I have been fending off illness for a week now, and as of last night I officially lost the battle. Noah is also sick . . . but with very different symptoms . . . and we spent most of today sharing space on the couch. This is the first time he's been sick since he came home over two years ago and it's been very sad. Sick Noah really, really, really likes me though. We have had a lot of cuddle time over the past few days. He is a pretty good patient too. As long as I hold him or let him watch Krypto the Superdog, he suffers in relative silence. He's not been well for a few days now, and if he's not doing better by morning, I'm going to have to figure out a way to drag both of us to the doctor's office. No fun.

Anyway, the reason for this post came from Adam. Last night he was my date for the Annual Mormon Tabernacle Choir Concert. This year the guest was Natalie Cole and, as always, the show was wonderful. Phil decided to stay home with sick Noah so Adam and I ventured north and even though I wasn't feeling great, it was worth it.

When we arrived at the concert center in SLC, Adam recognized that we were in the place where we watch General Conference. (He didn't call it that though. To him, General Conference is crepe Sunday since we always have a crepe buffet while watching conference.) Anyway, when Adam realized the connection it apparently reminded him of Sunday and this is the conversation that followed:

Adam: Mom, do you know my favorite thing about Sunday?

Me: No. What is it?

Adam: Thinking about Jesus.

Me: (smiling proudly) Awwwwwww . . . that's great Adam. That's the best thing about Sunday.

Adam: Do you know what I HATE about Sunday?

Me: No. What do you hate?

Adam: (emphatically) Going to CHURCH!

When I told Phil about it this morning, he laughed pretty hard. Then, he said "How sad is it that he makes no connection between thinking about Jesus and going to church?"

Clearly we need to be doing something differently.

Bonding moments

When:
Right now. I'm typing as I'm listening to this interaction.

Players:
Noah - who is in trouble and laying on his bed
Adam - who is in the middle of a "no screen" day so he's desperate for things besides TV and video games to do

Scene:
The boys bedroom (while I am in the room next door on the computer).

Adam took a book into the bedroom and offered to read to Noah while he is on his bed. Noah is listening intently while Adam reads about Adam and Eve from the Children's Bible Storybook that Auntie gave them. This is what Adam just now said:
"Listen to this part Noah . . . it's good. Adam and Eve were in the Garden, and they were . . . NAKED!"

giggle, giggle from both boys

Adam is still reading and he just now said "Wait a minute . . . why is there snot on this book?" After Noah told him that he had no idea how it might have gotten there, Adam just kept on reading Apparently the question was prompted by genuine curiosity rather than disgust. He just now pointed out that it's a pretty long book so maybe they should read more later. Noah is in agreement so it appears that they are moving on to something else. Adam just suggested that they go downstairs so that Noah can listen to Adam play the piano. He's working on the Jaws theme and Noah is more than happy to be his audience, even though he only knows the part where the shark is swimming towards some unexpecting victim and he plays those two notes over and over and over and over . . .

I love my boys. I'm a little concerned that they are bonding over naked people and snot, but that's better than yelling and screaming.

Quote of the Week

(We haven't had one of these for quite awhile, but I think this one earns its place on the blog.)

From Noah's bedtime prayer last night:

. . . And bless some people to not be mad . . . like mommies . . . at their little boys. . .

So if you are a mommy to a little boy who frustrates you sometimes, see what you can do about being the answer to his prayer. I'll work on it in our house.

Tag!

I've been tagged, and since I really have nothing going on to blog about (unless you want to hear about our pee trauma yet again) this gives me something to put on here so that nobody thinks I'm dead. Thanks KJ for helping me prove to people (including myself) that I'm not dead.

5 Things I Don’t Leave The House Without
1. Head
2. Shoulders
3. Knees
4. Toes (and all the parts in between)
5. Clothing to cover it all (you're welcome).
(Everything else - including the phone - is optional.)

5 Cartoons I Watched When I Was Younger
1. Jetsons
2. Mighty Mouse
3. Superheroes (I had a crush on Aqua Man of all things)
4. Hong Kong Phooey
5. Fat Albert
(Looking at that list I'm thinking there was a shortage of little girl shows . . .or these were just better.)

5 Things That Terrify Me
1. Moths, Bats, and anything else that might fly into my face
2. Rodents (especially muskrats that find their way into my garage)
3. My future daughters-in-law
4. Our recently elected city council
5. Horror Movies (I REFUSE to watch anything that is even slightly scary.)

5 Things I Hate/Dislike That Everyone Else Seems To Like
1. Rush Limbaugh
2. Twilight and all things related.(Do people really think that Robert Pattinson is good looking???)
3. Call waiting
4. Rachael Ray
5. The New York Yankees

5 Things I Want To Do Before I Die
1. Potty train Noah
2. See my boys happy and successful and taking care of their mother
3. Meet my grandkids
4. Go scuba diving (that one should be easy, but I still haven't done it)
5. See the Greek Isles and the Mediterranean

5 Friends/Family I Tag
1. Britney
2. Amanda
3. Michelle
4. Mike
5. Maren

What EXACTLY does this mean?

So I went to Parent/Teacher conference at Adam's school yesterday. It wasn't one of those times where I was nervous about what I was going to hear. I volunteer in Adam's class which means that I talk to his teacher regularly and I'm pretty sure that if there was a problem I would know about it. I consider myself to be pretty aware and involved with the things that are going on with my boys (this is me patting myself on the back for my excellent parenting skills). This conference was really just one of those things that good parents do, and since we are good parents, we headed to the school.

After waiting for our turn for longer than we expected, Phil finally had to leave because he was going to be late for another meeting. I assured him that it was fine . . . this really isn't a big deal . . . you can go and I'll report back. So he left me sitting there with Adam, still waiting for our turn. Adam noticed another little boy pick a prize out of a basket that was sitting next to his teacher. He got excited and wondered out loud if he would get a prize too. He told me that if he got a good report he would get a prize. That's how it works I guess. Adam sat there the rest of the time completely preoccupied with the prize box. I didn't mind because it kept him in his seat, relatively quiet.

Then it was finally our turn. We confidently stepped up to the table and proceeded with the obligatory parent/teacher interaction. His teacher is very nice and Adam likes her a lot. I like

her too and she seems to be a good fit for Adam. As expected, she told me that Adam is doing really well academically. He loves math and is doing great there. No concerns at all. He loves reading and is doing great, but he needs to work a little bit on his comprehension. Adam has always been a really good reader, as far as getting the words, but he needs to work on paying attention to what he is reading. She told me that the whole class is working on that. It's a pretty standard thing for third graders. Okay. No surprise there. No worries with spelling. He is doing better with his writing, but I'm very aware that it's probably his least favorite thing in school because it takes too much time. Adam does better when he can just cruise through things, e.g math and reading. Writing requires more thought and patience; two things that he doesn't necessarily have in great abundance. His teacher told me that he's learning to formulate his ideas better and she is pleased with his recent work. I was pleasantly surprised to hear that.

Then I threw out the questions that I was pretty sure I already knew the answers to. But again, I'm a good mom so I have to play along and ask the right questions to show that I am a concerned and plugged-in parent:

Me: How is his behavior?

Mrs. A: Things are pretty good. He's doing sooooo much better.

Me: Umm . . . what do you mean?

Mrs. A: He's definitely improved since school started. I've for sure seen a big difference over the past little while.

Me: Oh. (I'm suddenly feeling a little more cautious.) How's he doing with the other kids?

Mrs. A: Soooo much better.

Me: Oh. That's good.

So here's what I'm thinking at this point: Adam's not just doing better. He's doing soooooo much better. Doesn't that mean that he was doing some crazy things before? So, he has greatly improved which should make me feel good, but I can't help but wonder what in the heck was going on before he decided to turn a corner. I looked at Adam with my eyebrows raised, and he

just smiled back at me. Even though she told me that he was doing better, I think he knew that he was busted.

We finished with a few other things and then Adam and I got up to leave. He glanced at the prize box and his teacher nodded at him to let him know he was okay to dig in. Adam normally takes for-ev-er to pick a prize so I was happy to see him grab something with no hesitation at all. We started to walk away and he reached back and quickly grabbed something else. I was still a little confused by some of the things she had told me, but being the conscientious mom that I am, I smiled down at him and said that he can only have one thing and that he needed to put one of the prizes back. Before he could respond, his teacher said "Oh, those are his. They are things that I've confiscated and told him that he couldn't have back until you came in with him." Nice. Clearly the student-of-the-month award has drifted far beyond his grasp, right along with my parent of the month award (which doesn't really exist, but I dream about it anyway). On the bright side, he's completely okay with never being a student-of-the-month type of kid. Just this morning when I told him that he needed to pick a different shirt to wear he told me that he didn't care if he looked like an idiot. In fact, he said that he likes to look like an idiot. Those were his words.

At least I can take solace in knowing that he's smart, even though he's apparently determined to never let anybody know it.

Skittle-licious Daddy

In the car last night with all three of the guys. Adam was thirsty so I handed him an unopened water bottle from the front seat. This is how it went from there:

Adam: (after a brief struggle) I can't get this open . . . Dad? Can you open it?

Phil: Sure. (Adam hands Phil the bottle, and magically, Phil opens it without too much of a struggle at all. He then triumphantly hands it back to Adam.)

Adam: How did you do that?

Noah: (with one of his seemingly "That makes no sense" comments.) Daddy has skittles.

Adam: He does?

Phil: I do?

Noah: Yeah . . . you have big skittles.

Adam: Where? I want some!

Phil: No I don't.

Noah: Yeah . . . you have big skittles to open the water.

Phil: Whu . . . oh, do you mean muscles?

Noah: Yeah, muscles. You have skittles and muscles!

Phil: He's not too far off. This body has had a few too many skittles.