Blink of an Eye

As I look at pictures we have taken over the past year and a half, I am amazed at how much my son has changed. He has gone from round and chunky to long, lean, and much more mature looking. I realize this is the natural order of things but to watch it first hand is still awe inspiring.

Tonight before dinner, we watched some home videos that I saved to my cell phone. One of the earliest ones is of Cameron when he was only a couple months old. He still had that little baby cry and lived for his pacifier. Jump ahead a few months and there is a round faced boy who is more alert, active, and loved the word "GHA!" Next came the supported walking, the hands-free new walker walk, and finally the pro-walker tackling the stairs. The latest video captured Cameron saying his full name, repeating his age, and hollering (much to his Daddy's delight), "Go Auburn!"

Wherever we go, folks are amazed at how well Cameron is talking, how carefully he pronounces words, his faithful repetition of everything he hears (thankfully nothing embarrassing yet), and his attentiveness. Those blue eyes lock people in and before they know it they are singing ABC's with my son or celebrating with him because he counted to 20 with no help. As a Mom... I am pretty darn proud of my boy.

When Chris got home from work tonight, Cameron took the initiative and dragged Daddy outside for some playtime. He led Chris through the yard and eventually into the sand box. The two of them tossed acorns, practiced football cheers, and reveled in the time together. I watched from the kitchen window hoping the sight before me would never fade from my memory. Nothing on television could equal what I watched happening on the back deck. Once upon a time Chris and I feared that children would not happen for us. How thankful I am to see Chris as a Dad now. It suits him. Cameron was made for him... for us. People often say that adults who adopt are doing a wonderful thing for a child in need of a family. Really, in many ways, it is the other way around. Cameron has done wonderful things for us.

As I sit and watch my son transition from babyhood to toddlerhood, as I witness his maturity extend from bottle feeding to eating with a fork and spoon, and I hear his coos become three word sentences that I actually understand.... I begin to wonder how much I have changed. I feel the way I have always felt -- like me. Not sure how that can really be explained. Still, when I look in the mirror, what subtle changes to me have become glaringly obvious to loved ones or friends who have not seen me in a while? How much older do I really look? Is my hair really as grey as my roots try to reveal? Are all the pops and creeks from my joints a sign of youth passing by or just a noise I've never payed attention to before?

I look at my grandparents, whom I love and adore with a special emotion deep inside, and I wonder when "that" transformation happened. When did they shrink, get grey, gain or lose weight, wrinkle, and end up with more pills on their counters than a pharmacy has on hand? When did that happen? I look at my Mom and she still looks young and as I have known her. When will she suddenly look like Grandma? Grandma is still beautiful but definitely Grandma-like. When will it be my turn? Will I see it coming? Will I wake up one day, look in the mirror and suddenly be stunned by the reflection looking back? Honestly, I'm not sure I am going to progress gracefully. I just might go kicking and screaming.

As life greets me day by day, I find myself pondering these questions more than I used to. At times I get stressed by them but then am happily distracted by the miracle of my boy. For now I will leave the worrying to another day and simply enjoy the abundant blessings in front of me. The fact is, I will look "grandma-like" one day and there is nothing I can do about it. I can only hope that my children and grandchildren will look upon me then the way I look upon my parents and grandparents now. They are beautiful and I love them. Perhaps, in the end, that is the greatest accomplishment I can claim.

No need to hurry though. = - )

Training Wheels

I've spent the larger part of my adult working life as an early childhood educator. From infants on up through school age summer camp programs, I've been there. It has been over five years since I've set foot in a room full of wee ones. Still, some things are permanently engraved within and, should I ever go back, it will be like old times. That is not going to happen any time soon. In fact, it isn't even the point to this particular blog. This story is all about Cameron.... as if that were any great surprise.

I bring up my classroom experience simply to show that I've been there. I've watched the development of children, helped it along in fact, only to send them off to the next classroom once their goals had been met in my own. I watched their development in pockets. With Cameron I get the chance to see the whole process uninterrupted. This front row seat to my son's growth is amazing. Despite my experiences, I feel like I am seeing it all for the first time. I marvel at it's beauty.

Cameron is a toddler now which by definition means busy, busy, busy. Every day he tries something a little bit newer and braver than the day before. His words are coming out clearer and I am shocked on a daily basis to hear words come from his mouth that I didn't even know he knew. I look upon his ever growing body and wonder where that little baby went. Even though it was less than 18 months ago, I barely remember him ever being that small. How quickly those memories fade. Thank goodness for lots and LOTS of photographic evidence.

With all this growing and changing also comes the teaching. That has kicked into full gear as of late. Early on it was relatively simple; things like helping him to hold his own bottle, weening him from the binky, prepping him to crawl. Now, however, the work has gotten a bit harder. Cameron has discovered his own will and "yes" that old sin nature is kicking in. As his Pediatrician says, "They are not moral creatures."

Last week I took Cameron to the local WalMart for some out-and-about time. You know, a change of scenery. By the end of the trip I was exhausted. It was like releasing a bull into a crystal shop. Everything had to be touched, pulled down, tugged on, tasted, removed, dropped, mixed up, and de-tagged. I'm sure whoever was watching us via the security cameras were cringing at our existence. I did my best to direct the storm but, once released, it is hard to corral. Could I have been any worse of a mother that day? That is how I felt.

We went back to WalMart this week and "no" I wasn't a glutton for punishment. It was training day. Cameron was going to get his first lesson in how to behave in a store. For starters, I needed supplies. Well, supply really (singular). Backpack leashes are made for children his age. I've seen other families use them but didn't really have an opinion about them until now (Wonderful). Though it felt more like walking the family dog than touring a store with my son, I hung in there for the much needed lesson. At first he didn't seem to notice the lack of movement. The leash would only go so far before it tightened and pulled him backward. Add in the smooth floor tiles and he had several involuntary sit downs. Cameron eventually got mad and his frustration level kicked up a few notches. I stayed consistent though and made sure that with every redirection I would get down to his eye level and sternly tell him what was not okay. One tantrum, one time out, and several stares from strangers later, he started to get the hang of it. I could see the desire physically come over him, that need to reach out and grab something, only to see it fade as control set in. Worn out by the end, not even my praises caused much of a reaction. He was all too willing to sit down and stay put when directed.

We still have a ways to go but I think we started well. In the classroom I would never have thought about store training. I didn't know it was necessary. It makes sense though and I feel like a better Momma for it. Cameron will be all the better for it too. May God Himself strike us down if either Chris or I ruin this precious gift God has so graciously entrusted to us. We have our work cut out for us AND a whole new appreciation for the work our parents put into our training (Thank you by the way).

As I ponder all the lessons I will need to teach Cameron from here on out (not to mention all the ones I haven't even considered yet) I feel the weariness try to settle in early. Being a parent is work and we hope to be really good parents. Chris and I will make mistakes (as much we hate to admit it) but we hope that Cameron will be patient with us. In the classroom I've spent eight hours a day, five days a week, alone with up to ten three year olds. That isn't nearly as exhausting as being a Mom. I don't get paid, there are no sick days or vacation, and it is a 24 hour shift. Regardless, this has got to be the best job I've ever held.

Lord.... please help Chris and I to do well. And thank you for trusting us with something a amazing as our son!

Traveling with Toddlers

Confession time. A year ago I was a mess. Why? Chris and Cameron went on a vacation without me. Money was tight, someone needed to stay home with the bird (Paz), and Chris really wanted to spend time with his sister in Texas. I was good with the plan until it included Cameron. It made sense though. Cameron is his son just as much as he is mine. Auntie Ann-marie needed some time with her nephew too. It shocked me just how much this trip rocked my world. Every day that my boys were away, I struggled. Not even two tubs of ice cream and a whole pepperoni pizza could chase away the blues. As Chris waved goodbye to me before disappearing through the security zone at the airport... I cried. When Chris rounded the corner waving hello upon their return... I cried. I swore that we would not be separated again. This whole Mommy thing really threw me for a loop. I suddenly didn't know how to be alone or what to do with myself without a little one to tend to. It was not pretty. Certainly not one of my prouder moments.

Imagine my feeling of hypocrisy then when the next trip out of town included Cameron and... me. Chris couldn't get any more time off from work and it was time for a trip to see my family in Colorado. Did I struggle with this? No. Why? Because Cameron was with me. See, hypocrite! Chris did a great job while he and Cameron were away. It wasn't that I didn't trust him. Like I said, though, I didn't know how not to be without my son. All these years on my own or with Chris and suddenly I couldn't handle time to myself. Crazy!

I have vowed to Chris that the next time he and Cameron need to go for a visit without me, I will do much better. In fact, I've dared Chris to go. Anywhere. Just go. He hasn't taken me up on it yet. I've promised that there will be tears but that my attitude will be better. Still, home he has stayed. That hasn't stopped me, however. An opportunity this past month presented itself and I felt that to say no would be rude. So Cameron and I headed out to Texas (almost one year to the day of Chris' trip) to spend time with Auntie Ann-marie once again. This time Chris stayed home with Paz.

Now that Cameron is a toddler, flying on any plane (let alone the puddle jumper we were on) is interesting. Tight spaces and active children were never meant to go together. It wasn't a horrible experience but it definitely had its low points. For starters, Cameron's diaper leaked not once but twice. He was sitting on my lap. To the gentleman sitting in the seat directly in front of us... thank you for not yelling at me for the numerous times Cameron's foot kicked the back of your seat. Finally, I'm not sure if the flight attendant's smile at the end of the trip was gratitude to me for cleaning up the treats Cam spilled on the floor or if she was happy to see us leave. Sometimes paranoia kicks in only now I am just too tired to care. Bottom line, it would have been wonderful to have had Chris on the trip with us for many reasons... as a flight buddy would be just one of them.

The flight home was better, though not any where near perfect. Cameron and I were moved to a double seat since some passengers, for reasons unknown, decided not to show up. THANK YOU LORD! Cameron enjoyed his own personal space. He kept looking at me strangely, however, which was probably because after a week of non-stop touring I was exhausted. I would start to sing him a song only to suddenly realize that I was dreaming. Yep, I kept falling asleep in the middle of my son's favorite tunes. Cameron did throw a few tantrums, he is a toddler after all, but nothing too devastating. When the pilot announced that we would be pulling into our gate within fifteen minutes that must have been the magical cue to all children on the plane. Cameron suddenly felt the need to fall into a peaceful slumber. Funny how everyone around us commented on this ironic fact. I smiled through blurry eyes and headed to the loving arms of my Husband as soon as I could. I was home.

With children around, life changes fast. You have to adapt and learn to go with it. I've learned to relax a bit (yes, a bit) and am grateful for the opportunities to grow as a parent, as an adult, and as a human being. Thankfully the next trip out of town includes all three of us. Chris, Honey, I am so grateful to you for being my partner in this thing called parenting. However, if Cameron's diaper leaks this time... I hope he is on your lap. Just saying.

Big Bear

Before I was born, my Grandma crocheted a turtle and used it as a decorative bow for a baby shower gift she gave to my Mom. That turtle became my closest companion all through my childhood. I didn't go anywhere without her. Turtle slept beside me every night and kept away the scary things. She traveled with me on vacations because no pillow was more comfortable than her shell. Turtle was a constant in my life and still holds a place of honor to this day. Time has aged her. I prefer to call her lumps, bumps, patched-up parts and discoloration... love. Yes, when I look at Turtle I see years and years of love.

For my brother Damon a crocheted Donald Duck was his security blanket. For my brother Trevor it was a Cabbage Patch Cat named Winkie. That is, of course, after he lost his ET doll at the park. I love to remember the story my friend Susan told me. When she was a small child, and her Mother dared to wash her special item, she would stand crying before the running dryer calling for her "wee-bee." The point is, many of us have had a special doll, blanket, whatever, that got us through our younger years. Items that, whether they survived or not, still hold a special place in our lives to this day... even if no longer at our sides.

Cameron is 17 months old. Since the day we brought him home he has been showered with every manner of stuffed animal. There are dogs, cats, bears, ducks, mice, cows, turkeys, rabbits, and one bunny-eared Easter Dinosaur. Of all these cuddly, stuffed playthings there is one that has been shown more love than the others. We call him Big Bear. You see, there are two bears that have lived in Cameron's crib since day one... one big, the other little. Early on Cameron reached for Little Bear more often than not because, well, he was small too. Little Bear was the right size for a surprisingly short period of time. Chris and I are amazed everyday at how much Cameron is growing. No longer is he an "infant." I am both saddened and exhilerated that he is developing into a very fast moving, agile, and active toddler. With this development and size has also come his preference for Big Bear.

No matter the time of day, once this favorite toy comes into view Cameron is sure to squeal with delight and say repeatedly, "Big Be-o," which is the current pronunciation. This is usually followed by tight hugs, sweet little kisses, and always, always, always long periods of chewing on Big Bear's ears, nose, or tale resulting in very soggy fur. Within a couple of days not only is Big Bear discolored and crusty from dried drool, be he smells pretty unpretty if you know what I mean. So Big Bear is sure to get a bath at least once a week. This is all well and good for the first two minutes after he comes out of the dryer. Cameron is usually nearby and spies his favorite little friend in the laundry basket, immediately picks him up and follows the above mentioned routine. Cleanliness is short lived, love is forever.

The dilemma for Momma and Daddy is this... already Big Bear is looking haggard. At this rate he will not make it for the amount of years that most little ones carry around their security companion. I actually plan to look online to see if I can hunt down an exact replica of Big Bear. I am not above having a backup bear for the inevitable day of no return. Right? Wrong? Hard to say. Surely I would have noticed if Turtle suddenly looked new and pristine. True love leaves unfixable marks. When Trevor lost ET there was no backup. He simply mourned and moved on, much to Winkie's relief.

So whether or not Big Bear stands the test of time or if, like the Velveteen Rabbit, he is loved into reality, Cameron will have loved early on. Already Big Bear shows signs of Cameron's preference which, if stories are to be believed, is a very rare and beautiful gift. The following from Margery Williams says it well:

"The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. He was wise, for he had seen a long succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it.

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

I do believe that Big Bear is well on his way to becoming real. What a beautiful thing to witness. Thank you Lord. I am continually amazed.

God Bless This Mess

We all have our way of doing things. One person may vacuum their carpet in orderly rows while another is haphazard about it by going in every direction. Some may organize their canned goods in the pantry by size and label while another just tosses the food in and hopes they remember they have it before buying it again. Of course, we are all probably pretty aware of the old toothpaste debate... squeeze from the bottom or wherever your hand happens to land? The examples are truly endless.

When Chris and I got married we had to adapt our individual ways of living into a cohesive shared way. Changes had to be made to both of our routines. I learned that shirts were to be folded a certain way because that was his preference. He learned how to put towels away so that I would not go in behind him and redo it in a huff. On other things, we made up new rules thus forgetting "my" or "his" way and created "our way." That is just part of marriage. The longer you are married, the more these new ways become solidified. Add in children and the rules have to change again.

Chris and I were married seven years before Cameron came along. In that time, we grew quite accustomed to "our" way of living. The house always looked just so. Items were quickly put back into place if -GASP- they were somehow moved. We slept in every Saturday and could pick-up and go on a moments notice if the occasion presented itself. We found our niche and it worked for us. Suddenly, the phone rang and our case worker announced the great news that we had a son. In a matter of a few minutes our lives, and routine, were changed forever.

In the year that we have been a family of three, our home has definitely taken on a new look. Now if you were to stop by first thing in the morning or just before Chris and I called it a night in the evening, you would find a house in order. In the hours in between, though, totally different story. Chris and I have definitely learned to relax, somewhat, and are put to the test every day. We have learned that a one year old is but a tiny tornado. Wherever he goes, whichever room he is in, a path of destruction is left behind. It is our responsibility to train our son in the fine art of cleaning but I have a feeling that our house won't be the same for many, many years to come. I wonder if our childhood homes were clean and organized before we came into the world? To our parents we say, "Sorry. We understand now."

I wouldn't change a thing though. I actually delight in putting little toys and stuffed animals away once Cameron has gone to bed. That may just be because we are still new at this and it hasn't had a chance to get old yet. But even then, I am thankful for the work. We once wondered if children would ever be a part of our lives. Now that they are, it is Heaven on Earth.

So.... bring on the crayon marked walls, the spilled milk on the rug, the toys underfoot, the mud on the shoes, the bugs in the pockets (actually, lets avoid that one if at all possible), etc... because we are ready! Chris and I had a life before Cameron came along but now we are truly living. For us, this is a great path to be on and a fun new routine to learn.

Oops... Not Daddy!

Have you ever had that moment where you swore the person next to you was your parent, sibling, spouse, or friend and at the very moment you leaned in to hug them, lean on them, or strike up a conversation with them you realized it wasn't them? Oops, hello total stranger looking at me like I am a lunatic. And, of course, there is always someone who does know you right near by who got to witness the whole embarrassing moment and will, much to your chagrin, never, ever, what-so-ever let you live it down. I've been the one embarrassed and, much to my friend Julia's dismay, been the joyful observer who was only to happy to enjoy the topic over and over again, year after blessed year (imagine a delightful sigh right here).

Well, Cameron had one of those moments a couple of weeks ago which meant, by motherly proximity, I had it too. Chris was playing in a volleyball match while Cam and I wandered around. Actually, Cam wandered, I followed. This went on for near an hour when the clock started to near dinner time and that much closer to bed time. By definition that meant that the little one was getting cranky and was tired of Mom following him around instead of feeding him and putting him to bed. In the hopes that Dad would do what Mom was obviously failing at, Cameron headed in the direction of Chris' match. Standing next to the bleachers there was a man. Cameron, being one and only (and very literally) knee high, saw a pair of tall legs. Daddy had tall legs and Daddy was in the room somewhere so, naturally, this was Daddy. In the moment I realized what was about to happen, Cameron grabbed the man around the shins and buried his head just below the man's knee caps. A delighted hum of "oohs" and "awes" filled the air as women in the bleachers watched.

Here is where the story gets interesting. The man whose legs Cameron took to be Daddy's legs belonged to a dark skinned African American man who was minding his own business while checking a text on his cell phone. The women in the stand saw the following: a black "Dad," a white "Mom," and a mixed race child. At least that is what everyone who sees Cameron thinks, that he is mixed race while in fact he is full African American. Nobody believes this, of course, because he is fair skinned with blond hair and blue eyes. But, according to all the legal paperwork we were given before, during, and after the adoption, his birth parents were and are both African Americans. That is not what people see though. They see Cameron with me and naturally assume that his Dad is a black skinned man. Or, they see Cameron with Chris and assume that Mom is a black skinned woman. Only natural, I assume, given his mixed race characteristics. It truly makes for some great conversations with people. This particular night being one of the best. For you see, the women in the stands thought they were seeing a family having an adorable bonding moment. Then I went and said something that shocked them. I simply said, "Cameron, that isn't Daddy."

The squeals of laughter and embarrassment by the women and the man was infectious. Once my brain caught up to what was going on I had to laugh too. I mean, it looked like a right assumption. The blushing man backed away and disappeared. I never saw where he went to as one of the women engaged me in conversation about Cameron. She, like many before her, asked if Cameron was "mixed." When I tell people he is full African American they all think the same thing... I must mean that Dad is full African American because Cameron is so fair. This time was no different. It was then asked of me which of the volleyball players was my Husband. I pointed Chris out and saw, to my misinterpretation, looks of confusion. I thought the women couldn't tell who I had pointed at. So, I pointed again this time drawing attention to the number on the back of his team shirt. The look on the women's faces was pure shock and confusion. That is when I realized what they were thinking. They, as already explained, assumed Chris was going to be a black skinned man. What they saw was a white skinned man. How could this be Cameron's Dad?

The rest of the evening, after a brief explanation, was about adoption. The women and a few other curious bystanders wanted to know all about the adoption process, how we came to the decision to move forward, what it was like to be instant-parents, and such. The best way I knew how to sum everything up was to say that we trusted in God's plan. In the end, we were blessed to become the parents of a wonderful little boy who fills our lives with joy every day. Even after a year together it is still like a dream. I am amazed often at the very realness of it all. We have a son and that feels like a daily miracle.

I'm sure as the years go by there will be more conversations like this one. As Cameron gets older I wonder if the assumptions will change. We are a family and whether white, black, red, yellow or purple with green polka dots, that is all that matters. Life is about learning and I am so thankful that I get to experience the everyday lessons of life with my Husband and Son.

Happy Anniversary!

As Chris and I faced year after year of unexplained infertility, life took on a sort of routine. We worked, traveled, and saved for rainy days but always in the back of our minds were the "what if" questions. You know, things like... what if we had a child running around the house right now... what if we need to not buy such and such because my body will finally kick in, we'll get pregnant and need the money for that... what if a birth parent picks us today and we become instant parents.... etc. This was our existence for six years. We played our respective parts and got quite good at "not" talking about the ever present elephant in the room. Instead, that elephant became a very unwelcome friend, the kind you can tolerate but would be much happier without. This was our life. Some days we were really good at pretending that everything was normal. Other days, not so much. But what more could we do? We hoped all of our hopes. Prayed all of our prayers. Basically sucked the faith right out of all our faith. When this routine became so constant that we thought it might never change, that is when it changed. Oh Heavenly Days!!!

We met and brought home our son Cameron on Tuesday, March 17, 2009. This past Wednesday, we celebrated our one year anniversary... Cam Day! Has it really been a year already? I realize and fully accept that as we get older time seems to go by very fast but this was some kind of Star Trek, warp speed kind of fast. WOW! Still, here Chris and I are and we stand just as amazed by this little miracle as we did on that very first day.

When it all began, we were clueless. Shocked really that the agency let a couple of non-experienced dreamers walk out the door with a three week old baby. One year later, we are still a bit clueless but we are learning. Cameron seems to be doing just fine which I take as a good sign. In fact, he has actually made this parenting thing much easier than we thought possible. He has seamlessly moved from one phase to the next with little help from us. His first tooth came without any fanfare. We noticed it one night as we got him ready for bed. One day he simply didn't need all the pillow props around him as he sat because he decided not to tip over anymore. The crawling... okay, that came with a little drama. The day after Christmas Cameron had his first full out tantrum. Forty-five minutes later, he was pulling himself up to a sitting position and crawling. That was all he needed to move on to the next chapter in his development. As for walking, he took the lead on that too. One day he decided that sitting on laps was no longer enough so he slid down to the floor, grabbed our hands, and led us around the house as if he had planned it that way all along. In the past week this walking phase has gone from needed support to all out independence. Cameron is a year old and already I'm becoming obsolete. Ha ha, just kidding. Even the most independent person needs someone to snuggle with. Chris and I are more than happy to play that role consistently.

Several times on Wednesday, Chris and I just sat back and watched as our son played, talked, walked, drank from a sippy cup and eventually snoozed in his bed. He is still so small and yet when we hold him in our arms there is definite change. If it were not for photographic evidence I don't think we would believe he was once so small. We see newborns around town and are certain that Cameron came into the world exactly as we see him today. What is even scarier is how much he will change this coming year. Last Monday Cameron and I went to watch Chris play work league volleyball. A little two year old girl, there with her grandmother, took an interest in Cameron and hung around with us for a bit. I kept looking from her to my son, amazed at the difference in appearance. There was nothing "baby" about this little girl. She looked like a two year old. In all the things Chris and I will gain this year as our son grows into a two year old himself, we are going to lose that "baby" part of him. I am both excited and completely saddened by this fact.

For six years we lived in a middle world of grays and uncertainties. For the past year, and with every new day, we live in a sunlit world of colors and musical sounds. What we once had was very good, but what we have now is enchanting. Every day feels like a new opportunity to watch life change, grow, and develop. It is a most amazing sight to behold. Cameron needs us and, even more, we need him. I cannot explain God's ways or why things happen the way they do, but I do know that this miracle was worth the wait.

Happy Anniversary little man! Daddy and I love you more than words can express. Lord, guard and protect him and help us to be the best parents we can be. Thank you for this most blessed opportunity!

Snow Storms and Birthdays and Checkups, Oh My!

I knew that the month of February was going to be busy but I didn't expect it to be so full that the month would literally disappear in the blink of an eye.

Weekend #1: A huge snow storm hit the northeast coast of the United States, shattering records and shutting down Washington DC. It started off pretty enough, or so was our opinion as we watched from the comfort and warmth of our home. As time passed, however, the weight of the snow began to affect the trees and bushes until, in the wee hours of the morning, debris not only took down power lines but all electricity with it. The house was eerily silent as the morning wore on. We took food from the fridge, put it in coolers, and set them outside because the temperature was far better out there than what remained in our fridge. Joy returned momentarily as power blinked back on around lunch time. I've never been so thankful for the dutiful hum of appliances and light fixtures. But alas, my hopes of sleeping in my own bed that night were dashed when the power went out for good just before the sun set. Feeling fully disgruntled and acting much like a spoiled child, I reluctantly joined my son, husband, and bird in the car so that we could make camp at a local hotel. All I can say about the place of our rest was that it had a ceiling, walls, and a mostly intact door. Cameron's socks grew darker the more he crawled on the floor. Paz developed an attitude that matched if not exceeded mine, and though we had cable (a luxury we have passed on for the the past couple of years), we ended up watching a movie we have on DVD at home and had seen enough times to be able to quote. I regret my mood during that time as it all should have been taken in stride with a feeling of adventure. I am thankful though for all the men and women who worked long, cold hours so that power was restored and we could fully enjoy the comforts of our home once again. Ah, home sweet home!

Weekend #2: It was time for Cameron's one year old photos. We needed to have these completed just before his actual birthday in order to fulfill one of our adoption obligations. For the first three post placement visits, it is required of the newly formed family to provide letters and photos for the birth family's file. This is usually followed up by some extra letters and photos, mostly because of all the exciting milestones that the adoptive parents want to share. At least that is how I was. Cameron's birth mom chose life and through that decision we have an amazing little boy. I wanted to make sure that, if she decided to look through the file, there would be a pretty good account of Cameron's first year. I am proud of this child and wanted his birth family to know that he is loved and cared for beyond measure. Beyond that first year, though, it is only required that the adoptive family provide a letter and professional photos at the time of a birthday. Being as this was his first, I made extra sure that the rules were followed to the letter. So, a week before the big day, Chris and I kept our appointment with a local photo studio, provided two outfits, and did our best to help the photographer get the best smiles possible out of our son. Cameron was amazing and we ended up with many pictures to choose from. Chris and I had to give one another kudos for not getting irritated at each other as we narrowed the choices down to the final selection. As with all the firsts for Cameron this past year, this experience was really for the grown ups and, truthfully, we had a great time. I am so thankful for these opportunities!

Weekend #3: The big "first birthday" arrived on a Friday. It actually turned out to be a pretty boring day as birthdays go. Cameron was quiet and tired. Turns out that he was cutting his first upper tooth. Chris, his folks, sister, and I spent a good portion of the day shopping, cooking, decorating and preparing for the party planned for Saturday. I was a stressed out mess. Big gatherings and quiet homebodies does not a calm person make. Thankfully Chris has the gift of gab, his folks host get-togethers all the time, and his sister, well, she was great company and made me laugh. Part of my nervousness came from the fact that a book I read said that the first birthday should not have a lot of people or decorations as these things tend to make a child feel overwhelmed. We broke both those rules and I was terrified that Cameron would be miserable the whole time thus making everyone else miserable. The end result? The best party EVER! Well, from this nervous nelly's stand point anyway. Cameron acted like a social pro and made sure to visit with everyone, never getting upset once. The guests had such a good time that they ended up staying well past the 2:30 end time. The food was beyond tasty and the atmosphere was calm. It could not have gone any better. Why was I so worried? Still, SO glad we have a whole year until the next one. WHEW!

Weekend #4: Actually, the final big event for the month of February happened the Monday before the last weekend... the dreaded twelve month checkup. For some strange reason, when I set the appointment three months ago, I signed up for a 10am slot. That is when Cameron goes down for a mid morning nap. Not exactly a good start for a child about to get shots. But, true to form, he did great. He wouldn't leave my lap but allowed his pediatrician to do all that needed to be done to complete the checkup. We received lots of advice about baby proofing our house and for encouraging language development (no pointing with a grunt allowed). After a slew of compliments from the Doc about how adorable Cameron was, we were off to the shot room. Eleanora is this sweet older gal who has obviously done the whole immunizing little children thing for a long time. She has a firm, quick hand. Cameron cried, so would I after three shots, but recovered quickly. However, he wouldn't let me lay him back on the evil table in order to put his pants back on. I am learning that Moms have to perform all sorts of daring feats with their children in the most creative and precarious situations. Getting fully dressed and saying goodbye to Eleanor was not the end, next came blood work at the lab. I was under the impression, wrong I soon found out, that Cameron would just have to have his finger pricked. I realized quickly how misled I was when the new nurse pulled out a tube and started looking for a good vein in my son's arm. Again, Cameron did pretty good when the needle went in, it only got difficult when that darned ole vein wouldn't hold still and the nurse had to keep moving the needle underneath his skin. I am happy to report that, after a dose of infant Tylenol and two good naps, Cameron had zero side effects thus leading us to the final weekend. What did we do? Absolutely nothing! There was no place we had to be, nobody we had to see, and we certainly had no money left to spend. So, weekend #4 turned out to be the most quiet part of February. We had survived and were reaping the rewards at last.

March.... we are so glad you are offering up a pretty quiet schedule thus far. Should I be knocking on wood, stroking a lucky rabbits foot, or some other such nonsense? Just remember, uneventful is the key this month!

Baby Sign

When I was in college I spent all but one semester working in a childcare center that was located in the on-campus lab school. After a day of classes, reports, or exams it was nice to go and hang out with some kiddos. One semester was spent in the company of two year olds who are, oddly enough, old enough now to be in college themselves. YIKES! The remainder of my employed time was spent in the Infant Room.

While working in the Infant Room I was introduced to the use of sign language as a precursor to verbal communication which infants, obviously, are not yet ready for. What they could not say with words, they were able to say with their hands leading to much happier, tantrum-free babies. I am not sure how revolutionary the idea was back then but it was new to me. By the time those little ones moved up to the Toddler Room they were able to sign words like please, thank you, more, milk, cookie, and finished. Unlike in other classrooms I have been in, these children were quite calm and content.

I graduated from college in December of 1995. Hard to believe that it has been fifteen years. Can that much time have really gone by? The skills that I learned back then are coming in quite handy with Cameron now. I started signing to him early on with the expectation that his eager-to-learn mind would start putting it all together as he matured. In the past couple of weeks, my efforts have begun to show leaving Chris and I picking our jaws up off the floor because of our son's genius. Hey now, I waited a long time to brag on my child... now is as good a time as any.

I'm not alone in my signing efforts and give much credit to a DVD series called "Baby Signing Time". Rachel is the hostess and with the help of her animated friends Alex, Leah, and Hopkins she creatively teaches everyday word signs through song and example. Many of the signs that Cameron has been exposed to have been making an appearance not only from his hands but clearly from his understanding. For example, the use of the sign for "more" along with "please" has made an appearance in anything from snack time to toys. As I mixed his bottle one afternoon he watched and then made the sign for "milk." He shocked me the other day when, after pushing a button on a toy that makes a barking sound, he signed the word for "dog." I did not prompt him and had no idea what he was doing until my sluggish adult brain caught up. Infant minds simply amaze me!

Cameron is not only learning how to say with his hands what his mouth is not yet able to pronounce BUT the DVD is also encouraging him to attempt words verbally. Imagine my surprise when instead of signing "banana" Cameron said it out loud. Okay, so it came out more like "nana" but that is close enough at this stage of development. Suddenly he is trying all sorts of new words like "up" (which comes out as "pup"), duck, quack, ick (in which he really likes the sound the "ck" makes), dog, "nigh nigh" (for going to sleep) and grandma (or something that sounds close). There is still plenty of the baby babbling going on but I must admit that Chris and I are loving every minute of watching our son learn and grow.

Perhaps I sound like many other mother's out there in my joy of this time. There may even be some readers out there who feel that our experiences with Cameron are not worthy of the blogosphere. I would have to disagree and I'll tell you why. After we sent out our Christmas Card and Letter this past December, we received an email from our case worker at the adoption agency. She wanted to ask our permission to use that letter when counseling women considering abortion. Chris, Cameron and I are but one adoption story out there in the world today that show how important life is. How much joy there is in it to be found. Because Cameron's birth mom chose life, Chris and I were able to have the family we had longed for AND the world is now blessed with an amazing human being. What she did was no small thing given today's options and her circumstances. We will never take here sacrifice for granted. This blog is a recording of our adoption story and perhaps, and we may never know, it will encourage someone to choose life. Even if you are not ready to be a parent, there are so many of us out there who long to raise and love a child and have not the chance. There are no human words, signed or said out loud, that express just how grateful we are and what a miracle you can be. So to all you birth mom's out there.... Thank You!