Fail Faster

My amazing husband likes to remind me of that saying quite often...

"Fail Faster."

If you're not doing something new, something daring, you're not growing. You become a stagnant, scummy pond. Ick. I don't want to be that. As hard as it is to face my fear of failure, I don't want to be that.

So, what's a #fearfast when one doesn't ever actually have to face one's fear head on? Sure, for my #fearfast, the possibility of failure was always there. I just hoped I never actually came upon it. But what would that have done? How would I have grown?

So...I failed. Like, I totally, completely bombed something. I put myself out there and failed. Ugh.

A little back story... my family and I were introduced to essential oils several months ago. They seriously have made such an amazing, positive impact on our lives. And I love seeing my friends benefit from them as well. So much so, that I just can't stop sharing them. So, since I'm sharing them anyways, I figure...why not? I took a step of faith and officially became a Wellness Advocate with doTERRA Essential Oils. 

I have been praying for quite some time for some type of job for me. Yes, our family can use a bit more income, but really, I just felt like I needed an outlet in which I could use my talents and feel a sense of accomplishment. I totally feel like what I do for our church, Restoration Community, matters. And there is no doubt that pastoring that church is a family calling and a team effort. But...I guess...I wanted something apart from that. A little piece of something exciting—something challenging— for which I was fully responsible.

But that meant that I would have to face my fear of it taking a nosedive before it even takes off. 

I made the decision to take this step leap plunge just a few weeks ago. I scheduled my first class, for which I pumped myself up to teach. I strongly believe in doTERRA's essential oils and have no doubt that everyone can improve their family's overall wellness with them, but taking this on was big.

And so my first class...? The one that had me facing my fear of failure...? Yeah. I faced it alright. Failure smacked me right on the forehead.

No one came. Not one person. 

None. 

Zilch. 

Zip. 

LOL! I can laugh at it. Now, anyways. Why did I think I could get by this whole Lenten #fearfast thing without actually facing my fear and failing? Silly, Kat...

So, I'm not letting it stop me! I've scheduled an Open House Launch Party for my new venture. It's tomorrow, April 11. Maybe no one will show up... But I know God is calling me to keep going. He wants me stronger than I am now. He wants me more daring than I am now—for His glory. He wants better for me than I would have for myself. So, I'm going to keep pressing on. 

Here goes nothing something...

Whoopsi Daisy

Remember when I first posted about my Lent #fearfast and I said that I'm sure there would be be some time that I fall on my face in attempting to face my fear of failure? Yeah... Is happened. A few times.

One of the big steps I've committed to taking to face my debilitating fear of failure is to run a half marathon. (Just a half, because, really, is anyone's body suppose to ever run 26 miles? I think not.) So I signed up to run the Music City Half Marathon in Nashville. I've been struggling with IT Band issues, which gives me quite a lot of pain in my knee. But after some great physical therapy guidance and prayer, I've been able to start building my miles. But not without some pitfalls along the way...

Confession: I'm not very lady-like when I run. No. Not at all. Before I started taking a more natural and organic way to help with allergies, I would have to slow down—you know, from my speed of sound pace *eye-roll*—to blow my nose. The tissue would flap up in my face, down into my mouth. Whoopsi-Daisy. It was just a mess.

While I've seemed to have found a great solution to my terrible allergies, I still have a spitting issue. And by issue, I mean, while I have the need to spit during a run, I'm horrid at it. Literally, half the time, it ends up somewhere on my clothes, or even one time, back on my cheek. Beautiful. Whoopsi-Daisy.

But I keep running.

This week, I'm up in Chicago, showing my kiddos where I grew up. It's been great being up here, and we still have quite a bit planned. How have I not had a Chicago dog or Italian Beef yet?! But each weekend, I have my "long run" days. Yesterday, it was 10 miles. I've never in my life ran that far in one day. I did it. Barely. But I did it.

I hadn't kept up with the physical therapy strengthening I need to do for my IT band. I stretch...most days. I had to skip some short runs during the week. That is quite impossible to not have to do, being a church plant pastor. So i was in quite a bit of pain after the run. well, for the last three miles, really. I think when I first decided to do this #fearfast, I simply thought doing daring things and trusting on God would be the extent of it.

But it's more. It's a lot more.

Any calling from God requires preparation. While I wish it were the case, I can't just sign up for a 13.1 mile race one day and expect to run it well the next. There is training—physical, mental, spiritual—that has to be done. I need to stretch my muscles, strengthen them, and teach them how to run long distance. I need to keep challenging my mind to go that one more mile, to stop walking and get back into my pace. I need to strengthen my faith and stand firm in knowing God wants me to do this, He will be glorified through this. He wants me to grow in this way.

I'd love to just be able to run the half marathon now. To feel the exhilaration of accomplishing such a big feat. But...I suppose...it wouldn't be as exhilarating if it were easy.

So I'll do my best to keep with it. Keep challenging myself, keep increasing my distance. With more "Whoopsi-Daisys" sure to follow, I'll just click for a Power Song and keep going.

Ashes to Ashes

Wednesday was filled with firsts for us. It was our church plant's first Ash Wednesday service. I'm pretty sure it was Derek's first Ash Wednesday service...ever. Being raised Catholic, I have attended many Ash Wednesday services. (Memories of my high school friends and I going into the restroom after school Mass and "perfecting" the crosses on our forehead by dusting them off a bit came flooding back to me...) But for my husband, I don't think he had ever even attended such a service.

And that got me thinking...

Let me back track a bit. Derek is a pretty awesome guy. I know I'm biased, but I think the majority of people would agree. There's something...charismatic about him. He's a supportive husband, loyal friend, ridiculously fun "Papa," motivating leader, unique but upstanding pastor, and just all-around amazing guy. Wednesday evening made me realize once again how much he inspires me. How much he unintentionally prompts me to be a better...me.

He had never planned an Ash Wednesday service. He didn't have anyone with more knowledge telling him how best to explain Ash Wednesday to our church. He didn't have someone with more experience advising him how to coordinate such an event. The guy hadn't even BEEN to an Ash Wednesday service!

But he knew God was calling him to have one. And he listened. And he responded. There was never any fear of failure causing him to pause.

I thought about it as I was driving home that night. I thought about the impact the service had on the children of our church. It was interactive, tactile, spiritual, reflective—all things engaging for people 3 to 83.

I thought about the impact it made on people who attend other churches, but were looking for a place to recognize Ash Wednesday in our community. I thought about how it called people to reflect on their sins, their mortality, their needs, their love for God. I thought about it all and was inspired.

If Derek had let fear stop him from organizing such an event, God might not have been glorified in the way He was that night.

And what does that mean for me? How many times have I cheated God of receiving praise because I was too preoccupied with the fact that I might fail...?

This #fearfast is going to be good. It's already so good. And I'm so thankful for a man by my side who spurs me on in facing my fears. If he didn't face his, we would have missed out on a lot this Wednesday.

That picture right there ^^^ Those are Bennett's drawings—responses from the different stations at our Ash Wednesday service. And that guy fourth from the left? Yeah. That's Jesus. On the cross. Just another first for us Hunters that day. :)

#fearfast

Break out the feather dusters! The blog is back...and in desperate need of a face-lift. I'll get to that later.

So what's the deal? Why write a post? Why now?

I'm fasting. You know, for Lent.

In the past, I've given up—sacrificed—many things during Lent, from pop to red meat. In their place is a refocus on Jesus and what His life, death and resurrection mean. This year I'm doing something a little different. This year, I'm giving up fear. My own fear of failure.

Part of my problem has always been that I'm a perfectionist. I want to do everything 100 percent right on the first attempt. (Wow, that seems crazy after reading that back...) This has been debilitating, actually. Many times, I will stop myself from even starting something new, something challenging, if I don't think I can do it without error. (It's getting crazier...) I keep my eyes on my own strength. My own talents. My own inabilities. And I get stuck. At those times, gone is the voice that reminds me that I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. (Yeah, I'm a mess!)

So, this season, that fear is out the door. I'm turning to God and giving it up. I'm listening to my Lord and moving forward. Facing my fear of failure might have me trying things, tripping and falling on my face. But I'm going to go. If He's calling me, I'm going to go.

Follow me on this journey. I'm sure there are going to be pitfalls. Laugh along with me as they happen. However, I'm sure there are going to be some pretty exciting mountaintops as well. #fearfast

Preview Service Eve And All That Is Racing Through My Mind

So, what is on a church planter's mind 12 hours before their first preview service...? Honestly, not a whole lot!

Wait, wait. Let me explain.

Crazy, direct, perfectionist, Type-A personality me ALWAYS has what feels like a bagillion things on my mind. Tonight, thanks to the peace of the Holy Spirit, an efficient and passionate God-made Launch Team, an anointed husband and the prayers of hundreds of friends around the world, I'm practically worry-free!

Why "practically," you ask? Well, the things I'm "worrying" about (and I use that term loosely), are ridiculous things, really. What if we run out of shirts? What if our preschool area isn't big enough? What if our snacks and coffee are devoured 20 minutes before service starts?

Seriously, Kat?

Yes. "What if?"

When planning for our first preview service (goodness, this isn't even our official LAUNCH!), we were optimistic. We thought, if we have 100 people at our very first service, that would just be absolutely amazing. And it would be! 50 people would be phenomenal! But God is reminding us yet again that what He has planned for those who love Him is greater than anything we can imagine! So tomorrow, "what if" we run out of food? Or free t-shirts? Or space? What if...more than we dreamed show up?


Well...that would be a very blessed problem to have! And it DEFNITELY would not be because of anything we have done. No, it is all, ALL His doing.

...and I'm humbled that He would include me in this party, even if it's just a party of 4.

And with that, I'm heading to bed before 10:00 PM on the eve of Restoration Community Church's first preview service. Crazy!

When Your "Nice Date Night Car" Is a Minivan

Derek and I got to experience something we don't normally have the opportunity to...date night!

Thanks to one of our second families, the Clarks, we had an entire evening to ourselves as the kiddos had their first non-family sleepover. And boy was it nice!

It started with me coming home, after dropping off the kiddos, to a beautiful $4.99 bouquet of flowers. Yeah. You read that right. Derek knows the discounted Kroger bouquets are appreciated much more than something more superfluous by this frugal gal.

We went to a new-to-us restaurant, The Red Pony, and enjoyed every savory bite of our two hour meal as we chatted away. (No toddler talk, people! I didn't have to ask anyone if they had to go potty. I didn't have to bribe my dinner partner to finish his delicious roasted beets or melt-in-your-mouth blue cheese and sweet corn risotto. And I didn't have to wipe anyone's fingers or face with a baby wipe when we were all through!)

But before all that, as we were getting ready to leave our (very quiet) house, I looked at Derek and asked him, hopeful of his answer, "What car are we taking?"

He looked at me. Smiled. Chuckled.

"The van, of course."

Relief.

We hopped in and were off, like two giggly teenagers on a first date. And it hit me... my how life has changed...

Instead of hoping my date picks me up in something shiny and fast, I'm thrilled we're riding in the Swagger Wagon. Instead of choosing between a Dooney & Burke or Louis Vuitton, I'm lessening the load of my purse by taking out unneeded matchbox cars and crayons.

As our lives change, so do our concepts of contentment.

There is very little I need to be happy. My God. My family. My friends. The rest is just...stuff. And what's the value of all our stuff, really?

Not much, says this frugal gal.

(Well...except baby wipes. Those things are worth their weight in gold when you have two toddlers 13-months apart!)

A Type A's 4-Letter Word

Get on the computer and do marketing contract work. Water the garden. Organize the playroom. Take the kids to the pool. Work on my "tough calling" project. Organize the playroom. Read more on church planting. Help D work on vision-casting. Organize the playroom. Do some writing. Organize the playroom. Organize the playroom.

Sometimes life can be a long list of to-do items. Even the playful things become actions to check off a list. Fellow high-strung Type As will know what I'm taking about. More qualitative evidence in support of the research that shows we are more likely to have a coronary episode.

Yet we continue on this pace until life gives us an ugly slap in the face, leaving us with no choice but to slow down.

Unless...

Unless we make a conscious effort to make R-E-S-T a requirement.

For some of us, we may have to physically write it down in our day planners. "Do Nothing Today." "Take a Break." "Just Hang Out with the Kiddos."

Other times, we'll notice that the crazy pace we have become used to is slowly catching up to our over-stimulated children. We take a rest for their good.

Other times our awesome spouses will make the suggestion. For our own good.

Either way, we have to face our 4-letter word. Put off work for another day. Web sites can be updated later. Research can be done tomorrow. Playdates can be rescheduled.

Clear your schedule. Go with the flow. Stop to enjoy the sunshine, your kids laughter, the Word of God, a hot cup of coffee.

It'll be better if we make rest a requiement, before life gives us no other option.

I'm NOT Praying For Moms Today

Nope. They aren't on my prayer radar. Not today.

Sure, they're (we're!) pretty awesome and all... We give baths, wipe snotty noses (and other areas I won't mention), kiss boo-boos, pick up toys, pick up toys and pick up toys. But today my heart is focused on a different group of women. The waiting-moms-to-be.

I was there once. I felt the emptiness, the void, that seemed to be roped around my heart on Mother's Days--any day for that matter... I felt the helplessness that comes when you yearn for something so greatly, but know no amount of will or action of your own could make it so. I felt the isolation from friends who just "didn't know what to say," so said nothing at all. I felt hopeless. I felt frustrated. I felt broken.

I waited what seemed like ages until we finally had our children in our arms. I thank God so often that what seemed like an eternity, was only just over 3 years. Looking back, and knowing what I know now, we had it easy.

Once we accepted God's call for us to adopt, the weight was lifted. Actually, it evaporated. My husband and I now hope that it is God's will for us never to have biological children, but to adopt again. But there are so many of my dear friends who are still in this cycle of frustration, helplessness and pain. There are so many waiting to hold their children in their arms, however they come to be--be it through adoption or birth.

To them, and to the rest, you are not alone.

There are many who are praying for you on this particular day. There are many of us who think about how shout-outs on the radio, cheesey Sunday afternoon movies and Mother's Day sermons affect you today... So many of us love you and support you, even if we've never met.

We pray for you. We pray for your children to be. We pray for the preparation He is doing in you to be AMAZING mothers. Mothers whose compassion is unparalleled because of the hard journey you are now on.

God has great plans for you. There is no doubt. And as you wait to see these plans come to life, we will be there holding your hand, waiting for test results, waiting for a referral, waiting to hear His will for your family, and on our knees in prayer for you.

And I am convinced and sure of this very thing, that He Who began a good work in you will continue until the day of Jesus Christ developing and perfecting and bringing it to full completion in you. Philippians 1:6

Happy Birth Mother's Day!

I recently tip-toed into the world of Twitter. I can't say it's been life-changing, but being able to connect with people with whom I share common interests and goals has been very motivating for me. God has planted some faith-testing seeds in the last few months--I hope to share more soon!--and communicating with these people whom I would otherwise not be able to has ignited in me a more ravenous fervor to keep moving forward!

Adoption is definitely one of the trending topics I've been following. A fellow adoptive mom reminded me that today is Birth Mother's Day. A reverent and important day for us, to be sure. I think about and pray for B and C's birth mother often. Sometimes questions pop in my head... "Does she think of them?" "Is she still in Russia?" But mostly I pray. I pray that God soothes her heart. I pray she is safe. I pray prayers of thanksgiving for the courageous decisions that she made.

I have no idea if she still pains over giving up these two amazing children. We may never know. But we will never forget her. She gave not only my husband and me the most amazing gift anyone could ever give, she did the same for her children--an unconditional, loving forever family.

Our family story was birthed from loss. The loss felt by a birth mother after leaving her two children in a Russian hospital. The loss felt by helpless newborns over not being nurtured by a mother. But from that loss came a miraculous, redemptive blessing. The blessing of adoption.

Funny how, in hindsight, so many blessings come from past loss and pain. God never makes mistakes. We do. But God is there, offering His sustaining grace until we are ready to accept the blessings He has in store for us.

To B and C's birth mother - we can never thank you enough. Though we may never know the specific why's and how's of your decision to leave your children, I can only assume that it was a very courageous and honorable decision. Proverbs 31:29 says, "There are many noble women in the world, but you surpass them all."

We've Come a Long Way, Baby!

It was a year and a week ago that we landed at the cold, concrete-walled St. Petersburg airport. Walking through clouds of cigarette smoke while our tummies were in knots over simply knowing we were finally in the same city as our children, we knew we were in for the experience of our lives. And boy, were we!

After going through immigration one by one and picking up our bags, we made our way out the gate and into the crowded airport foyer to look for our driver. Andrei! Andrei? Andrei....? It turned out he was given the wrong flight information from our agency and wasn't expecting to pick us up for another hour. Needless to say, our first 45 minutes on Russia soil were a little nerve-wracking!

But! We had our babies to look forward to. We settled in to our hotel (THE best hotel in the world, I will now proclaim, thanks to their phenomenal service) took a look out the windows and took it all in.

(Notice D's lack of facial hair!)

We were so anxious to get to sleep, knowing the next day we would finally be able to hold our babies. Finally be able to tell them that they are so loved. Finally be able to have our family together for the very first time. We opened up our laptop and took a look at the pictures of our kiddos which we had found via Russia's online orphan database.

We've never shared these photos outside of our family, so this is a first. These are the earliest photos we will ever have of our babies:

Alim (Bennett) pictured in his orphanage, no more than 15 months old

Nargiza (Celia) pictures in her orphanage, no more than 3 months old

Beautiful even back then, weren't they? Gosh, we're so blessed to be their Mama and Papa!

My New Favorite Thing

Since we've been home, it seems like I have a new favorite thing every few days—most of which have to do with my two adorable kiddos.



Smiles,

Hugs,

kisses,

funny faces, 

giggles,

snorts,

giggling snorts...

But my favorite as of late...? Bennett making Celia laugh. I've seen people make Celia giggle, and even I can get a good hearty laugh every once in a while, but NO ONE makes Celia belly-laugh like Bennett. No one. Sometimes all it takes is B looking at his sister with joy in his eyes from his car seat. Sometimes it's a cat and mouse game. Sometimes it's him peering over his crib playing peek-a-boo with his sister across the room. (Thank you Sloane for our video monitors!) Whatever it is, I can't even begin to explain what this sweet connection means to me. My late brother was my closest friend and I shared with him a relationship unlike any I've ever had. It literally brings tears to my eyes seeing that same connection between Bennett and Celia—brother and sister brought together just several months ago.

Beep... Beep.... Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

That's the sound of my pitiful blog flatlining. It's been two months and I've failed to check in. I'm sorry friends. I have excuses up the whazoo, but the truth is I've just been putting it off.

At first, it was because I felt God calling me to resign from my office job and I wasn't ready to share that information with the world wide web until it became official in March. I can actually say it's been THE best decision I've made as a mother. Not only do I get to spend all my time loving on these two babies who are so new to the concept of family love, but I get to give the best of me to my family. No longer am I drained from a day of stressors and other things, coming home with little left of me. I now allow myself to be uplifted by people and situations around me and I'm revelling in it!

Once my resignation date came into effect, I kept telling myself, "Tomorrow. I'll get to the blog tomorrow..." A week or so of that, and I just didn't even know where to begin anymore.

The other day, as I was in the shower--one of the few times of day I get to take a minute and think in silence--I realized that I was not only letting myself (and possibly my readers) down by not writing, I'm letting my kids down. After we returned from Russia, I used my blog as a journal, chronicling family firsts and other memorable moments. I haven't done that in several weeks now. I owe it to my children to keep track of these special first few months. They have no written record of the first year, two years of their life. I want to make up for that.

So... I truly want to get back into the habit of blogging. I hope you'll see more of me...

Happy One Month Home!

Today marks one month since we arrived home as a family a four!

Thinking back to who I was and how I felt coming off the plane that night... it seems like a world away. I was so tired. (Traveling for 26+ hours will do that to you.) I was so hungry. (Loosing eight pounds while in a foreign country for a week and a half will do that to you.) I was so scared and insecure in my abilities. (Jumping in to parenthood head first by adopting a one- and two-year-old will do that to you.) I was so totally excited! (The occurrence of something you've been waiting for for years will do that to you!)

Not that I have it all together now. Oh my goodness! Not at all. But parenthood is becoming more natural. I don't question every little thing I do or say and how it might impact our children's cognitive, emotional, physical and confidence development. Sure, I think about those things day in and day out. But the secure feeling of KNOWING that I am their mother—and mothers truly do know best—helps give me the fortitude to trust my instincts and keeping going as I have tried to do.

We received a pleasant surprise in the mail today. The US Department of Homeland Security sent us Bennett's and Celia's official Certificates of Citizenship! (And a little "Uncle Liberty" coloring book for Bennett!)

What better day to receive this than our one-month anniversary home?! My, how their faces have changed in the short time they've been home.

Catching Up

My! Motherhood is work! hee hee... It may not be as stressful as my office job, but it definitely is tiring! I've come to really value "down-time" more than ever after spending each day running around playing with two adorable kiddos. Because of that, I haven't spent much time on the computer. But I miss blogging. I miss writing. So here I am!

We've started Bennett on his medication and it seemed to be going okay... We knew, after reading every word on the information sheet that accompanied the huge bottle of orange-flavored liquid, that it might upset our poor boy's stomach. Well, unfortunately it has. He has been tooting/boo-bah-ing/blowing buttons/insert-your-cute-flatulence-term throughout the last few days. His dirty diaper changes are... well... they're not pretty and often are cause for a wardrobe change. Since he really doesn't enjoy being dirty (unless he's intentionally choosing to play in the dirt or eat with his hands), he makes the most pitiful face once he's... well... done. From someone who used to suffer from stomach aches every day of my life, I just hate this for him. Especially since he has 8.5 more months of it. This morning was the first morning he really faught taking the 12.5 ml. I wonder what the next few days will bring.

After hearing me rave about the Impressionist exhibit at The Frist in Nashville, Derek decided he had to go see it. I had the fortunate opportunity to see many of the pieces at The Louvre, but enjoyed them when I visited our local museum back in October as well. So we decided to take the kids and all go, hoping for the best but expecting some difficulties. Believe it or not, we all had a wonderful and completely tear-free time! Baba (my mother is "babushka" to our kiddos, "baba" for short; and my father is "dyeh-dushka" or "dedu" for short) and I walked the kids in their double stroller through the exhibit while Derek took his time with the audio tour. Of course, we were not allowed to take photos in the exhibit, but did snap one as we entered the Visual Arts Center:

After Baba, the kids and I made our way through, we ventured upstairs to the children area where we played at some hands-on stations. Later, Derek joined us and helped Bennett bring out his creative side by making his own lithograph and sketching on an art easel.

I really think the attachment that has been forming among the four of us is strengthening more and more each day. On Friday, Bennett walked up to me with one arm in his favorite jacket (my late brother's army-green jacket that he wore when he was Bennett's age), smiled, said "buh-bye" and leaned over and gave me the sweetest kiss on the lips. I don't know how I held it together. Sure, Bennett had given me kisses before. But they were more playful than truly sentimental and I probably asked for most of them. I can't explain the feelings that went through me. Most likely, that was the first time he ever smooched anyone out of love and by his own accord. Bennett is such a sweetheart. He truly is such a good boy. We are so lucky.

The bond between Celia and Derek is growing as well—especially now, after D decided to grow a goatee. You see, for whatever reason, C has a "thing" for facial hair. She seemed to love the mustached pediatrician who saw her in Moscow and was entranced with the random, bearded Ukrainian gentleman seated next to us on the plane. Never having had facial hair in his life but desperately wanting to make a closer connection with his daughter, Derek took the plunge. Personally, I think it looks good on him! Sorry, no photos at this time. But I'm sure you'll catch it in pictures in the future.

We're Still Here!

Yes, we're still alive! With my husband going back to work full-time, I'm still trying to get my legs about me when it comes to being a full-time mom (at least for the next several weeks). Stay tuned friends! I plan to post a true update in the next day or two, which will include heartwarming firsts, trying tantrums, cultural excursions and more!

A Scar Explained and a "Diagnosis" Made

Wednesday was B and C's first trip to the pediatrician—and Mama and Papa's (as parents) too! Many international adoptive parents choose to take their children to an "International Adoption Pediatrician" and a specialized international adoption clinic. There is one in Nashville. I'm sure it's absolutely wonderful. However, we didn't feel the need to go that route. We knew once we met our kiddos that they are—thank the Lord—healthy and not too far behind physically or developmentally. So, after receiving a recommendation from another adoptive family and doing our own research, we decided to go with Dr. S and are so glad we did! Dr. S has adopted internationally, so it's wonderful to have someone that canshed some insight.

He was absolutely wonderful with our babies! We weren't expecting things to go so smoothly, especially after our experience with Dr. Boris in Moscow. (Maybe it was the moustache, maybe it was the lazy eye, but there was something about the Russian doctor that Bennett didn't like. Celia, on the other hand, loved the guy!) Taking into consideration the fear and insecurities B and C were most likely feeling anyways and the fact that they each received four shots, one TB skin test and three blood draws, the kids were great! Less than 60 seconds after her shots, Celia was smiling and making silly faces at the nurse. The sweet nurse later said she has "never" seen such a happy baby—and she's obviously seen a lot. Bennett, true to form, was all strength. He held it together so well and when he felt he was in a safe place again—back in his Papa's arms—he let out the cries.

We noticed once we brought Bennett home that he has a scar on his upper left arm. I greived a bit for my little guy over thinking we'd never know how he got it. Derek was ready to help him come up with fun and exciting stories to ease the loss. Much to our surprise, our pediatrician educated us on what most likely it was from. Bennett received a BCG vaccine when in Russia. It's common for a child his age raised in a Russian orphanage to have this shot so as to prevent childhood tuberculosis. Dr. S indicated that his scar is most likely from where he was injected with the vaccine. He warned us that there was a good chance that B's TB skin test would come back positive due to his receiving the vaccine. We were told to come back on Friday to have it checked out.

Dinner on Wednesday was amazing! I was looking forward to giving our kiddos soup, as we were told they had soup each day for lunch in their baby homes. Bennett devoured the vegetable and beef concoction. Celia didn't do as well, but the transition we have been trying to make from baby food has not been successful.

THANK YOU PAM AND CARTER!!!

Thursday's dinner was so wonderful that we scarffed it down before taking any pictures. Sorry Nate and Kelly! Your food was just too good!

On Friday we went back to the pediatrician's office to get B's TB skin test looked at. We knew after monitoring it for the last several hours that it didn't look good... After two physicians took a look at it, it was decided. B did indeed have a postive reation.

*sigh*

Even though he most likely has never come into contact with someone with TB and the result was simply caused by his earlier vaccine, he will have to be treated. We took hom to Vanderbilt's Children's Hospital for a chest X-ray to completely eliminate the chance of him having an active case of tuberculosis. Thank God everything came back great and he doesn't have it. Nevertheless, the CDC requires that people in our situation go through the proper treatment anyways. So... poor Bennett—after everything he's already had to go through—will be taking the TB treatment every day for nine months. However, we are so thankful that our babies are perfectly healthy other than this. Bennett is in the 50th percentile or above on all physical charts. Celia is also above average except for weight, but I'm sure that will improve the longer we are home. We are so blessed!

That night we were treated to another fantastic meal—one which I had before and requested from this amazing cook. Chicken and dressing and homemade mac and cheese! Mmmmmm!!

THANK YOU JEANNIE!!!

Fun in the Snow ...and on TV?!

I feel I may never catch up on blogging. I love writing so much, but find it difficult to make the time to put my thoughts and experiences down. Bear with me over the next few weeks as we continue to adjust and grow as a family of four.

Everyone asks me, "How is it going?" to which I normally reply, "Pretty good... We definitely have our hands full!" Why do I do that? In reality, things are WONDERFUL. Truly amazing. I'd say we have the family we've always dreamed of, but all this is so much more than anything we could have imagined. I think there is just something in some of us that feels we should down-play the really good things that are happening in our life.

Is it easy? No. Is it perfect and frustration-free 100 percent of the time? Of course not. But it's been the best few weeks of my life. I know that. We definitely have tantrums (some that probably have to do with their grieving process, some that are just regular toddler tantrums). We struggle off and on with our confidence in the attachment we are trying to cultivate with the kiddos. But really, things are going great.

Monday brought snow. Quite a lot for Tennessee, but a measly amount compared to Russia. Bennett didn't seem too impressed. "Six inches of snow? I'm used to six feet!" The five of us (Lexie included, sweet Bella is still at my parents' house) ventured out into the snow.

Being completely unprepared for a snow day with small children, we improvised with a plastic bin we had in the garage.

If you look closely, you'll notice I put Celia's boots on the wrong foot. Way to go, Mama!

This about sums up B and C's relationship as it stands right now:

Bennett: Why is sister sitting on me?

Celia: Weeeeee!

Bennett: Seriously, can she get off now?

A dear friend braved the weather and the roads and brought us yummy chicken and dumplings.

THANK YOU LAURIE AND SCOTT!!!

On Tuesday we had some more excitement--the kind Celia loves. News Channel 5 stopped by. I guess they read the article in our local paper about our homecoming and wanted to interview us. Showered but not "made-up," I reluctantly went along with Derek's invitation to have them come in. I just hope people give some slack to new parents when it comes to how they themselves and their house looks... Later that night, we watched ourselves on TV! Bennett loved seeing him and Papa on our big screen!

We enjoyed a delicious dinner that night, thanks to the Nichols.

Unfortunately, the green bean didn't make it any closer to C's mouth...

B was definitely a fan, though!

Coming up in the blog: the kiddos' first pediatrician visit and B's unfortunate "diagnosis."

Papa Goes Back to Work

Things are coming along! Each day, I feel that the four of us are learning more and more what it means to be a family. Though I've loved them immeasurably for for so long, my love for our two babies continues to mature and expand.

Derek went to work on Sunday, attending two morning services, while I stayed home with the kiddos. Since coming home from Russia, Bennett has been very attached to Derek. His baby home director and the judge both talked about how he yearned for a father-figure. Chances are Bennett never had a male in his life in any capacity before Derek. So once B got a taste of what it's like to have a Papa, he's been hooked and Mama just doesn't cut it. I understand that. It's difficult, but I understand. So when Derek left that morning, I was praying that God would comfort my little son and help him to feel safe with me.

Other than when Derek said "bye-bye," there were no melt downs. Parting from us in any way can be rather frightening to them. Understandably so, considering their past and how abandonment had played too much a part in their lives. But once I comforted him (of which Celia wasn't a fan), the three of us got along real well and had a great time playing!

We were able to make our way from the playroom to the kitchen for "snack-time," an English phrase Bennett is completely familiar with now. (I say the magic words once and he gets up from whatever he is doing and makes his way to the playroom gate and waits for me to walk him to the kitchen for a yummy bite to eat.) After a healthy snack of raisins (just for B) and Greek yogurt, we headed back to the playroom and turned on the tiny TV. While I'm not a huge fan of having the kids watch television, I find it helps during Celia's morning nap when I'm alone with the both of them. On our tiny gray couch, Bennett lays on my right side watching "Duck Tales" with his right thumb in his mouth and this left thumb tucked into the waistband of his pants while Celia makes herself comfy on my left side and snoozes for a half hour or so. I have to admit, I was quite proud of myself when I noticed not only was my princess asleep

but so was my prince!

Once they awoke, we read a bit from "B is for Bear," Bennett's new favorite daytime book. (They have other favorites for bedtime) By the third time through, I started once again with "A is for apple." Bennett surprised me this time by saying "apple!" Add that to his list of English words: Mama, Papa, and bye-bye. I love witnessing these milestones--small as they may be.

When Mama needed a potty break, I was reminded again of their fear of being left. The bathroom door is just inches from the playroom and still both children went into hysterics. I have learned the differences in some of their cries. I can tell their "scared" cries from their "fake" cries. Unfortunately, anytime I leave, their deep-rooted scared cries begin. I wish they didn't experience all that they had to make them so uncertain and fearful. However, we are here now to mend those scars as best we can.

After Papa got home, we had lunch and played. Both of the kids love legos. Well, Celia loves anything Bennett loves. Recently, it just so happens to be legos. They'd probably enjoy them even more if Papa learned to share...

We were blessed with friends who brought us dinner. Baked spaghetti, garlic bread and brownies. Yum!

THANK YOU JERILYNN AND EMILY!!! It was so good to also see Ashley and Amber!

Emily was also sweet enough to bring each of our kiddos a Build-a-Bear. Bennett and Celia love their stuffed animals!