"I'm Tree!"

It's the one night a year that you are guaranteed a new blog post.  Another year has flown by and Riley Lou is officially 3 years old.  Although, I'll admit that this year did not come as such a shock since she's been sassing me like a 3 year old for months now it seems.

Here are just a few reasons from this past year why I'm so grateful to be your maaaww-ma (that's how you say it these days...And just like last year, I'll take the blame for the drawl).

Girl loves her some greasy catfish.

Picked up veggies from the farmers market with Daddy.

Still loves to read.  And put stuff on her head.

Finally worked up the courage to go swimming and LOVES it.

Also worked up the courage to get in one of these things, whatever they're called.

Oh, and did I say still loves to read.  And sticks her tongue out while she's concentrating just like Daddy.

Pouts and whines like an ole pro now.  Also knows exactly how to put herself in time out.

Was totally ok that this is the only outfit mama made her this year.  (See previous posts about adoption...)

Came to mama's aaawwwffice on a hurricane day and left me all kinds of secret messages in legal pads.  Found this one just the other day.

Thought this blue straw was the best part of our adoption journey.

Told everyone she saw for months and months that she had a sister half way around the world.

And was over the moon excited when that sister came home for good.

Is perfectly content to eat snacks and supervise while Sofia gets poked and prodded.

Enjoys reading even more with a buddy.

Cracks me up every day.

Saw snow for the first time since she was 3 days old and, after about 20 minutes, told me her thumbs were cold.  Congrats girlie, you are my child.

Gets a devilish twinkle in her eye when she's plotting to swing Sofia into the sky.

Gives Sofia hugs and kisses until she cries, then asks me what's wrong with Sofia.

We just got home from a concert at church where they showed a video about our adoption.  They asked us why we started the process and the short answer was love.  You and Sofia teach us how to love better and fully, patiently and with all we've got.  Until next year, love you little big girl.

This Christmas

is different, there's no doubt about it.  We spent most of November in a far away Eastern European country.  (And if you only keep up with us on this blog, SURPRISE, we're home!) It was a wild trip and I promise a post that details the whole dang thing.  It might be a few years before I get to it, but it's coming.  I want to remember it because it changed us.  We came home saying things like, "I will never complain about anything EVER again."  Okay, so we all know we weren't true to our word on that one.  Our adoption actually went as smooth as an international adoption can.  We came home with our girl and another brave family has spent an extra month fighting for their little one.  All we could do was join with them in powerful prayer because we knew how hard it is to be there and not here.  (Praise God they are coming home in just a few days!)

Adoption is challenging in the ways we expected -- attachment, growth of our family, grief, abandonment, malnutrition, and the list goes on an on.  But I've been surprised how hard it has been in ways unexpected.  It almost feels like culture shock.  Granted, we came home to the busiest time of year, but still.  Wow.

We spent weeks on a smelly orphanage rug trying to play with a little girl who did not know what playing was.  Toys were a mystery; touch was off limits at first, bearable at best.

We came home to Christmas trees and Santa and presents and lights and noise.  Don't get me wrong, I love all this stuff.  But I'm different.  I have this anger and fire that I didn't have before.  All along, we have politely listened while people told us how lucky our daughter is to have us.  And then we tried as best we could to convey that this adoption was more about our own transformation.  Let's face it, she's a doll and another family would have found their way to her if we hadn't have been there first.  But I know that God had to use this adoption for us to become who he wants us to be.

Change is hard.  Just ask our poor girl who winces when the wind blows or trembles at the thought of walking in the bathroom because THE BATHTUB is in there!!

And I sit here tonight, on Christmas Eve, with no gifts for my sweet girls from Santa or from us for that matter.  I'm a little saddened by the innocence and ignorance that we've lost.  I wonder if I'll ever be able to hear the word orphan and not feel like I've been punched in the gut.  I wonder if I'll be able to continue my politeness when people just can't understand what's important to my family now, how so much that used to matter doesn't anymore.

We take ourselves a little less seriously, we move A LOT slower, and we hurt a little more than we used to.  But I can tell you that the scariest, most heartbreaking moments of this journey were the times when I felt like I was exactly where I should be.  It was then that I could feel the loving arms of Jesus holding me up -- in the courtroom, going back to the orphanage when I didn't think I could listen to the babies any more, in the apartment with a terrified girl on a hunger strike in a country that would not admit her to its hospitals because of her extra chromosome, when that plane landed in Charlotte and the immigration official welcomed Sofia to the United States.

I'm excited for what's ahead.  Instead of frantically shopping for gifts I've been frantically checking my phone to see the first picture of little boy who is an orphan no more and will soon be home with his family.  My life is different, but it is way better.  And my biggest hope is that it's contagious.

So Merry Christmas to you all.  May it change you forever.

"Don't worry, Sofia, they only do this to us once a year..."

How's this for an update?

We are going to meet our baby girl!  That's right.  I haven't updated in months because I knew y'all were just waiting for one post and one post only.  And this is it!  We got our travel date this morning and we head out in just a few weeks.  We will meet her.  And hold her.  And kiss her.  And tell her that we have finally made it.  And that God is so good.  To say that we are excited just doesn't explain the feeling.  These might, ok will, be the hardest weeks of the entire (almost 2 year) wait.  So we will focus on life as we know it for just a little while longer until it changes forever.  I have no words.  Literally, which makes blogging difficult.

And if my horrible job at updating this blog has caused you to forget what Riley Lou looks like, here she is.

As a burrito...

at Itsy Bitsy Yoga class!  (Go "like" the facebook page here to find out more)

And as a ham...

Q: What did you draw, Riley? A: A drawing!

There's no denying the fact that our adoption journey looks a bit like one of Riley's "drawings."  It's all over the place.  (But beautiful!)  When we said yes, we are seriously going to do this, an entire universe opened that had to that point been unknown to us.  We had meetings with a social worker.  We discussed with a complete stranger topics like discipline and how we resolve conflict.  It's funny to remember how far discipline was from our minds since, at the time, we were the proud owners of a one-year old.

Then came the big question: what country?  The only answer we could articulate confidently was that we wanted to meet a need.  Our first desire was to adopt from local foster care.  When we learned that the youngest child was 11, we knew that was not an option for us at this time (although, that route is by no means off the table).

We felt strongly about seeking an adoption in Uganda.  Our eyes had been opened to the amazing work that Sixty Feet was doing to help children in prison (yes, you read that right).  It was a good plan, but something just wasn't quite right.

I read a post by another mom adopting in Uganda about a need for adoptive parents in the US.  This was it.  I could not believe there were birth mothers in the US who had trouble finding adoptive parents.  We dove in head first.  We finished our home study, we made our profile, and we applied to many agencies who would present us when they had a birth mom in need of families.

For every "situation," we received a phone call telling us about the birth mother, her family, her history, and her desires for her unborn child.  Some calls tore your heart out.  Some told of a life with little hope.  Some created instant respect for women you would never know or meet.  And some just made you angry.  In yoga, there is a practice of santosha where we try our darndest to accept things for what they are.  Yeah, there wasn't a whole lot of that going on during this time...

We had hope each time that this could be our child, but there was that nagging feeling behind it all that we still weren't right.  Something was off.  I went to an adoption conference in Atlanta and I remember telling Ben that something about our adoption was going to change after that weekend.  I literally had NO idea what that something would be.  I just kept saying something will change.  And he kept giving me that "I don't understand you, but I still love you" look.

The first night of the conference I could not believe what I had signed up for.  I'm not the type of person who usually enjoys sitting down at a table with complete strangers and spilling my most deepest desires for my family.  But I did my best.  Most of the conference soon became a blur except for one thing.  At some point, I can't even tell you who said it, I heard the speaker say that in the adoption world (and in other areas of life) it is easy to follow the call instead of the one who called you.  Boom.  That was it.  That was the change.  We had said Yes! Yes! Yes! to adoption and took off without looking back.  It was our mission.  It was all anyone ever asked me about.  We made so many decisions without pause, without direction.

So our prayer shifted.  We began to ask God for direction in every. single. detail.  That is unbelievably hard for me to do.  I act just like my two year old who wants to make every decision herself.  And mine, just like hers, are most certainly not all wise decisions.

It was in that surrender that we were introduced to Down syndrome.  We presented to two birth mothers expecting babies with Downs.  For various reasons, we were not the parents for those babies.  But we had a new desire.  And just in the middle of our prayers for direction in the details, up popped Reece's Rainbow.  It was the answer to our prayer from the very beginning.  We desperately longed to find a child who was waiting on us, waiting for a mom and dad.  And where all our previous decisions had felt like they were missing something, with all our hearts in the purest place of gratitude, we sent an email saying we had found her.  Our precious daughter.  Our knowledge of her consists of two pictures and two sentences.  And she is amazing.  Worth every doubt, every frustration, every moment of "what the heck have we gotten ourselves into?!"

http://reecesrainbow.org/38031/sponsorcloyd

This journey is new.  We now embark on the daunting task of updating our home study and compiling a dossier (something we did not have the pleasure of doing for a domestic adoption).  To say that we cannot wait to hold her is the understatement of the century.  We will soon whisper in those sweet little ears that every twist and turn was leading us to her.  Oh how blessed we are.

The Classady Inn

You'd think my lack of blog updates would have something to do with the toddler, or the job, or the adoption, or my desire to sneak in a TV show every once in awhile...  But lately my excuse is our revolving door of house guests.  We are not the entertaining type.  Did I mention we have a toddler?  And three overly friendly/intrusive dogs.  Despite our current environment, we found ourselves hosting two students from Bridgewater England.

They are pictured here with my girl Riley who has just now decided to become an introvert like her Mama.  This is her new "I really want to smile, but I'm not quite sure who you are, so I'm gonna make this weird frowny look so there is no question that I do not trust you" face...

Our guests were super sweet.  They kept saying our house, our food, us, etc.  were "soooo American."  Can't argue with that one.  We learned that yards are called gardens (read "gahh-dins"), twinkies are only available in the US, we fry too much of our food, and we eat too much of it.  And they think Harry would make a much better King than Charles or William.

After our friends from across the pond set off for home, it was time for grandparent invasion, aka Easter. We had a great time despite our blind dog's attempt to ruin dinner.  He ran full speed into our grill full of hot charcoal.  He was fine.  Our dinner's fate hung in the balance for a moment, but was thankfully saved.  We do have Riley's constant reminder every time she sees the grill that "Doc ran over the grill!"  And a patch of burnt grass in our gahh-din.

My parents were lucky enough to celebrate their 34th anniversary on Easter Sunday.  I know they've had a great 34 years, but it's really hard to imagine them any happier than they were in this moment.  The little ham in front of them may have something to do with that...

Speaking of hams, Riley put on quite the show during her first Easter egg hunt.  She was all business.  I think she's ready to take on the neighborhood kids next year.

Oh, I am already dreading the day when she wants to pick out her own clothes...

We had a great weekend celebrating God's most precious gift to us.  In this crazy, hectic life we find ourselves in, He is center.  We are so blessed.  And we have decided not to become innkeepers.

One, two...buckle my shoe

It's that time again.  The day to ask me: "She can't be two already?!"  But it's true.  My sweet little baby is now a talking, walking, singing, dancing, tantrum-throwing, terrible two year old.  It's amazing how I thought we were overwhelmed at this time last year.  But, oh, how much we didn't know.  (And if you have a three year old, please don't tell me what I'm in for next.  I've realized that I'm an ignorance-is-bliss kind of parent.)

So, in honor of her birthday, here are some facts about Riley:

Her favorite thing to do at the park is swing.  Although, sliding with Daddy and Ella is a close second.  (Yes, our pug goes down the slide.)

She's the world's best (or at least my best) model.

She's an even more impressive leg model.

Nothing can stop the mess of chocolate pudding, even the most secure of harnesses.  If no chocolate pudding is available, she will settle for "manilla."  If no manilla or chocolate pudding is available, she will settle for nothing and promptly throw a fit.

She thinks that all striped shirts are bumble bees!  Might have something to do with this outfit...

 She has a left dimple just like Daddy.

And she knows it.

She may or may not have ingested a good portion of this stick-on window Santa.  Merry Christmas.

She is talented at most instruments, but her real skill is on the "jangle bells."  (Yes, the southern twang is probably my fault.)

She loves all the dogs, but if pressed, she'd admit that Ella is her favorite.  Girls gotta stick together.  Don't tell Parker, he's the jealous type.

She's a bit of a copycat.

She's a cupcake hound.

Those long curly locks are all natural.

And she's everything and more than we ever could have imagined.  Tonight, she is officially a two year old.  We thank God for the opportunity to know your little heart and to watch you grow.  We will continue to do our very best to love you more than anyone else on this planet.  Happy Birthday Riley!

Cyber Monday Update

Hello blog, I'm the one who used to write witty stories about my life for all to read.  Then those stories started to move by so fast that I could no longer remember them much less use my skills to make them sound interesting.

We're still here.  I remember those days long ago when I could type away and the farthest Riley could get was into the next room and she could get no higher than ground level.  Boy do things change.  Cute, precious, innocent little ones...well...they turn into small crazy people.  They now have adult skills like climbing, opening drawers, opening cabinets, opening doors, opening boxes of cereal, etc.  Yet they lack the sense to know what to do next.  Important things like: how to get down, how to close a drawer or cabinet or door without slicing off fingers, and how it really isn't wise or efficient to throw the cereal all over the car, especially if your goal is to eat said cereal.

So blogging once again took a back seat to constant parental supervision.  Whew.

Now, an adoption update, which is probably the reason you're here (FN1).  We have completed all of our paperwork and are in the process of presenting our profile to birth mothers.  It's an emotionally heavy process as we wait to meet our newest family member.  But it has been a wonderful experience to pray for these mothers and to pray together as a family for each child.  We are excited to see what God has planned for us in the next few months.

And since it's Cyber Monday, I thought I would let y'all know about some ways that you could turn your Christmas shopping into a huge blessing for an adopting family.

We were able to snag some very limited solid red Ugandan Bead just in time for the holidays.  We only have a few, so please let me know soon if you would like some for your Christmas gifts.  (You can order these with the link on the left, just let me know in the comments that you would like the red beads; they are $20 to pick up or $22 to ship).

Click here to read more about the necklaces

Our friend Alison has a great blog about their adoption in Ethiopia.  She had the brilliant idea of compiling different fundraisers to help consoldate Christmas shopping.  Check it out here and find great gifts that support adoptions.  *Cassady Street is on the list!*

We are grateful to you, our friends and family, for joining us on our journey.  May God bless you through this Christmas season.

FN1.  And now for the real reason why you're here.  Here she is lookin' sweeter than the cookie I used to bribe her for the photo shoot...