Day 12: #AdamsActs Fail

Okay, so last night I couldn't get this vidglog to upload, probably because the internet was attempting to reject my hairstyle (think Weird Al/side ponytail/bedhead/haggard woman who just lost a pillowfight), but I finally got it up and running. You're welcome.

This is for all you ATATT fans out there. All Tom, All the Time.

Day 11: Loving on Lifesavers

Sometimes, you meet people that you like. And then that's it. But sometimes, you meet people that you adore and they make you a cutting board and then five years later you find yourself somehow inside the most sacred places of their lives and you stop and realize what a privilege it is to be there. Today was one of those times and Pap and Meenkin are those people. (Okay, they are actually Pat and Megan, but Jay doesn't know that and his way is so much cuter.)

I won't tell Pap and Meenkin's whole story, because it is not mine to tell... but the important bits are that they are amazing parents to two unbelievably adorable baby girls, Morgan and Zoey, who came into the world at 27 weeks, weighing little more than 2 pounds a piece. These little ladies came onto the scene with plenty of challenges ahead, but even more spirit, and they continue to blow me away with their progress. (And their cuteness.) Pap and Meenkin have advocated for their baby girls, they have spent 5 weeks of long days in the NICU making sure their daughters have the best possible care. They are fighting for their girls, and their girls are fighting too. And somehow, I got the honor of laying eyes on these precious little wonders today. And then I fell in love.

They are already smarter and more attractive than all the other babies. And the love was obviously mutual, I could tell that they think I am wildly hilarious and was pretty much their favorite visitor, including future visitors. So I guess I'm just generally their favorite person. It was all very flattering.

For Day 11, I was spoiled to be able to spend a whole day with Megan, laughing a lot, but mostly crying on our nailpolish and desserts. But after that, we went to the NICU to deliver some special thank you's that my kids made for the nursing staff who work around the clock to help Morgan and Zoey get bigger and stronger every day.

This isn't just a NICU thing, Pat insists on always wearing that mask. JK he has a cold.

In honor of Morgan and Zoey, here are some #AdamsActs that you could consider doing!

-make donations to your local Ronald McDonald House

-thank/encourage NICU nurses

-donate restaurant gift cards to families with a child in the hospital

-donate blood

-get vaccinated against pertussis to protect all newborns

-bring groceries or a meal 

-pray for Morgan and Zoey

We first met Pat and Megan through their own act of kindness toward us. They reached out to us, and they supported our adoption and our family, and their act of kindness is how our friendship first began. Tom refers to this as the "butterfly effect of kindness" (but he says it using his movie trailer voice-over voice.) It is how one act of kindness toward another can ripple out to make significant, life-altering waves. Sometimes it takes a few years to see the waves roll in, and sometimes we never get to see the fruit of our acts at all, but whether we get to see the outcome or not, we truly believe that God is using the ripple of each and every act of kindness to create waves... and sometimes, if you're really lucky, the waves will mean friendship with really special people and their little angel babies.

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

Psalm 139;13-16

Happy birthday Meenkin... you are a wonderful mommy!

Days 9 & 10: Baggage Ahead

Y'all are about to get all my stuff.

Ya know that really heavy baggage you don't really ever want people to know about? Yeah, that's the kind of stuff I mean.

When I went to bed last night with a thousand things racing through my head that needed to be done before the wedding this Friday, I prayed that I could keep these acts of kindness (and more importantly an attitude of kindness) in the forefront of my mind today. I really hate that feeling when you realize that you have gotten so wrapped up in what is urgent, that you have lost sight of what is important. So, I prayed for perspective and the ability to keep my eye on the goal: to glorify God with every thought, word and deed.

Then I woke up this morning. 

I wish I could start this story with "it was just one of those really rough days when..." but when you are raising a child who comes from some sort of trauma, basically every day is "just one of those really rough days when..."  I don't care what the "hard place" is that a child comes from, whether it be foster care, an alcohol saturated uterus, or just a really sensitive spirit struggling to cope in a harsh world, some kids are fighting through life more than others, and raising them is really, really hard.

Our beautiful, talented friends, Brandi and Danny Ebersole, have been an integral part in helping us tell our family's story by creating the video below. It was very hard for us to share at first, but we have come to the realization that shame and silence further isolate struggling families and nobody was going to benefit from our silence. You can see what I'm talking about here:

Rough stuff right? Well, when I went to bed last night, I prayed for God to be glorified through my personal agenda . When I woke up to His agenda it was not fun. My day was much less productive and much more painful than what I had planned for myself, and I spent a bit less time on the "urgent" things from my to-do list, and a little more time on the important things. 

Harper needed me. He needed me to walk him through his emotions, to name them and define them. It takes a lot of time to do that with him. All day long. And I'll be honest, I am really weary. 

And as frustrating as it was to see hours of my day just evaporate when I have such an extensive to-do list, I had to stop and recall my prayer the night before. I prayed that I would glorify the God who adopted us, who calls us His children, for no other reason than because he loves us and it pleases him to do so. How foolish to think that there was an act of kindness more important to complete than struggling through this hard place with my boy. 

For Day 9, we gave someone a washing machine. Long story.

Day 10, I spent time today encouraging a couple moms who are in the trenches with their boys with various special needs. I had a long conversation with a newish friend, I wrote a letter to a friend of a friend, and sent some encouraging words to other moms that I know could use it. Again I find myself wanting to qualify this with "I know it wasn't much, but..." but, nothing. Some moms get calls from their child's teacher daily to discuss the problem de jour. Some moms get pushed down the stairs when their child is angry. Some moms spend all day and night changing feeding tubes. Some moms have been hospitalized with depression and/or exhaustion. Some moms have to call the police to restrain their child during a rage. Some moms feel really, really alone.

So, it's a great kindness indeed to let someone know that they are not alone. To be reminded that the God who sees, and knows, and cares, is walking ahead of us, and beside us, and around us is truly a comfort on this road with a traumatized child. I cannot imagine a better picture of the gospel, than adoption. The fact that God chose us and made us his own, and he loves us and forgives us even as we abuse his grace. He is the ultimate Father and he has taken every harsh word, every fist shaken at him, every hurt and betrayal, and he has loved us anyway. It is my hope that we will remember this redeeming love and that, we too, will love those who are hurting, and forgive those who betray, and lay our lives down for our enemies and those who harm us... perhaps even though they are sometimes our children.  

Day 8: Feast of the Meats

During my childhood, my mother  told me a minimum of 3 million times that "a mother's job is to embarrass her child." Let's just say she did her job very well. I have to admit, though, that it was not nearly as bad for me as it was for my two older, more sensible sisters, Kristin and BethAnn. It was as if the two of them were simply born more mature and socially aware than my mom, and therefore had an innate understanding of how ridiculous her shenanigans were.

She would dance when nobody wanted her to. She would wear inappropriate earrings. (Yes, earrings can be inappropriate. Just ask her tiny Santas dangling from her ears at Christmastime - wearing nothing but strategically placed Santa hats.) She loved The Artist Formerly Known as Prince while he was still The Artist Known as Prince, and would belt out all his songs at volumes so loud she damaged her own hearing. And while the other moms were sending homemade cookies to camp, she was mailing us actual garbage.

Now that I am a mother, I can really appreciate all of those quirky little things about my mother. Oh, wait... no I can't. Those things are all still terribly embarrassing, Sandi. However, I do catch myself being a lot more like her than I had ever intended. Sure, I haven't actually mailed garbage to the children, yet... but it sounds like something I might consider.

I am that mom who comes to school for "Colonial Days"only to discover that none of the other volunteers remembered to dress like this:

What you see there on the bottom right corner? Embarrassment.

I am that mom who dresses up for Halloween. And I mean... I dress up.

And I make the whole family participate.

I know it's hard to tell, but behind those hand-bent wire rim glasses, and crooked Santa beards... the children are mortified. 

I am my mother. Hurricane Sandi the II.

Honestly, it's a miracle that any of them speak to me. But they do! They even seem to enjoy me most of the time! They ask me to stop dancing, they beg of me never to sing in public, and they roll their eyes when I arrive at their school in a wedding gown for some reason... but they also sort of secretly love it. 

I haven't ruined them, which is a good thing. They still tolerate me, and they have fully embraced #AdamsActs even though some of the things we do are outside their comfort zone. 

For Day #8, I want to share a few things that happened just today.

This came in the mail for my oldest daughter, Annalee:

The fitting part of being selected as a Kindness Crusader, is that she is being recognized for her kindness, but is also going to be perpetually embarrassed because part of this gig is wearing one of those yellow pinny/jersey things. Poor girl. At least I prepared her well for public humiliation.

This was sent to me by Marlie's teacher:

Harper came home from school and made his sisters' beds  because I forced him to  without being asked.

London (and keep in mind that she is five, and this is self-report data) made all the friends and told so many compliments. She is also full of ideas and suggestions for different #AdamsActs. They are usually very elaborate, but my personal favorite was what she called a "Feast of the Meats" where homeless children are welcome to come and watch Nana's TV while we prepare several meat options to enjoy.

And Jay actually wins Day 8 as he served the poor in the city of Rochester at a soup truck tonight with Grandma. And by "served the poor" I mean he pretended to drive the soup truck. It's a start though.

I am one proud mama. For such an embarrassing mother, these kids are pretty darn sharp! And kind. And someday, I think they will be glad for the generational curse of crazy that passed down through the generations.

Day 7: Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now, Not Even Tom

You guys. We are done with week one.

Since people are googling #AdamsActs to find out why on earth strangers are putting money in their car, I think I should make it easy to get caught up. Here is where you can get started. 

It's been a crazy week! People have donated books to children in lower-income schools, people have donated money to very important charities, people have paid for other's meals and tipped very generously. People have bought coffee, lots and lots of coffee for friends, teachers, colleagues, etc. There have been baked goods, and flowers, and chores done... and it has been awesome. Truly, I mean that in the very literal sense... awesome.

My parents lost their only son. All of the dreams they had for his future were instantly gone. Everything they had envisioned for him, all of the ways they imagined his personality and his gifts impacting this world, were no longer possible. I believe that losing a child has got to be the most acute agony a person can endure, and the only thing that might be worse than that is having that child be forgotten.

For so many of you to participate in #AdamsActs, you have bestowed on my family a gift so immeasurable that I really cannot properly thank you. Every act of kindness spread in memory of Adam is a reminder that their boy, their child, their only son... mattered. He still matters. He is remembered. His life had value. The way he lived his life made an impact. And while they no longer have the simple luxury of dreams for their son's future, that devastating reality is somewhat tempered by the fact that their son has not been forgotten.

That is a kindness to my family, and thank you isn't enough. But, it's also all I've got so, thank you. 

So... Day 7.

After all the mushy stuff I just said, you are probably expecting something pretty sensational. 

 Wrong blog. 

 Tom wouldn't let me do anything good because he is a tyrant. 

 I am sorry to inform you that I blew it.

 I blame the emotional hangover from spilling my guts last night. 

 Tom hates kindness. Can you believe this guy? 

 What blog? I have a blog? 

 Tom promised to guest post tonight, but then flew into a rage and refused to do it. 

 I was trying to feed the homeless but Tom pushed me in a pond. 

Okay, okay... the jig is up. Today was sort of a bust. (Although everything about Tom is totally true. It's okay if you feel bad for me. I feel bad for me all the time.)

I did spend the day working very hard on a number of things for my sister-in-law's wedding which is coming up on the 16th. I am the maid of honor, so I have the typical MOH duties, but I am also making a bunch of stuff, soooo it wasn't like I was just lounging poolside all day.  Unlike Tom. 

But, fortunately, I was saved by the FedEx guy who delivered some fine sipping chocolate that I had ordered for our friends weeks ago. (If you don't know anything about fine sipping chocolate, that's probably a good thing. Don't ever try it because apparently it is a highly addictive substance that leads people to make terrible choices, like buying more fine sipping chocolate.) I have never tried it, because a sipping chocolate addiction feels like something that would be in my genetic makeup... but that didn't stop me from dealing a little sipping chocolate on the side. Just this one time. They can quit any time they want.

After my girls went to bed, I sneaked into their bedroom and put some encouraging notes and Bible verses around their room. They are both struggling with the adjustment to their new school, and making new friends is a challenge, especially for my quieter, more timid one. I took a few pictures of the notes  before Tom ripped them all down  in hopes that they would encourage you too.