Made my day!

I got the best compliment today. I was picking up Ty early from school and also some work he had neglected. The school secretary told me his teacher brought the work and said she wasn't sure if she should leave it all because it was so much. Another teacher was in the office and asked who it was for, then after finding out it was for Ty, told his teacher that she should definitely leave all the work because Tyrell has a good mom that would work with him to get it done.  It completely made my day. 

It felt so good to hear that because I so often feel frustrated and as though I am failing as a parent in the education department (and being a former teacher is salt in the wound). 

The reason I'm sharing is because it was too wordy for facebook we could all up our game when it comes to encouraging one another. If you are thinking something great about someone, tell them! They could probably really use the pick me up, and you both could use the smile. :)

A sad state of affairs

I had an interesting conversation with Ty today. First we started talking about college football. Nothing too deep, but he did refer to Fresno State as "Frendzo State" and Texas A&M as "Texas ATM". He cracks me up. :)
Then we started talking about college for him. It's a bit of an ongoing discussion in our house, the expectation that he will go to college, and the reality that some of the decisions he makes now will affect his college choices (football, grades, etc.). That sounds like a lot of pressure for a 13-year-old, but I promise it's not that serious, more of just creating an awareness for him and also the confidence that he is capable of going to to, being successful, and graduating from college.
The other thing that plays into Ty's college choices is that due to his time in foster care he has tuition waived at any state university in Florida. Yeah, baby! Basically every state gives "perks" to kids that have been in foster care and to families who adopt kids from foster care. Part of what Florida offers is waived tuition at any state school. So that's pretty cool for us. It also adds an element to any conversation about college, because money is part of the decision making process. Not that anyone's making decisions, again just more awareness.
Ty and I were talking about some of the schools in Florida and he asked what school is in Tampa (USF). I gave him a little info about it (huge, green and yellow, bulls). And then he asked about Orlando (UCF). I told him a little about UCF as well (big, not quite as big as USF, black and gold, knights, my friend Dana went there). Then he asked me if there had been any terror attacks or gunmen at either school. I told him no (I can't remember any....?) and he seemed satisfied. But it definitely bothers me that school shootings are on his radar as an expected event. Maybe they haven't happened everywhere, but they've happened enough that they're not what anyone would call "uncommon".
I was in high school when the Columbine shooting happened. It was a big freaking deal. Big. Ty wasn't born yet. He was 13 months old when the terror attacks on 9/11 happened. He witnessed violence personally early in life, and violence has continued to echo through current events and news reports throughout his life (news reports which I guarantee no one thought to TURN OFF due to the inappropriate nature of a young child watching massacres on TV) . He sees violent attacks and killings as something to expect regularly. Maybe that's the reality of our world, but it makes me so very sad that my child feels the need to consider that in his life decisions.

Story time/Book giveaway in Guatemala

Yesterday morning we were expecting 2 groups of a dozen or more kids to do story time, craft, and a book giveaway with. As per custom in Guatemala, we had a handful arrive 40 minutes early (kinda surprising), and most arrive half an hour late.
The plan was to read The Little Red Hen (en espanol), make "baulking chickens" with red solo cups, googly eyes, and wet string, and give a book to each kid to take home. I was a little nervous that it was going to be crazy or out of control, especially since it was all sort of my idea and I only have a few words in Spanish. But it went GREAT! Holly and Chris's son, Jack, read the book to the first group, and explained that the story was about helping others. Jon, another son, explained and translated much of the craft and the kids looooooved it! It was smiles all around. Then Holly figured out which kids needed a book on what grade level and we passed out books. So many of the kids began reading them right away- that made me want to burst with happiness! We took pictures, thanked the kids for coming, and cleaned up to get ready for the next group.
Ashleigh (my cousin and travel partner extraordinaire) shocked me by reading the book to the second group of kids! Seriously, you think you know someone, you've been family for nearly a decade, and then a girl goes and reveals that she's nearly fluent in Spanish. Makes me wonder what else she's hiding...:)
Jon helped again with the craft for the second group, the kids were given books on their grade level, everyone had a blast, we took pictures, thanked them for coming, and sent them on their way. I thought we were done. I was so pleased at how well everything had gone.
Then two of the kids from the second group showed up with more kids! I guess they enjoyed it so much they went and got their friends. Too cute. We had plenty of supplies and books, so we did story time once more for these kiddos. It was the same- all the kids smiling and laughing at their baulking chickens, reading their books. It was awesome!
What we did with the kids here is something that might be commonplace in the US. We take for granted that we have libraries with kids programs, or that we have libraries at all. Here in Magdalena you learn to read in school, if you go. If you struggle to learn in school there is no differentiated instruction in the classroom, or extra tutoring with the teacher before or after school, or library to get books to practice reading, or even literate parents to help at home. I don't know what the literacy rate is here, but many, many adults can only read on a very low level. Some cannot read at all. If you can't read, you have few options for work, and you have almost no opportunity to learn new things, to better yourself. You can't read the bible.
Case in point: We went to a key ceremony yesterday for a family receiving a house from the 12x12 Love Project. The grandfather was given a bible and was asked if he could read. He said only a little. Here this man was, given a book filled with a message of Love just for him, and he can't even access it.  That is pretty commonplace here. It was such a contrast from hearing those little sweeties read their new books just hours before.
I'm not sure where I go from here. (Well, home. I go home tomorrow.) I have a lot of thoughts. There are women that would benefit so much from reading instruction. There are children, and a whole community, that would benefit from a library. I would love to come back and do story and craft time again. It's such a small thing in the face of so much poverty and illiteracy. But it's still something.

Hola from Guatemala!

Hi from Guatemala! The first thing you should know is the internet is en espanol here, so logging into my google account was moy dificil. I hope that means difficult. If not, well, there begin my troubles. ;)
I ended up going on this trip to Guatemala because I turned 30 last month and I was having a hard time facing it. I thought I wanted to do something interesting or memorable to commemorate my 30 years. But my friend Holly (who I worked on the Guatemala school sponsorship program with last year. No, I can't link my post about it or her blog. The internet is in spanish.) had mentioned once or twice that I should come to meet some of the kids. Plus I had a box of books in spanish I had been collecting, and the awesome folks at Journey church did a backpack drive for the kids. So ultimately I told Jerry all I wanted for my birthday was a ticket to Guatemala. Which means I kind of turned 30 and came to Guatemala to celebrate.
My cousin came with me and that has been fabulous! The actual traveling went off without a hitch. That was the part I was most worried about (giant, heavy luggage filled with backpacks and books). Once we got here and met up with our friends Chris and Holly, I was greatly relieved.
On the way home from the airport yesterday we stopped at a hospital to pick up a mama and her new baby. Awe, sounds so sweet. What actually happened was we pulled up to the hospital only to find out this poor 19-year-old girl who had a c-section less than 48 hours prior had basically been kicked out of the hospital because she had spent the maximum amount of time allowed (or something) and then spent 2 hours under a pavilion outside the hospital waiting for us. She had no pain medicine in her body. And then she climbed into a van. That appeared to be painful for her, I willed myself not to cry and held my breath. Then we drove over cobblestone-type roads, and crumbling paved roads, and 20-some odd speed bumps (not an exaggeration. There are 29 speed bumps to get to Chris and Holly's house, but this girl's house was towards the front of town, so there were a few less.). She did have a prescription for various medicines, which we stopped at a pharmacy to get on the way home. When we dropped her off we were still several hundred feet from her house. Our van couldn't get down the narrow road, which led to a tiny, muddy, uneven path littered with pieces of rock and brick. Which led to a little walkway between some homes with some giant, uneven, muddy steps, which led to her house. Which I'm pretty sure was at least a concrete block 2-room home with a concrete floor. That is much better than a house with cornstalk or cardboard walls and a dirt/mud floor.
This morning we got news that the baby cried all. night. long. Oy vey, it is hard having a new baby no matter you are or where you come from. It is obviously harder if your start to parenthood involves being 19 and kicked out of the hospital with your guts stapled together and not a dose of pain meds to hold you over until you get home. We visited Miriam (new mama) and Kevin (new baby) this morning. Kevin is just as precious as can be, but I remember the desperation I felt when Eli slept for 45 minutes the entire first night we were home.
The consensus is that Kevin is hungry and needs to nurse more, or they need to figure out nursing together, or something along those lines. Nothing appears to be wrong with him, he's just new, and that's hard. There is a woman here who helps nursing mamas (kind of like a lactation consultant), so she has agreed to go see Miriam and Kevin.
The very best news in all of this is that Miriam's family is supportive and helpful. Kevin's dad, Eddie, is with them along some motherly type of women. They are all trying to help, no one is leaving Miriam and Kevin alone to fend for themselves. In the midst of difficult circumstances Miriam has people who care that she can lean on a bit.
Tomorrow is going to be a big day here. We have kiddos coming for storytime and a craft. They will also get to pick a book(!!!) to take home with them. So thank you to everyone that gave me books to bring with me- they are about to find a new home in the hands of some sweet kids! I think the reading and crafting activities tomorrow will be CRAZY, but fun and also encourage reading. I'd appreciate any and all prayers for Miriam, Kevin, and the kids that are coming tomorrow! Thanks, friends!

Going out on a limb

First of all, if you have the opportunity to encourage or uplift or connect with someone, DO IT!

We had a really neat experience today. We've been on our road trip for 9 days now. We were checking out of one hotel earlier today, heading to another hotel where we were going to meet up with a friend of Jerry's and also get a great rate on a room. Hooray for friends and hooray for deals!
As we were loading up the car, this guy that worked at the hotel approached Jerry and motioned to speak with him privately. I've got an eyeball on jerry while Ty and I pack the car, Eli was already in the carseat. Whatever this guy and jerry are discussing, it seems friendly. Turns out the guy was verifying that we are a family via adoption and wanted to share with Ty that he too was adopted. Jerry gives him the OK and he comes over to Ty, starts talking to him about being adopted. They shake hands, share a special moment, we all thank the man for sharing with us, and get in the car.  Ty's smile was so big you could feel it around you. See, Ty was being pretty grumpy about helping me or maybe just about life in general, before our serendipitous moment. Afterward he actually said, "Okay, I'm happy now!" and gave a joyful little chuckle.
The thing about our family is that we are so obvious. No one ever assumes we are just a regular family. Heck, usually at theme parks and restaurants, attendants and hostesses don't even think we're together! We're pretty used to it, but it's still a drag. I feel it sometimes, and Ty is hyper aware of it. So for someone who knows how Ty feels to take a minute and from the outside affirm who Ty is in our family was a huge deal. Ty felt encouraged, empowered, confident, and understood. 
I could never do for Tyrell what that man did for him in 2 minutes. I'm so thankful I could sob on his shoulder. 
So if you have the opportunity to encourage and uplift someone, DO IT! You never know if you are in the right place at the right time to leave some meaningful fingerprints on someone's heart. (or even on their mom's heart)
Also, Thanks God! That was awesome! :)

D Day

Today is the 69th anniversary of D Day. I know this because my facebook newsfeed told me so. And then I shared this image on my newsfeed:

I must stop and admit that I never understood the significance of D Day until today. After I shared the D Day picture, I actually googled "what is the significance of d day". I found out that it really is the big deal it is made to be. Maybe even bigger. It was THE turning point in WWII. It was basically when the allied forces took action and said, "The buck stops here" and sent troops in. Literally, dropped them off on the edge of Europe, on the beach at Normandy, France. This picture (and every other Normandy picture you've ever seen) is what young soldiers actually saw and experienced that day.
Later, a cousin of mine commented on the picture I shared, inquiring whether my grandma's brother (said cousin's uncle) was there that day. He had fought in WWII and had seen many important battles. Then, my grandma's sister commented that their brother was indeed there, he was only 19, and he was scared.
And then it meant something to me. These men were sons, brothers, friends, husbands, fathers. Maybe this wasn't "just part of the job" or "a day in history" or their idea of a "day at the beach". These were young men, they were terrified, they were far from home, and they were suddenly fighting a war. And one of them was my great uncle.
Can you imagine what it felt like to be there? Or what it felt like to have a loved one there? No internet with instant updates, no TV with nightly reports and images. Just a radio. No skyping or facetiming, no phone calls, just letters. How hard that must have been! Less certainty, more faith, more hope in the waiting.
The hubs and I were discussing D Day this evening and he mentioned how when his dad lived in Britain elderly folks would stop him in town and thank him for America's efforts in WWII. They remembered how ugly and scary things had gotten in England and how close they had come to being taken over by the Germans. They would tell my father-in-law that the only reason they were standing there that day was because of America. That's pretty humbling.
Humans have a way of romanticizing history. I'm not saying everything was better in 1944 (clearly everything wasn't better. It was WWII.) We don't have a history of having clean hands. Just ask the Native Americans. I don't think any country has a history of a clear conscience. But these days are especially alarming. With the National Security Administration and all their data-mining, drone operators being given report cards of how many people they kill (really, 1600+ killed by a single drone operator were ALL terrorists?), not to mention the IRS....things are getting ugly. And uncomfortable.
But today we remember all of the men who stormed the beach at Normandy- who were scared to death, but did it anyway. We remember the ones who lived to tell about it and the ones who didn't.  We remember the sons, brothers, uncles, fathers, and husbands who changed the course of history and practically saved the world. We thank them for their service and honor them as great Americans.
This one's for you, Uncle Harold!

Muffins with Mommy

There were so many muffins with mommy pictures on my Facebook newsfeed this morning. It brings back such sweet, sweet memories.
Mother's Day 2010. We had known Tyrell for a matter of weeks. He had my whole heart from the beginning. His teacher emailed me the week before Mother's Day and said something along the lines of, "I know it's late notice, but there's this muffins for mommy breakfast on Friday if you want to come…" She could have told me it was the next day and I would have been there.
I remember we drove down to Tampa on Thursday afternoon and took Tyrell to dinner. And then on Friday morning I got up super early and had to be at Ty's school at some ungodly hour like 7 AM. I met him at his daycare, which was across the street from the school, and then we walked together to school. He pointed out his friends to me and told me about them. We got to the media center where the muffins for mommy event was, and Ty was so proud to have someone to bring with him. I was delighted to be his person.
We ate muffins from Mimi's café. We read some books. Ty was pretty indecisive about what we were going to read. Someone took a picture of us. I never got a copy. But I have this sweet, sweet memory.
After muffins for mommy, Tyrell's teacher said I could come with him to class and stay as long as I wanted. I didn't want to be too much of a distraction for him, so I stayed about 45 minutes. But when I left I gave him a hug and a kiss and said goodbye and asked him where he wanted to go to dinner that night. I'm sure he said CiCi's or McDonald's. That's pretty much always been his answer. But then when I went to leave he ran after me and asked me, "Where do you want to go to dinner?"
He's always been such a sweetie.