Karen's Journey

Genna (Christmas) is over; Timkat (Epiphany) has come and gone. I guess it's finally time to take down the tree. One more look before we start the packing up process. This is T's ornament from pre-K.  It's supposed to be a reindeer, but I think it looks more like a moose. Precious either way. And this is an ornament S made when he was T's age.  Why his mother didn't still want it, I don't know. But I love it!

Here's a post I've been meaning to write for oh, 20 months or so. My apologies to anyone who has traveled in the interim who could have made use of it. What We Brought to Addis -- And Were Thankful to Have 1) Gatorade powder -- came in handy when we got sick 2) Packets of instant oatmeal -- came in handy when we got sick 3) Granola bars and foil-packet raisins -- handy snacks 4) Really large capacity video cards and photo cards 5) Converter to charge the cameras 6) Quick dry clothing -- would bring nothing but the next time -- including underwear 7) Individual use woolite packets for washing said quick dry clothing 8) Extra toothbrushes -- we each had an oops moment of sticking the toothbrush under the faucet (we learned to drape a washcloth over the faucet as a reminder) 9) Flip flops -- somewhat of a help in the otherwise shocking shower 10) Fleece jackets -- chills down rapidly at night 11) Punch balls for all the kids. -- they had so much fun with them. What

A few of my friends are going through a rough time with loss right now. I'm reminded of the W.H Auden poem, Funeral Blues . I'm reminded how during a particularly rough loss, I was so angry at the world for going on. Didn't they know my beloved was gone? How dare the grass grow and need to be mowed -- I went on strike against it and didn't mow for at least a month. How dare the marching band start their daytime rehearsals? Did they think I wanted to hear their music while tears ran down my face? How dare the leaves start to turn?. How dare the nights start to chill down? How dare time move further and further away from the days when my life was Complete? Here's one of the best article about grief I've ever read .  I think it helps explain why our journey with our kids is such a roller coaster. Grief is NOT linear. It helps to understand the seemingly random two steps back days. Funeral Blues by W.H. Auden Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,  Preve

This was our Christmas morning sunrise. And if you look closely, you can a little snow on the roofs. We had a white Christmas for a good part of the morning. 

1) The Connected Child by Karen Purvis (book): I've wanted to start reading this book ever since I finished up Adopting the Hurt Child . I'm two chapters in and finding great stuff -- that I wished I'd read before adopting, but it's never too late. I need to make a list and send it to both agencies I worked with. I dutifully read what they recommended, but none was as helpful as what I've found through suggestions from other parents. Ironically I'm downstairs writing in my blog rather than connecting with my child. Well, he's upstairs dancing his heart out to "Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer." Exercise is also good for attachment, so all's not lost perhaps. 2) A Rocky Mountain Christmas by John Denver (CD): Ok, laugh if you want. But this CD has "A Baby Just Like You," a song written for his adopted baby boy. I used to like it ok. Now I sob when I hear it. I totally connect to the emotion expressed in it. "You've given ba

In March of last year, a year and a month after we'd come home with T, we received several emails from the social worker in Ethiopia, with digital photos of T's family attached. Glory, hallelujah! I sobbed with joy. We saw his brothers and sister for the first time. They were holding the Christmas card we'd sent and had the photo album open to the page where T is wearing his traditional Ethiopian shirt, pointing to that photo. They were clearly pleased that we have honored his culture by clothing him in that shirt. Seeing those photos, I realized with a clarity that had escaped me prior to that moment that we did not leave his family behind in Ethiopia. Despite the hardships of distance and communication, we are not two separate families, but rather one large one, joined by our love for one little boy. I feel an even deeper sense of commitment to keep them informed about how their little boy is blossoming -- fulfilling, and possibly exceeding, all their hopes for him. To

If there is no struggle, there is no progress. Those who profess to favor freedom, and yet depreciate agitation, are men who want crops without plowing up the ground. They want rain without thunder and lightning. They want the ocean without the awful roar of its many waters. This struggle may be a moral one; or it may be a physical one; or it may be both moral and physical; but it must be a struggle. Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and it never will.  -- Frederick Douglass As a woman who has been denied rights and opportunities my entire life -- not allowed to play organized sports, no state championships for girls in indoor track, earning significantly lower income than male colleagues for the same work -- I feel a kinship with Mr. Douglass. I believe the definition of "progressive" means that one doesn't think that our society has reached its full potential in terms of justice for all. We believe there is still room for improvement. It is shockin