11teen more days. 11teen. It feels like so much, and not so much. I try to count out 11teen cars and books and planes, just to see how much that is, but Lyla keeps interrupting me. Little sisters…pfff. Just 11teen days separate me from my BIG adventure. Momma says this isn’t just any adventure. She tells me we are going to the land of BIG things. BIG mountains, BIG wild spaces, BIG bears, BIG ice cube thingies, BIG days (Momma says the sun goes to bed for only a couple hours), and BIG fun.

Even better, we get to go on a BIG boat- or ship – as part of our trip! Even better than that, I get to do all this with a lot of my BIG people!! I get to go with Papa, Gram Spam, Momma, Daddy, Lyla (eye roll), Auntie Kate (I can’t wait to read with her), Uncle Tim (maybe he will play Legos with me), Auntie Christine (she makes me smile and gives the best hugs), cousin MoMo (Dance party!!!), and cousin Brooke (she’s fun, has my birthday, and has the best smile).

First we have to go by car from our house all the way up to Canada. Still not sure how I feel about road trips and being strapped in the car for such a long time, but Momma and Daddy both make it fun. I always get to see new things. And guess what…take MORE pictures along the way (eye roll). Then we get on the BIG boat with everyone else. I’m pretty sure my brain will explode if I try to think about all we will see on the boat, from the boat, and when we get off the boat. Momma has been telling me stories and showing me pictures, but c’mon…I’m two. I can handle only so much.

After the BIG boat, we get to go on a train to the BIG mountain that starts with a “D”, like “Daddy”. A train!!!!! After the train, a bus will take us all around that BIG mountain where we might see BIG bears, BIG cats, BIG goats, BIG flowers (eye roll), and BIG trees. Just think of all the pictures!!!! Wait…did I just say that??!! (eye roll).

After the trip to the BIG mountain we get to take another bus and have more adventures before we get on a plane to start home!! My very first plane trip!! Momma and Daddy look scared when we talk about the plane ride with me and Lyla…but I will keep them safe and sound. A plane with me in it!!! In the sky!!! Brain…exploding.

I’m so excited I could pee my pants!!! Don’t judge.

11teen more days. Then it’s time for my BIG adventure with my family, full of BIG fun and lots of love. I’ll be sure to take pictures and share with everyone! Yes, I said that. There must be something about cars, trains, buses, boats and planes that makes me not care about the cameras and pictures!! I am one happy boy.

Ever since I fell and broke myself, I’ve had a lot of time to think. My big people don’t let me do too much stuff. So, with all this “rest” time, I think…and I scheme. No, just kidding!! I don’t really scheme, I’m two!

Back to the scheming, I mean thinking…So yea, as I get older, I find I do a lot of thinking anyway. Where do the birds sleep? When can I see the new helicopter movie with Dusty Crophopper? Why can’t I see it now? What if I feed my nemo fishies too much? Will they grow so big and break the tank really? Why does Momma not like sharks, because they seem nice enough in that movie? Why can’t I stay up all night and read? Is Lyla really staying forever? When does the boat for Alaska leave? Will it come here? Is the train on the boat too? And the plane? And the bus?  Why does Momma keep asking me what my name is or Lyla’s name is? Does she really not remember? Will I turn into a watermelon if I eat too much? Will I turn into a prune if I stay in the bathtub forever? Why can’t I use Daddy’s camera? (I already know how…pff). Is eating dirt or leaves really that bad? Does the bobcat really hug the chickens and take them back to his house?

Whew…it is exhausting really. One of the biggest questions I’ve been asking myself lately (since I haven’t been able to take pictures) is about who will take pictures when we (me, Momma, Daddy and the “others”) stop? Will Lyla? Certainly not at this rate. By the time I was her age, I was already taking my own pictures, and had been given two cameras. I guess it is up to me to show her…to teach the next generation.

If you want to beat your head against the wall over and over again…it might be easier than trying to teach Lyla about cameras!! Oh man. I. Have. Tried. Trust me, I’ve tried it all. Since she didn’t seem to get the camera lesson, I decided to show her what some textures were. Start simple. Once again, my actions were misinterpreted as shoving her face in the carpet, the driveway, the couch, dumping water over her head, painting her legs, and pushing her against the wall. I simply wanted her to see the textures up close, to focus. All Momma saw was the last part of all of it.

We have a lot of work to do. See for yourself. The pictures say it all.  

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“8 little monkeys jumpin’ on the bed. One fell off and bumped his head. Momma called the doctor and the doctor said, ‘No more monkeys jumping on the bed!!’” I love that book. Actually, I love any book. I mean, WHO DOESN’T??!!! Oh wait…Lyla doesn’t. Give me a break.

Actually, that happened. I mean…I got a break. Yea. I was just reading my book. Maybe I was sitting on the bench in a way that Momma told me not to. I’m not saying I was, just that it is possible. I’m two. C’mon.

So yea, I was reading this amazing book and I fell. It happened fast and probably is the most scared I have ever been. I cried. I kicked and I cried. I cried so loud and hard that I couldn’t breathe. Momma was right there to hold me.   She kept telling me I was safe. She kept telling me she was there and that Daddy was coming soon.   She rubbed my head, sang me songs and loved me. But all I could do was cry. I cried so much that Lyla started crying.

Everything started to get cold. It hurt so much that I started shaking and shaking. Momma sang louder then and told me again I was safe, I was loved. I felt like if I just went to sleep that it would be better.   I don’t remember Daddy coming home, but when he did, I was almost asleep.  

Momma called the doctor and the doctor said… “Bring him in.”   So I got to go to a big huge doctor’s office. It was called a hopitoo. No…hospy. No…hospital!! Everyone was really nice there.   The nice doctor even called me a superhero. He called me a brave boy!!   It hurt when he tried to move me, so he said we needed pictures. He said it was probably broken. Wait…what??

Oh perfect. Him too??!!! Great. I’m surrounded by people who take pictures. What could this doctor POSSIBLY want to take pictures of at a time like this?? Can’t I catch a break??!!   Wait, I’m broken?   Did he just say I was broken????   That didn’t sound good. Not at all.

A woman came and got me and Momma. We got to wear capes and stand on a stool. Then a big big machine came at me. The woman told me it was going to take pictures of me. So I smiled. She told me not to. Someone’s a grumpy pants. I stood really still and the machine took pictures …of my bones!!!   My bones!!!   Now, THAT is a cool camera. I’m asking for one for my next birthday.  

After the pictures, we got a special brace for me. It hurts. But the doctor said Momma and Daddy would help me feel better, and keep me safe.   I broke my collar bone. Whatever that is. It just feels like my shoulder is on fire.

It isn’t fun. Everyone tells me to stop doing this, and stop doing that because I will get hurt. Everyone watches everything I do. I do get to read a lot of books, which is cool.   But I can’t run that much, or jump…or do EVERYTHING a two-year old boy NEEDS to do all day long. I DO get extra hugs and cuddles. Momma and Daddy do keep me safe.

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Before you keep reading you should know this is Nate’s Momma. He had a little accident last week and needed a break, some time to heal. So I thought I’d write his little “note” today. You should also know that not all his “notes” are Momma-approved…but who am I to squelch his creativity?!

When Nate isn’t stealing my computer to write, taking pictures with everything BUT his own camera, leaving notes about how our day should go, and bossing his baby sister around, he actually does regular, 2-year-old boy stuff! Believe it or not, he does. He reads, plays with cars, planes, trains and Legos. But then I guess you probably know that. I’ve read an entry or two.

Well, last week he was being a 2-year-old boy when he fell off the bench and snapped his little clavicle bone all the way through! I saw it happen out of the corner of my eye as I picked up his cranky baby sister. I knew. I knew it was a bad one. Not the last, I’m sure, but as the first, it felt traumatic.

The break!

At the emergency room, the attending doctor warned us it was a bad break, that it might be hard to see the x-rays and hear that news. Nate, however, was charming everyone there, making friends with all. When we left, the doctor told him he was a superhero.

We already knew that.

The days that followed his accident have only proven that, as if we had any doubt. You see, here is a 2-year old with a broken bone that can’t be cast and thus, is constantly reminded of the pain as he tries to use that arm and shoulder. Here is a 2-year old who is the poster child for a running, jumping, climbing, non-stop boy, and yet isn’t allowed to be physical for awhile. Try telling him that!!  When I watch him move, wince, cry and quietly declare, “I have an owie…I feel pretty sad. Maybe I will feel better toonono,” I get a little sad. Nate doesn’t miss a thing, and notices this. He is the one hurting, and he comes up to me with those eyes and takes my hand saying, “It’s okay Momma. Don’t be sad. You will be fine.  I love you. I will keep you safe.”  Be. Still. My. Heart.

He takes my breath away. His tenderness and ability to touch my soul amaze me. He is my superhero. But it seems, even superheroes need a break. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be back to writing next week!

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There is beauty all around us. Some of it is loud, some of it is soft.  Some beauty surprises us. I know, I know…I’ve written a time or two before about looking for hidden beauty. Last week, though, I was reminded of the many forms and places beauty takes shape.  Sometimes this splendor isn’t always in the pictures I look for, the images I capture with my camera.  Sometimes the beautiful details are in every day life.

I repeatedly preach (occupational hazard of being a Pastor’s daughter?) to anyone who will listen about not missing opportunities to see the magnificence that surrounds us. Sure a sunset, wild flower, sculpture or mountain landscape practically blind us with splendor. Looking closer at grass blowing in the wind, white puffy clouds, the fluid patterns of rusted metal, or the reflections of light from a pile of broken glass reveals concealed loveliness that waits to be noticed.

Every day, I try to notice new beauty, find opportunities to discover those patient details waiting to be noticed. Sometimes though, I get in my own way and miss it completely. Last Tuesday was one of those days.

Last Tuesday, in a courtroom before more than 25 witnesses, we signed papers that finalized our daughter’s adoption. That’s a pretty big deal. Yes, early in the case, while we were still fostering her, we knew it would be quite possible to adopt her. We knew the risks. Yes, she was “ours” in our hearts from the day we met her. We knew we wanted for her to be with us forever. We waited. We loved her and waited.

And our day came. Tuesday’s day in court meant we were a forever family. It meant we don’t have to look over our shoulders anymore, or have people looking over ours. We have rights now as her parents! We don’t have to explain the situation to people about different names and paperwork they have to fill out, or paperwork we have to show them. We can breathe.

We couldn’t help but remember the sentiment of our son’s adoption, finalized just 17 months earlier. This day was certainly no less emotional. The significance of this day was huge. We shuffled in to the courtroom with friends and family around, waiting to see “the judge”.   As he walked out and approached our little family at the table, I couldn’t help but notice how casual he was. No robe, cowboy boots.

He greeted us, sat, chatted with Nate, and tried to engage Lyla. He spoke to us about the meaning of the day, showed us the papers, had us sign on our lines, and then signed on his own lines. With a quick flip of his wrist, a smile in his eye and a hand shake, he congratulated us and invited us to take pictures in the courtroom. That’s IT?!!! I remember feeling disappointed at Nate’s finalization because it was so fast. This time, it was even faster!! He didn’t even make a declaration or announce her name to the courtroom!!! Just a hand shake???!!! What the….

I wanted to yell, “WAIT! That’s….IT???!!!”. But I just smiled back. The whole time pictures were being taken, I marinated in my indignance and disappointment. I smiled for the cameras and kept thinking…

We went through 67 social worker and lawyer visits, 38 bio dad visits, 12 doctor visits, and lost 60.88 days of sleep since Lyla came to our home in April 2013. (Yes, I can provide proper calculations.)   All that, and a guy in cowboy boots and no robe comes out, takes 6 minutes to talk to us and sign some papers, doesn’t make a proclamation and that’s it?!!!  

I stewed like this for days. Don’t get me wrong, I was grateful, relieved, and filled with joy. But somehow I lost sight of that joy and peace because I thought those 6 minutes didn’t match the enormity of that day like I thought they should. I missed the beauty in those minutes.

The Moment

When I took the papers out of the folder just yesterday to file them, I looked at them again. And then I saw the beauty…it was there all along. The judge’s signature, Lyla’s name, our names, the SAME last name, the names and signatures of our family and friends- perfect details. How could anything be more beautiful? How had I missed that?

At night sometimes I wake up scared. I don’t know why, or what scares me, but I feel like running as fast as I can. That’s when I scream and scream because I don’t know what to do with those big feelings. They are just so…big. And they make me feel really little. Momma and Daddy always come running to find me and help me. They hug me and rub my back. They squeeze the scared right out of me with big arms and soft songs. They always tell me the same thing: “We will keep you safe and sound…you are safe, you are loved.” I guess it is what big people do for little people.

Sometimes when those big feelings come I try to grab a stuffed animal, or my lovey, or just shut my eyes tight. But nothing makes it all go away like Momma and Daddy. When we go somewhere new and I feel that scary stuff coming up, I tell myself (and Momma and Daddy in case they forget) “you will keep me safe and sound. You will keep me safe and sound.” They always smile at me to tell me yes.

I think Lyla gets scared at night too, and when we see someone, anyone, new. So I tell her she’s okay. She is safe and sound. But she just doesn’t get it. Such a baby.

Momma was asking about a cemetery the other day that she wants to go take pictures in, and Daddy started clearing his throat. I already knows that means he is upset. He thinks, and honestly I do too, that Momma’s thing with cemetery pictures is strange…and scary. But she is kinda strange. In a good way, I guess. But still strange. I watched him and could tell he needed a hug. He said he would drive, but stay in the car. I knew it…he DID need a hug, like I do when I have big scary feelings.

I walked up to him, grabbed his hand, and said, “It’s okay Daddy. You are fine. I will keep you safe and sound. I love you too.”   Both Momma and Daddy scooped me up and seemed a little sad because their eyes leaked a little. But they had big smiles.  

Well, we got to go on that field adventure for Momma to take cemetery pictures. And I kept Daddy safe and sound. And he kept me safe and sound. Even big people need to be taken care of sometimes.