tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40002058670370903012024-03-05T07:56:27.104-07:00Bringing Him Home..."Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming of it. My optimism, then, does not rest on the absence of evil, but on a glad belief in the preponderance of good and willing effort always to cooperate with the good, that it may prevail." -Helen KellerUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger126125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-25370860577958061142015-02-03T12:40:00.003-07:002015-02-03T12:40:55.116-07:00Oregon Coast August 2014I was looking back through some photos this morning and wanted to share these great pictures from our trip to the Oregon coast last summer. We rented a house right on the beach for five days with my parents, sister and sister-in-law, and niece. It was such a great time. The kids had never seen the ocean before, so you can imagine their excitement at seeing such a sight for the first time. Gabe was entranced and LOVED having all that space to run. I think he and Brian ran over 20 miles over the course of five days, with Brian chasing Gabe for most of that time :-)<div>
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On to the photos...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first stop was in Hood River, Oregon. Look at all the wind surfers in the Columbia River! It was so fun to watch.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Next stop was Multnomah Falls. It was beautiful! The whole Columbia River Gorge is beautiful.</td></tr>
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After staying in Hillsboro for the night, we headed to the coast early the next morning. The kids were squealing in the back seat when they saw it. We stopped in Seaside, parked the car and they all started running to the ocean. </div>
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Except these two, who got distracted by some big holes someone left behind...</div>
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Finally we all made it to the ocean, and general mayhem and happy screams and all kinds of smiles ensued.</div>
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The water was chilly, but Gabe didn't care. He LIVES for the water.</div>
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We spent a couple hours at the beach in Seaside, having to promise them there would be plenty more sand and sea at the rental house. </div>
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We made it to the house in Pacific City and, wow, talk about a great beach view! We were right on the sand, with huge sand dunes right out the door and a gorgeous view of Haystack rock. It was heaven! The sound of the ocean always amazes me, it's scope and size always a wonder.</div>
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Gabe's favorite thing to do? RUN!!!!! This boy felt the freedom of an endless beach and took full advantage! It was beautiful to watch. No more orphanage walls for this boy. </div>
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The boys loved this steep dune, pretending to be unable to climb up. Gabe would lay down and stretch out his hand yelling "help!" to Jake, who would dramatically stretch out his own hand and lift him up. It's always drama with these two!</div>
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We spent a lot of time right on our own beach. So much fun.</div>
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A favorite game was to chase the waves.....and then get chased <i>by</i> the waves!</div>
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My parents :-)</div>
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One of the days we drove down to Newport to the Aquarium there. It was so much fun to see sharks and sting rays and all kinds of sea creatures. The kids loved it, too!</div>
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I love this photo so much. This boy has such wonder for the world around him. </div>
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That's one tired little sea otter :-)</div>
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Don't know where she gets her silliness from?? :-)</div>
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Another day we headed just about a mile north to a beautiful area that had a lot of tide pools and neat rock features. </div>
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The boys found this little "cave" that protected them from the chilly wind.</div>
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Another of my favorite pictures from the trip.</div>
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Despite my protests because of the cool wind, he couldn't resist dipping his feet. </div>
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The trip was so great, the kids ask when we are going back. I hope very soon!</div>
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Brian and my sister were brave and tried out some boogie boarding! Kennedy did it too! She borrowed my sister's wet suit. She did great, until she got a mouthful of sea water.</div>
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Leah wasn't interested in a family photo, so this is as good as it got! This was the morning we left for home, so we were all exhausted in the best way :-)</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-82183689890875549822014-07-31T15:05:00.003-06:002014-07-31T15:05:51.967-06:00Summer Looks Like...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj46RrgYxMoUX56Vgpaq50MKWdXgw32jcJz5-9tJvmJVfnMP5H_tK4xHdeFFazbiUhHkbg9I49UBGz52Ty928a_rSghYi1TqjrOQkR9fE7s5053xpwJv0sjEqg6Urxd3KRrDZH6I8tl/s1600/IMG_8165.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj46RrgYxMoUX56Vgpaq50MKWdXgw32jcJz5-9tJvmJVfnMP5H_tK4xHdeFFazbiUhHkbg9I49UBGz52Ty928a_rSghYi1TqjrOQkR9fE7s5053xpwJv0sjEqg6Urxd3KRrDZH6I8tl/s1600/IMG_8165.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Being the world's best patient at his latest ear check. Slightly less hearing in his left ear, but hearing is still great!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxtnxIr4EtPPQ9at0dtrOzJzipWaUeGyxHEA4O6XDOy2AlQhnHckAnx9CutB07kuG5rKsG1j9k7TBCEbtRyoQxbls-NVpxy1bSb1VNd__bCdwo3yVgb5dzYA_GR9z5oWz5HMwI2Dg9/s1600/IMG_8241.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxtnxIr4EtPPQ9at0dtrOzJzipWaUeGyxHEA4O6XDOy2AlQhnHckAnx9CutB07kuG5rKsG1j9k7TBCEbtRyoQxbls-NVpxy1bSb1VNd__bCdwo3yVgb5dzYA_GR9z5oWz5HMwI2Dg9/s1600/IMG_8241.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Girly dates!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm2VKNj9aDOR6b_nKZZra-LtWfRowpXQbNvN7daiqxxce5pHpGtqcEs1VPpEyzi3NIJjqnaOWNgboRD7OHGZYOGwahZblRM4uenTj0xhS2nDgAlvSspwvUQc_RWC7u5T4JxSO4w2Gc/s1600/IMG_8083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm2VKNj9aDOR6b_nKZZra-LtWfRowpXQbNvN7daiqxxce5pHpGtqcEs1VPpEyzi3NIJjqnaOWNgboRD7OHGZYOGwahZblRM4uenTj0xhS2nDgAlvSspwvUQc_RWC7u5T4JxSO4w2Gc/s1600/IMG_8083.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Independence Day! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMwIISvmNqpT0P6L8kkTuWr7Al0cPL7JH7mash5MPXF3uQWgcbFkNlZuj5NwxTH5dAwNNi-Cs3OS0FNGjIkAKXZNJ0TEuB3QTNt7tejNSZq6mk_xGv8JnoQ03S2okJlFiEbGycaBFg/s1600/IMG_8071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMwIISvmNqpT0P6L8kkTuWr7Al0cPL7JH7mash5MPXF3uQWgcbFkNlZuj5NwxTH5dAwNNi-Cs3OS0FNGjIkAKXZNJ0TEuB3QTNt7tejNSZq6mk_xGv8JnoQ03S2okJlFiEbGycaBFg/s1600/IMG_8071.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Independence Day!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eating Popsicles and figuring out how to smile for the camera :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eating peas fresh from the garden.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feeding horses.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMfK-t74xaf8YsAnI-ZNYn8RTSzP8Q__zIV_f-gnih-Dqj4b_6ozwHYZDb0EqLG5CrIenT0JXWO-gs693hEGrTB7IpTT0_5MuTQgG6NqSgrgkbNlMiv_p86RF0HZnd3a-YR_PQhGkE/s1600/IMG_8197.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMfK-t74xaf8YsAnI-ZNYn8RTSzP8Q__zIV_f-gnih-Dqj4b_6ozwHYZDb0EqLG5CrIenT0JXWO-gs693hEGrTB7IpTT0_5MuTQgG6NqSgrgkbNlMiv_p86RF0HZnd3a-YR_PQhGkE/s1600/IMG_8197.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Yee haw!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja1m163ri2p1WGmI1qSVRBSqI_MpRdOhN9g5ULVHcB_dEG62yWZ6BW7Prb4MJ6y96NRMjG94O84hUFZEAe7C1jAjRCcHhVINPqoELYlQfwDF7976USNNJLp3_XUDB_6nuNopK8r0yk/s1600/IMG_8177.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja1m163ri2p1WGmI1qSVRBSqI_MpRdOhN9g5ULVHcB_dEG62yWZ6BW7Prb4MJ6y96NRMjG94O84hUFZEAe7C1jAjRCcHhVINPqoELYlQfwDF7976USNNJLp3_XUDB_6nuNopK8r0yk/s1600/IMG_8177.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Howdy, partner!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqb_1WWgyTsOv4fcIfffWn2l98uY8cOXVWalxuYR1v5FYv5HOb96sKPu8nnMoCaUsTpAgN8v0bR4XSzoW7g1V9YAeZYW-oDNxjJuVrE0fT1SUzQCwLp7ekOyvn-O5yObd-IQLfy3ad/s1600/IMG_8168.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqb_1WWgyTsOv4fcIfffWn2l98uY8cOXVWalxuYR1v5FYv5HOb96sKPu8nnMoCaUsTpAgN8v0bR4XSzoW7g1V9YAeZYW-oDNxjJuVrE0fT1SUzQCwLp7ekOyvn-O5yObd-IQLfy3ad/s1600/IMG_8168.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gabe is suddenly obsessed with horses. Luckily for us, we have some great friends who happen to have horses! Gabe was beyond excited to finally get to ride one. He would have ridden into the night if we let him. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil2bo2egL0Sa552cqFnom74xDEY4YdRrp5qU8oDKfx-aZ3q0foXwmtSvKpTUy0jmFuUgXOrQlqJ6QS5scj0H9N7IHn_j2aqfEjGpSNNizNbDFKoFrXR6xlY04ABA_7je7rRfCu2d_t/s1600/IMG_8025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil2bo2egL0Sa552cqFnom74xDEY4YdRrp5qU8oDKfx-aZ3q0foXwmtSvKpTUy0jmFuUgXOrQlqJ6QS5scj0H9N7IHn_j2aqfEjGpSNNizNbDFKoFrXR6xlY04ABA_7je7rRfCu2d_t/s1600/IMG_8025.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brothers!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9DWkQiMwln3BjPg7K1ESII6qyVyCd3ufx_bNh-4AJj9aNjlDdKW_sBHm_RxKGOvs9d-7GnbTRsEIAU6zXS0tleqBrPlTdtPi4C8Ab_bnr3v7-2XRw9kqhMoQl2vQtaCb5OVUGkVUS/s1600/IMG_8004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9DWkQiMwln3BjPg7K1ESII6qyVyCd3ufx_bNh-4AJj9aNjlDdKW_sBHm_RxKGOvs9d-7GnbTRsEIAU6zXS0tleqBrPlTdtPi4C8Ab_bnr3v7-2XRw9kqhMoQl2vQtaCb5OVUGkVUS/s1600/IMG_8004.JPG" height="478" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Becoming more and more of a book worm!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbw39HVODShvp0HqMN6OyoC4_VD7rlrSk7i1DNBbJzomavYwRAafQyGjyATo1dNEAwD9wQsoreakXArcjHZXwP0UGrlZyvpXLup1rO2-z7_kBwNMb4wCVMEXpvQOaStggoiSpvZqvA/s1600/IMG_7978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbw39HVODShvp0HqMN6OyoC4_VD7rlrSk7i1DNBbJzomavYwRAafQyGjyATo1dNEAwD9wQsoreakXArcjHZXwP0UGrlZyvpXLup1rO2-z7_kBwNMb4wCVMEXpvQOaStggoiSpvZqvA/s1600/IMG_7978.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Campfire fun.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrRobU1NAViQNKmY13hyphenhypheng4GQxoz5YDO-7OrlfKXAW84fVnWWWNmBNo-2H1d576XZpVnxVC-8rQyWTR7hSDIo6h0DafigSM32RjrnFxSzzpz0MPju30HSgRjhyphenhyphenuP14qty1yIXQhE4ZW/s1600/IMG_7977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrRobU1NAViQNKmY13hyphenhypheng4GQxoz5YDO-7OrlfKXAW84fVnWWWNmBNo-2H1d576XZpVnxVC-8rQyWTR7hSDIo6h0DafigSM32RjrnFxSzzpz0MPju30HSgRjhyphenhyphenuP14qty1yIXQhE4ZW/s1600/IMG_7977.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The big kids were assigned to make a shelter in camp, just for fun.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJpO-yQu0_Ov30-YVcruYuXCqeb9DkJGY8g7Jv0PszfV8dQoqXiXbYTpFwSZCxmXR82DyHmXDEE5yVpMEq9qMLNuJlShsw5o4t8fREypLHFKSJ3_HPffhD1SVkhYA6W9-y6F_seGrb/s1600/IMG_7976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJpO-yQu0_Ov30-YVcruYuXCqeb9DkJGY8g7Jv0PszfV8dQoqXiXbYTpFwSZCxmXR82DyHmXDEE5yVpMEq9qMLNuJlShsw5o4t8fREypLHFKSJ3_HPffhD1SVkhYA6W9-y6F_seGrb/s1600/IMG_7976.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful big sister.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx5X4TZUSiBNPr1ouBuYVcsEko6KS4_EWrz62Uu2Z9frynq7XRtR22UsvOkK89OVhq2iMX86Js0CUbgSU_qeCGmy-rJVpBr7YEgXHUzojmaemVjUU7xdS9AajC-t5VfU2Y_qgtyZ0a/s1600/IMG_7975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx5X4TZUSiBNPr1ouBuYVcsEko6KS4_EWrz62Uu2Z9frynq7XRtR22UsvOkK89OVhq2iMX86Js0CUbgSU_qeCGmy-rJVpBr7YEgXHUzojmaemVjUU7xdS9AajC-t5VfU2Y_qgtyZ0a/s1600/IMG_7975.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No, this in not a postcard. You can't make up this kind of beauty. We're so blessed to be able to enjoy the outdoors.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmqRXu-BOddGKe-BODBeHN6CGTVr9KuTDx2pzUAOLynC-6wnor-6ihFQb3zHYAa1ybXPIbvmFdA7snQ_5HYI42wPRR3XfaDbdDB8MdYCxnuNtUF8oRxUHNU6wq2GxwXPJXne5YZtHg/s1600/IMG_7974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmqRXu-BOddGKe-BODBeHN6CGTVr9KuTDx2pzUAOLynC-6wnor-6ihFQb3zHYAa1ybXPIbvmFdA7snQ_5HYI42wPRR3XfaDbdDB8MdYCxnuNtUF8oRxUHNU6wq2GxwXPJXne5YZtHg/s1600/IMG_7974.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking with your best friend in the beautiful mountains of Idaho.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyiu8L4r796lt8L64mqqwqZNtwvSWtn_k82nn4wvdKc3PIuhg88wBCNnBwRYEcDdkCDObTkY0lcgO2NI1YiFi9CGSUXgzruCOLyBLCDlVuRVp5q_d-h6CJXiHfHmoCi024JLlmf0yx/s1600/IMG_7973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyiu8L4r796lt8L64mqqwqZNtwvSWtn_k82nn4wvdKc3PIuhg88wBCNnBwRYEcDdkCDObTkY0lcgO2NI1YiFi9CGSUXgzruCOLyBLCDlVuRVp5q_d-h6CJXiHfHmoCi024JLlmf0yx/s1600/IMG_7973.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Small kid in a big ol' world. He's ready to take it on!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt2_ATEDa21NBgPvhXu2JbDR5BOuVfNvpJ6Fo6gj8AsiWrubZxuVoQRXXCYk9ky4hzY6JdCRda1ULs2NFIzXD_CLP2ff287YmxXM5n832LSkzszqOs0DDBj5FR5N3UC6h_nL2lmJRj/s1600/IMG_7969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt2_ATEDa21NBgPvhXu2JbDR5BOuVfNvpJ6Fo6gj8AsiWrubZxuVoQRXXCYk9ky4hzY6JdCRda1ULs2NFIzXD_CLP2ff287YmxXM5n832LSkzszqOs0DDBj5FR5N3UC6h_nL2lmJRj/s1600/IMG_7969.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlgNEOnA8-IC8XKVury2gcds_nfqLAeM3mAfc54BY-U3iPTkokW40lk4O7UlimLZvPt1y3rWAtXvlcKkXVM72of5JUFMaJYM6ER2SgniPk1hnyUvBoJPjM5-sQfaovmLTU4e6vkYuL/s1600/IMG_7968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlgNEOnA8-IC8XKVury2gcds_nfqLAeM3mAfc54BY-U3iPTkokW40lk4O7UlimLZvPt1y3rWAtXvlcKkXVM72of5JUFMaJYM6ER2SgniPk1hnyUvBoJPjM5-sQfaovmLTU4e6vkYuL/s1600/IMG_7968.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpTePgtDQS6ruVxUbXK58kwL1wdVU15L2LMsn-_qH2Qp9UIxA2VYZcCG0dRF3kVZdRCeGAgnpvsXk3nSMtNjfPZ3hxjkKh9iQz-Fbn2lznX6qCVFMoZVH8-g5Ah4wyOo_UcxMO7Xk_/s1600/IMG_7909.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpTePgtDQS6ruVxUbXK58kwL1wdVU15L2LMsn-_qH2Qp9UIxA2VYZcCG0dRF3kVZdRCeGAgnpvsXk3nSMtNjfPZ3hxjkKh9iQz-Fbn2lznX6qCVFMoZVH8-g5Ah4wyOo_UcxMO7Xk_/s1600/IMG_7909.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every time he sees a stump he sits down and tries to rest his elbow on his knee. I'm not sure where he got the idea, but he's just sure this is what you do when you sit on a stump. Makes me laugh every time.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCVrs3OpapDiOh-ohFurzjAz7rZmD1lPJbbBI69FGOtQYslCOhMDCpJHkroKNn_DUCSkdW5tsUDvZXBzrrGpcdIoSxzCEJ31yD67AWll-qpm3fQrU-j0NJgWO5jzwC5Vw7QO1QRpUn/s1600/IMG_7945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCVrs3OpapDiOh-ohFurzjAz7rZmD1lPJbbBI69FGOtQYslCOhMDCpJHkroKNn_DUCSkdW5tsUDvZXBzrrGpcdIoSxzCEJ31yD67AWll-qpm3fQrU-j0NJgWO5jzwC5Vw7QO1QRpUn/s1600/IMG_7945.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Going for a hike to a waterfall. Yes, the orange vest is so he doesn't get lost! This boy is fast!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpjpfsf2yfrlvdrBneufFUDLm4CEkWSzCGlMIxIZdhALJfGl3Zm1GH-6svrhcnZDjDMBX2iv06EkkyAyS3s4ibkpSCGVT9W3pdTXr0awJRxudd1g06L16eu9n7OGLGSyFsspZHLGE/s1600/IMG_7915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpjpfsf2yfrlvdrBneufFUDLm4CEkWSzCGlMIxIZdhALJfGl3Zm1GH-6svrhcnZDjDMBX2iv06EkkyAyS3s4ibkpSCGVT9W3pdTXr0awJRxudd1g06L16eu9n7OGLGSyFsspZHLGE/s1600/IMG_7915.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Worn out from building a shelter in camp.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipoIXQGzhGeB0BqnP068MSlT6MUDY6RuwDoV6EUV6-XwnjTXLUvcFuFQaUuIsnMoDSc619Ys21CXy5-S51kAfB8XOKMUKs0es9PgzzYqe9c3rjRxbadvrLcQH2KFArNNG7J8_J4Xvd/s1600/IMG_7916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipoIXQGzhGeB0BqnP068MSlT6MUDY6RuwDoV6EUV6-XwnjTXLUvcFuFQaUuIsnMoDSc619Ys21CXy5-S51kAfB8XOKMUKs0es9PgzzYqe9c3rjRxbadvrLcQH2KFArNNG7J8_J4Xvd/s1600/IMG_7916.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing on big boulders in the Mountains.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvOtXQbVeqRRIrsq5LSrKSsL4Fn_9DdYkLi62jRfrzujryykMrySuniYeAfxYvU_VVzf3ELGfjsO5FfQU0g7broaZAGCs3-ft678LuyqNlR7yweFFdccTDZ4wRkuBL6T8jrR7Q9oDp/s1600/IMG_7893.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvOtXQbVeqRRIrsq5LSrKSsL4Fn_9DdYkLi62jRfrzujryykMrySuniYeAfxYvU_VVzf3ELGfjsO5FfQU0g7broaZAGCs3-ft678LuyqNlR7yweFFdccTDZ4wRkuBL6T8jrR7Q9oDp/s1600/IMG_7893.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gorgeous early summer flowers in the Sawtooth Mountains.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxHexm-aGj5Vq9N-EqCA8Abo5y8GiHsowouPPArPVUkMTcXHKeEHb44naUSgA9MVwZ_-hfrDyqQnnr_Ii1cp6b0AzQBE9TApXQ3ISBfzCA3VJHyk-KjnYlonyMt_d3JMX_MQN4fvGv/s1600/IMG_7896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxHexm-aGj5Vq9N-EqCA8Abo5y8GiHsowouPPArPVUkMTcXHKeEHb44naUSgA9MVwZ_-hfrDyqQnnr_Ii1cp6b0AzQBE9TApXQ3ISBfzCA3VJHyk-KjnYlonyMt_d3JMX_MQN4fvGv/s1600/IMG_7896.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo-bombing Mom's flower photos :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikLQmlbCu3s279pMyoAXeZxp2HCXT1g-Zftelsn6ETzhnltnlv9oXzXDhErc0D62AdZ9B4Knc_wjJ9beNLj1q7XVZaqC8hpvowOihc4rrG0ZUx8Mhs5Ghps2piNCE_TrotDMxbMBJT/s1600/IMG_7878.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikLQmlbCu3s279pMyoAXeZxp2HCXT1g-Zftelsn6ETzhnltnlv9oXzXDhErc0D62AdZ9B4Knc_wjJ9beNLj1q7XVZaqC8hpvowOihc4rrG0ZUx8Mhs5Ghps2piNCE_TrotDMxbMBJT/s1600/IMG_7878.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Campfire memories.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1iw8h8wkxRSu9pfrpo3MIUYK10IQBI-tTu_lj5Hro39xnJw_vF03RRIT6iK-rCGRxd3fMhH1AS5cVaDr8ZotFJXZNNEBMadiBpei60CDHzGyjg2zqqb71O7_3ptk-zxq0Qt_KAfuT/s1600/IMG_7867.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1iw8h8wkxRSu9pfrpo3MIUYK10IQBI-tTu_lj5Hro39xnJw_vF03RRIT6iK-rCGRxd3fMhH1AS5cVaDr8ZotFJXZNNEBMadiBpei60CDHzGyjg2zqqb71O7_3ptk-zxq0Qt_KAfuT/s1600/IMG_7867.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big campfires.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjdbyJVVJZ_5UE-4mMalfPChlw7D1gg7a6J9yflPA8i5OLHJ8SY9HlpetohohbjKqNdekFMl1ewjDmk8lJ0J-iE2EuWfF_mcvGDATXgGwtA7AzK2i8pVfaJN4e7c1vyTmyE02HnkvE/s1600/IMG_7862.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjdbyJVVJZ_5UE-4mMalfPChlw7D1gg7a6J9yflPA8i5OLHJ8SY9HlpetohohbjKqNdekFMl1ewjDmk8lJ0J-iE2EuWfF_mcvGDATXgGwtA7AzK2i8pVfaJN4e7c1vyTmyE02HnkvE/s1600/IMG_7862.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I told him to smile for the camera and he told me to send the picture to Olga. Hi, Olga!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4Cd-97pQU_lxhx7_3FYvC1d5u6WsJ1QP96eYfmpX4tOajOXiL7h8mSk68eIGNYXwPsA3aom0Zfdzj8MYRRUZWBZycqxJi61y0_sPhHtaFB0ra6ZXeks98rA_Y1zD5rdM-hBVbz_q/s1600/IMG_7838.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4Cd-97pQU_lxhx7_3FYvC1d5u6WsJ1QP96eYfmpX4tOajOXiL7h8mSk68eIGNYXwPsA3aom0Zfdzj8MYRRUZWBZycqxJi61y0_sPhHtaFB0ra6ZXeks98rA_Y1zD5rdM-hBVbz_q/s1600/IMG_7838.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who needs a fork?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3wr0IlSuPLRD1G4zIKv7WCi1CDNBEYVJcWzfrF5TM3Kf2R3B0nDpe8fA1JJbxTXV1DBS_4DtD17xLhCwLDFILDopuUtx9CIf-7qLMU2g-laTIzdMqZ7Uo4C-oYMekdqwvaZ_sLzpI/s1600/IMG_7834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3wr0IlSuPLRD1G4zIKv7WCi1CDNBEYVJcWzfrF5TM3Kf2R3B0nDpe8fA1JJbxTXV1DBS_4DtD17xLhCwLDFILDopuUtx9CIf-7qLMU2g-laTIzdMqZ7Uo4C-oYMekdqwvaZ_sLzpI/s1600/IMG_7834.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Attacking a watermelon.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0zsdJwT793M3hZcrApUkw7aWmBNr1RdzkErBXPpNL4GtV36pn-fDzhvT_GehHWeQUJ8pSMq_wgOoKrsTUND6eUEcEjR0_Ix5A7wES2etFkJcRC3K2spazCrEYYFQHvKh5RSz0Az55/s1600/IMG_7823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0zsdJwT793M3hZcrApUkw7aWmBNr1RdzkErBXPpNL4GtV36pn-fDzhvT_GehHWeQUJ8pSMq_wgOoKrsTUND6eUEcEjR0_Ix5A7wES2etFkJcRC3K2spazCrEYYFQHvKh5RSz0Az55/s1600/IMG_7823.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting hugs from big brother when you skin your knee.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW5D1DaCwqCNmYb5ph_4l5ziJe5U5xjn56EN27LipZOWBtAaRZ1S3eGNSRAVn9p3eknsknO1WItBJR0F7iAjNLhyphenhyphenZxjOvzLO-SihhGPkwKIb9zDucDOBy1v8SLUCxChY7dwh3j380i/s1600/IMG_7822.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW5D1DaCwqCNmYb5ph_4l5ziJe5U5xjn56EN27LipZOWBtAaRZ1S3eGNSRAVn9p3eknsknO1WItBJR0F7iAjNLhyphenhyphenZxjOvzLO-SihhGPkwKIb9zDucDOBy1v8SLUCxChY7dwh3j380i/s1600/IMG_7822.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tug-of-war with your big brother and sisters. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZkoIY_rBH6lVc0EsABjgS5Vt6xRnfDMZ63Rc6skATCfWZogGGopSpLkX8Yt82SrASFxjuaUn8rW3o9vv9TKGrHappTPr-8CHYOKIa34GxyFSCZd0R1xlw3ZyDxjfnt_dpFx_5cAE/s1600/IMG_7367.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZkoIY_rBH6lVc0EsABjgS5Vt6xRnfDMZ63Rc6skATCfWZogGGopSpLkX8Yt82SrASFxjuaUn8rW3o9vv9TKGrHappTPr-8CHYOKIa34GxyFSCZd0R1xlw3ZyDxjfnt_dpFx_5cAE/s1600/IMG_7367.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Visiting a fire station and jumping in the firefighters clothes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgurW03c9tTx8JMvrBPD4Th1omOuzkv9NcVA1lx1wb3NUbaRUzmYK96R9_Q8FYyBiNI67bKG_Og2Rk7-Fk9Z95CHfKxnaQ-QftzLMFcV5b3dtD66ezy8eBsWUC6cOb0aCX-vngwFGHB/s1600/IMG_7629.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgurW03c9tTx8JMvrBPD4Th1omOuzkv9NcVA1lx1wb3NUbaRUzmYK96R9_Q8FYyBiNI67bKG_Og2Rk7-Fk9Z95CHfKxnaQ-QftzLMFcV5b3dtD66ezy8eBsWUC6cOb0aCX-vngwFGHB/s1600/IMG_7629.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blowing bubblers on Camping Trip #1</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiduaXvPiXXyE-_kVnoMSJnMvENTUzQTnLAb8rv2iCuVi3Isk8-mPV_e57Li7EGFzIKrSIn6BUZt1HM4s89IOwz-JsE_f6y5Gyy02olGeRntoxf2wTAvAgngFZ-kCXtOi_6-ECPzRps/s1600/IMG_7779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiduaXvPiXXyE-_kVnoMSJnMvENTUzQTnLAb8rv2iCuVi3Isk8-mPV_e57Li7EGFzIKrSIn6BUZt1HM4s89IOwz-JsE_f6y5Gyy02olGeRntoxf2wTAvAgngFZ-kCXtOi_6-ECPzRps/s1600/IMG_7779.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretending to be a dinosaur in the bushes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Our summer has been full and fun and everything it should be. And the best is yet to come! We will soon be off on our first family vacation to the Oregon coast! This will be the first time my kids have ever seen the ocean. I can't wait to see their faces! <div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY3qj8Jj18hyqxDxJTMsVLKdrYV-oznQpKI-SwEULyO3b0i8qW-4kYwQNCgpBoMEdbaAN1e6-H7Q7fbbEo6kC7IcWzgvmqpFw8vY0ZKf3aw2k9ScYU8uRuxyj_cTPAmokQXz7wPrxk/s1600/IMG_8157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY3qj8Jj18hyqxDxJTMsVLKdrYV-oznQpKI-SwEULyO3b0i8qW-4kYwQNCgpBoMEdbaAN1e6-H7Q7fbbEo6kC7IcWzgvmqpFw8vY0ZKf3aw2k9ScYU8uRuxyj_cTPAmokQXz7wPrxk/s1600/IMG_8157.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've been enjoying reading again (yay!). These words of wisdom came from the book <u>This I Believe</u>, a compilation of remarkable people's personal philosophies. Check it out!</td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-87231005021500336532014-03-20T18:24:00.000-06:002014-03-20T18:24:11.107-06:00Happy World Down Syndrome Day!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Tomorrow (3/21) is World Down Syndrome Day. It's held March 21st of each year because Down syndrome is caused by a 3rd copy of the 21st chromosome. It's a day where people across the world celebrate the people they love with Down syndrome, as well as a day to create awareness of the worth of people sporting this extra chromosome.</div>
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Obviously, around here, we love those designer genes and celebrate the every day moments we get to have because of them. In case you were wondering what life with a child with Down syndrome is like, let me give you some hints:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvSIzEPLZnR_9Qk3jrZtjRKip7PlT3ZkSauztpRiDwjcqUA0LJ1MsYPOrp1ZHMlRNXvfu2-zxSfsHCqllthXIzvN3c1riJPdPZOTi7lCKvGkHItCLJTNYynaTBfI_uVw26kLQf6GvT/s1600/IMG_6756.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvSIzEPLZnR_9Qk3jrZtjRKip7PlT3ZkSauztpRiDwjcqUA0LJ1MsYPOrp1ZHMlRNXvfu2-zxSfsHCqllthXIzvN3c1riJPdPZOTi7lCKvGkHItCLJTNYynaTBfI_uVw26kLQf6GvT/s1600/IMG_6756.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7GxQQrxxn62IaMZVuFX8dMR6kGsslqobqRW5jZhrsiQQZD5w52fmuFndUC1KWQzV4xg0K4b7mDxxEpmoze8EBEBokdH9Rcr1qG_1VY2Y5G0bkb7D8rxa7v_DNoaEMXXitjTdFpfyx/s1600/IMG_6761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7GxQQrxxn62IaMZVuFX8dMR6kGsslqobqRW5jZhrsiQQZD5w52fmuFndUC1KWQzV4xg0K4b7mDxxEpmoze8EBEBokdH9Rcr1qG_1VY2Y5G0bkb7D8rxa7v_DNoaEMXXitjTdFpfyx/s1600/IMG_6761.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> You might get a kid that thoughtfully examines things one moment.....and then flashes his most rascally face the next.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjueZPPIRTIbOIyLO1Aoq1-C-j5Ykc5dRHADHhysGqevaHmoqjQZDwS94HrakPZYyuXlz93J1AaCDs2Pxc-TGcRtyEhtOwnncXvbkW4_gWAxeKQFdiPquzwdo1PjodvW16MiUAOM0kP/s1600/IMG_6728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjueZPPIRTIbOIyLO1Aoq1-C-j5Ykc5dRHADHhysGqevaHmoqjQZDwS94HrakPZYyuXlz93J1AaCDs2Pxc-TGcRtyEhtOwnncXvbkW4_gWAxeKQFdiPquzwdo1PjodvW16MiUAOM0kP/s1600/IMG_6728.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Spontaneous dance parties in the most unlikely of places </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">are completely normal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> (This one was at Gabe's cardiology checkup) </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtWx0hbjBtiCohvjchWFtouNbpDY_EL-kjlO1Y2dhHcpZP7YBv70vUmZc9Q0g0IAp3VmxJU5AXh63zmYl5JkPyg9vWI-1prIdoWwWrHa-5c7tg9I3HUm6H6flTH4X3_UjI8o-tArZb/s1600/IMG_6738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtWx0hbjBtiCohvjchWFtouNbpDY_EL-kjlO1Y2dhHcpZP7YBv70vUmZc9Q0g0IAp3VmxJU5AXh63zmYl5JkPyg9vWI-1prIdoWwWrHa-5c7tg9I3HUm6H6flTH4X3_UjI8o-tArZb/s1600/IMG_6738.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgriFnlDKJpUI4YpnZQ_HQplouYV3RXY1xl1UPGOcZvu5PyOe3HPqIP3Nr4sPoJwXTS5h4DZvWu4GF1UmQztE9cd2z209Ga2oB7ILdCYKHI-wlpR68zw_ccCgxYqOnpvkzulVqDds-g/s1600/IMG_6299.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgriFnlDKJpUI4YpnZQ_HQplouYV3RXY1xl1UPGOcZvu5PyOe3HPqIP3Nr4sPoJwXTS5h4DZvWu4GF1UmQztE9cd2z209Ga2oB7ILdCYKHI-wlpR68zw_ccCgxYqOnpvkzulVqDds-g/s1600/IMG_6299.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">They might get inventive...like when your pajama pants don't stay up so you go find a shoelace and fashion a belt for yourself :)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy5NFlhJYeEXMW6vT0zQiqUz6fnILYbVAXOwrH3okjWh0uPqjB3ZMuehHISIR2wsHBFAZLfEoRuLa7x7pHJ9i4qnJYNBkpuiQTOjnaE3McN97QibbKTuB_A7-uqC1RnLAyBKritIml/s1600/IMG_6619.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy5NFlhJYeEXMW6vT0zQiqUz6fnILYbVAXOwrH3okjWh0uPqjB3ZMuehHISIR2wsHBFAZLfEoRuLa7x7pHJ9i4qnJYNBkpuiQTOjnaE3McN97QibbKTuB_A7-uqC1RnLAyBKritIml/s1600/IMG_6619.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">And have I mentioned imagination? Dr. Gabe is always at our service and provides the best care. I hope you won't mind that he has to do his charting on the computer while you get examined.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2-OmouvaxVGo2hK3E3_7DGIXeFysAN2CB86EkD1Hs3cyOTO07txQ8faen198aNVXbpgRUJiLeHrhKvRmv0LQepH_-lPTvTiuy4hyphenhyphen2Tx8n9hTvX44HVcKJEu3Yaz60T8kwTjReGr9B/s1600/IMG_6676.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2-OmouvaxVGo2hK3E3_7DGIXeFysAN2CB86EkD1Hs3cyOTO07txQ8faen198aNVXbpgRUJiLeHrhKvRmv0LQepH_-lPTvTiuy4hyphenhyphen2Tx8n9hTvX44HVcKJEu3Yaz60T8kwTjReGr9B/s1600/IMG_6676.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2kWgPo2fjV0ZpzhZOWTfPNyJWPBmTkF1fPBn479yUg3sISMHhrQ1KDQXHo0HbkLrSBg2mlYrMpgb4Crkq2sIY-IvIJZ09At7ZHDBJxIwjwxQmTBgcOkV8bJ94vQ4iP7y_A6sa1kO1/s1600/IMG_6700.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2kWgPo2fjV0ZpzhZOWTfPNyJWPBmTkF1fPBn479yUg3sISMHhrQ1KDQXHo0HbkLrSBg2mlYrMpgb4Crkq2sIY-IvIJZ09At7ZHDBJxIwjwxQmTBgcOkV8bJ94vQ4iP7y_A6sa1kO1/s1600/IMG_6700.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Brothers with Down syndrome make great lunch dates...</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSybxLTbi6aA5yrnqKkNJrQDS6paI7RvfuJtzpsao3R5aSNeN8ZFnkXHxlsT6tazCT1rjAK0egq-fQ9dBWKrpA9iyYhLAwOWQvqRe4lOkyB66MZ04b9QanpVK0P6B_xbZpUiZv9gr5/s1600/IMG_6769.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSybxLTbi6aA5yrnqKkNJrQDS6paI7RvfuJtzpsao3R5aSNeN8ZFnkXHxlsT6tazCT1rjAK0egq-fQ9dBWKrpA9iyYhLAwOWQvqRe4lOkyB66MZ04b9QanpVK0P6B_xbZpUiZv9gr5/s1600/IMG_6769.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkkGVmcObalHn1tZddvH34CHBMHz4HlHaf-UwaGWCkgkYTEo5K_XEq5pnrFI0eCNwxaEoeo2PsA0gXEBs8x-pcWJe4qF2WLFFZEzvjl1E4Hv4-MWcGbNJcCfSnKl7LDacbYp1J620g/s1600/IMG_6457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkkGVmcObalHn1tZddvH34CHBMHz4HlHaf-UwaGWCkgkYTEo5K_XEq5pnrFI0eCNwxaEoeo2PsA0gXEBs8x-pcWJe4qF2WLFFZEzvjl1E4Hv4-MWcGbNJcCfSnKl7LDacbYp1J620g/s1600/IMG_6457.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">You'll find them sleeping in the cutest of places, like on dad's lap. This may cause dads to have wildly proud grins. </span></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTcXouOUrjZQZxE14wxde_zspwkxJEFKZqOAWwwpaTglWjm0jWcv0Pa_xhoFYosy1FfUaAYWK5h5azXxVyNGPt8RRFHcO5esB4mowpEjfBYZzVlzRyjDvey2ytiuAuZhvkR9mG3AbK/s1600/IMG_2368.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTcXouOUrjZQZxE14wxde_zspwkxJEFKZqOAWwwpaTglWjm0jWcv0Pa_xhoFYosy1FfUaAYWK5h5azXxVyNGPt8RRFHcO5esB4mowpEjfBYZzVlzRyjDvey2ytiuAuZhvkR9mG3AbK/s1600/IMG_2368.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: small;">And you'll find selfies of little feet on your phone that will make you smile.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIHSRVIj6HXHyW1QDt15jomdXLI8RbPqeWxJb_I6l6xU5Q89PNd6IJySdeoV2TWqMZZ4ggIM9o1PmI0ZTSOBMqzMO3XiSd0GkmbPLcPtPoVDiLSGBJAo93KqvLmWEhkGsJsvanmNpv/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage+%252813%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIHSRVIj6HXHyW1QDt15jomdXLI8RbPqeWxJb_I6l6xU5Q89PNd6IJySdeoV2TWqMZZ4ggIM9o1PmI0ZTSOBMqzMO3XiSd0GkmbPLcPtPoVDiLSGBJAo93KqvLmWEhkGsJsvanmNpv/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage+%252813%2529.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: small;">You may get a boy who loves to watch movies with you (as long as there is popcorn involved), and who loves to be silly with the camera, or gives you the "I'm tilting my head because I'm super cute" look. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: small;">You may get notes home from the teachers. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb6KimB0sGI1QjiFcZ8xF34VN10RVGl_VJVyYzyTjoDe4bNeFvdXMoGFagBYPHLPtrO0u3aGjHt774IyrQctVrm5kQHWw_dTUhMf3P8toDZPS7JMo27ISckqj9nLgEdu8ZUjLKWj_V/s1600/IMG_6212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb6KimB0sGI1QjiFcZ8xF34VN10RVGl_VJVyYzyTjoDe4bNeFvdXMoGFagBYPHLPtrO0u3aGjHt774IyrQctVrm5kQHWw_dTUhMf3P8toDZPS7JMo27ISckqj9nLgEdu8ZUjLKWj_V/s1600/IMG_6212.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: small;">Or find out your little Russian, who didn't quite know what to do with a book when you first met him, had a bookworm inside his little body, just waiting to come out :)</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kHTYA529B32m5M2Hk7Ycg3fqAk4zafYqw8P4rixHdNw2YO7Nodkmv-t-R-foa1VzuTYw_VajV6pJfn4_VQ6Am0jhUXNNLNQ93KpEdv4cJrxqTVue-zp8beTG6NKsVXRw7ATt0bPI/s1600/IMG_0004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kHTYA529B32m5M2Hk7Ycg3fqAk4zafYqw8P4rixHdNw2YO7Nodkmv-t-R-foa1VzuTYw_VajV6pJfn4_VQ6Am0jhUXNNLNQ93KpEdv4cJrxqTVue-zp8beTG6NKsVXRw7ATt0bPI/s1600/IMG_0004.JPG" height="299" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf6PRAAPpUNcjHrrWx9LCP4TI-LFjPsiNxf_rNHpMiVFnAqOpBGoV8_XbyakCQns9qcs3VMnspzgR_PFhvOl9aGPkwj1QYTF1Zfi6m3BI3LDHqJuzB8ke-wibsFU2agXQrsZ1nv_P0/s1600/IMG_6350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf6PRAAPpUNcjHrrWx9LCP4TI-LFjPsiNxf_rNHpMiVFnAqOpBGoV8_XbyakCQns9qcs3VMnspzgR_PFhvOl9aGPkwj1QYTF1Zfi6m3BI3LDHqJuzB8ke-wibsFU2agXQrsZ1nv_P0/s1600/IMG_6350.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: small;">You might be lucky enough to feel stung in the heart for a child halfway around the world who needs a mama. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2kmTkB0z8SVjYcmLcfwJeO3_m5q2WhC4IkQ-UZA5NNiIZrrORTbjgtpyzDN0MB9adqIMPzhbFY2V2aazn53aK9jDK8_FppTSDxnDvLNVQ8PEro-nfpM0giah74j20tiM5JURBhLXt/s1600/IMG_6799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2kmTkB0z8SVjYcmLcfwJeO3_m5q2WhC4IkQ-UZA5NNiIZrrORTbjgtpyzDN0MB9adqIMPzhbFY2V2aazn53aK9jDK8_FppTSDxnDvLNVQ8PEro-nfpM0giah74j20tiM5JURBhLXt/s1600/IMG_6799.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: small;">And that little boy may bring you more smiles, more happy tears, more joy than you could ever imagine.</span></td></tr>
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Now, of course, every day isn't rainbows and butterflies around here. We have our fair share of stubbornness, whining, arguing and tears. But isn't that how it is with any child, regardless of the number of chromosomes they have? Yes. And that is my whole point on this World Down Syndrome Day-we are more alike than different. And maybe the thing that sets kids with Down syndrome apart from the rest of us is that special sensitivity they have toward giving and receiving love. In that regard, I wish I were more like them. Happy World Down Syndrome Day!</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-54699760483444984082014-01-12T18:31:00.000-07:002014-01-12T18:31:10.162-07:00For those left behind....<div>
My friend Katrina put this video together to show all of the children that weren't able to come home with their parents from Russia that they are still wanted, loved, and thought of every single day. Katrina was one of many that traveled to Russia, met and bonded with her little girl, then was told all the promises she made had to be broken. Please watch and share, so that in some way, these children will know their mommy's and daddy's didn't forget them and are still praying for some way to bring them home at last. </div>
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If there were ever any doubts about the ability for these kids to bond with their new parents after only one or two trips (two weeks total), this video will prove that theory wrong. </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/dlZMWmZ6TrE?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-22023969077684136332014-01-12T18:09:00.004-07:002014-01-12T18:09:35.007-07:00One Year Ago<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One year ago we arrived in Moscow, Russia, amidst much uncertainty but with optimism to pick up our new son from his orphanage. It was full-on winter in Moscow, a beautiful, snowy, ethereal feeling as we drove and walked the snow covered historical city.</div>
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We consumed any media we could find about the newly enacted adoption ban on Americans. We were buoyed up by photos of protests and outrage at this new sentence thrown down on the most vulnerable of Russia's citizens. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY963N2vrI8EwXUgGhS7Thc8Qy8CcJepJ1-8QbKRBUQPJS5FWsN-JjJl77AmHUFcYQZqiLAHJ4qTQqFHtwZ1osKRrvTIjDG7nK4ytpSvyhAZrIRPVjOrs2EhbOOpA5ogDfPiZ8bjta/s1600/013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY963N2vrI8EwXUgGhS7Thc8Qy8CcJepJ1-8QbKRBUQPJS5FWsN-JjJl77AmHUFcYQZqiLAHJ4qTQqFHtwZ1osKRrvTIjDG7nK4ytpSvyhAZrIRPVjOrs2EhbOOpA5ogDfPiZ8bjta/s640/013.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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We were scared but hopeful when we drove to the courthouse to meet with our judge in a somewhat impromptu meeting regarding our adoption. We thought we would be spared from the ban because the Russian courts had already ruled a month earlier that we were the new legal parents of Artur. </div>
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I will never forget the feeling when our translator/facilitator came out of the courtroom with a look on her face as if someone had died. "Not today...." she said in a tiny voice filled with emotion. The tears came quickly to my eyes, not really knowing how to process her words. </div>
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The next month became a lot of this:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8B8bGi4gxTJg7zCrJSoTDKsdP9JAk6yzSNEyB3D0qzma8d5gx6iIJtAB8ILzBHYVq-GkWqgB-hMJRjRdA2aq_7wPZBMERCocZN639vLgcRwTxEZ8cw9BX1kUFVAwJWuJ28KPGbTjb/s1600/IMG_2393.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8B8bGi4gxTJg7zCrJSoTDKsdP9JAk6yzSNEyB3D0qzma8d5gx6iIJtAB8ILzBHYVq-GkWqgB-hMJRjRdA2aq_7wPZBMERCocZN639vLgcRwTxEZ8cw9BX1kUFVAwJWuJ28KPGbTjb/s640/IMG_2393.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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Every day was a new headline. One day we were sure to be picking up our kids any moment. The next, it was "unlikely" they'd ever get to come home. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig7mFQHD745hDuEREFcQcKTlsuRCBESlVStHj4RSYxwKnSMTqa5Hp1g4Hw_UceIe-vH96A5Ycmi1QLgnC-tPvI1KCkzmaI0auAS-t25L92k_jhaCpUqXH8BfjFPQuD6dMifAqGrOB8/s1600/IMG_2387.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig7mFQHD745hDuEREFcQcKTlsuRCBESlVStHj4RSYxwKnSMTqa5Hp1g4Hw_UceIe-vH96A5Ycmi1QLgnC-tPvI1KCkzmaI0auAS-t25L92k_jhaCpUqXH8BfjFPQuD6dMifAqGrOB8/s640/IMG_2387.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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[Arriving back at our hotel after our meeting with the judge. Finally saying "yes" to the reporters who had been trying to get us to tell our story and give our perspective on the adoption ban. It was our "hail Mary", and it worked.]</div>
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Little did I know just how many people got to see my "ugly cry" (as Oprah would say ;) </div>
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Rather than rehash all the things that went on during that tumultuous month of fighting our way to the Supreme Court, I tend to think more about the beautiful things we experienced during that month. I was fortunate to see Moscow in the fall, when the leaves were burnt orange and flaming red and falling like rain. Then, to see Moscow in winter, I feel like I got to see the heart of Russia, with her blanket of snow making everything feel otherworldly. </div>
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Red Square during a snow storm=winter wonderland. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUchvnuNNklAPPrU1Z19mi_x3Yd0bUAX5AZ9COLh7wJrJ-eJG5zGPlG1qhczi9gG_CNbTX7-YHoPvVdTvarxRuv7f3L5DW81RiDSaxiRca9BNHX3yYKlLJ0FCz2MTqXqT1KSYGjUao/s1600/IMG_2424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUchvnuNNklAPPrU1Z19mi_x3Yd0bUAX5AZ9COLh7wJrJ-eJG5zGPlG1qhczi9gG_CNbTX7-YHoPvVdTvarxRuv7f3L5DW81RiDSaxiRca9BNHX3yYKlLJ0FCz2MTqXqT1KSYGjUao/s640/IMG_2424.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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I still remember this walk so vividly. It was late at night, so the square was almost deserted. Walking under the arch and into the square, St. Basil's Cathedral rose into the sky surrounded by snow flurries which made the light around it so soft and peaceful.</div>
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Jeana and I spent many a day on Red Square and were blessed with this glorious day of sunshine and fresh snow. The sky was a brilliant blue, the snow blindingly white, making the red brick walls and buildings stand out in such a resplendent way. </div>
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How many people get to leave the bubble of their lives and travel to far-off places and immerse themselves in the culture of a people they'd only read about in history books? I am beyond blessed and will always be grateful for this experience. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-32265633807245836942013-11-05T16:18:00.000-07:002013-11-05T16:18:51.855-07:00Fall & HalloweenI am not surprised by it anymore, but it always catches me off guard to have time go by so quickly. I am still planning a post from our trip to Utah and the Hogle Zoo, but I thought I'd quickly post some photos of things we've been enjoying about fall.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10611073594/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0719 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0719" height="640" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7413/10611073594_8a00a9d911_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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Leaves.<br />
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The day after a record-setting rainstorm, I noticed almost all the leaves had fallen from our front trees. In years past, there were never really enough to make a pile for the kids to play in, but this year the wind hadn't carried them away. I asked Gabe if he wanted to come outside with me (silly question-he <i>always</i> wants to be outside). I opened the garage and got out the rake. Gabe was busy on the tricycle so he didn't really notice what I was doing until I had a small pile collected under the tree. He brought his bike over and drove right into the middle of the pile, smiling as he "wrecked" the pile. When he tried to turn and go out of the pile, his bike tipped sideways and he spilled out into the leaves. His face at first looked like he was going to complain or fuss, but he looked at me and saw my look of "what do you think?! Do you like the leaves:!" and he broke out into a big smile and laugh. He then reached down and started grabbing piles of leaves and examining them before tossing them to the side, smiling as he did. Soon Jake, then Kennedy and Leah saw what I was doing and came running out the door at breakneck speed. Well, you know what happened next....<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10610311466/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="IMG_0657 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0657" height="426" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5490/10610311466_cb82a85947_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jake had the rake first, but as soon as Gabe saw what he was doing he kept shouting, "Gabie! Gabie turn!" So Jake gave him a turn.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10613714905/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="IMG_0659 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0659" height="426" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7458/10613714905_f88b7e71b0_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He's taking this job seriously.</td></tr>
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10613698954/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0662 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0662" height="426" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7421/10613698954_be0d68a04c_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10613275956/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0674 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0674" height="640" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3799/10613275956_e5f54f78d3_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10613131016/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="IMG_0680 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0680" height="640" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2811/10613131016_88bc4c5c21_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Notice Jake in the background chasing Gabe to sprinkle leaves on his head. They did this to each other for a while, laughing the whole time. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10613177904/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="IMG_0684 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0684" height="426" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7367/10613177904_e4ab881c66_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Once in a while he would just crouch down to examine the leaves, so interested in everything around him.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10610319715/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="IMG_0687 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0687" height="640" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3700/10610319715_c242cdeffe_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jake did a lot of this.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10611444776/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="IMG_0698 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0698" height="640" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3807/10611444776_a0685a3732_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And this.</td></tr>
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10611284906/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0710 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0710" height="426" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5542/10611284906_871932c17c_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10611398373/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="IMG_0716 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0716" height="426" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7459/10611398373_093b5a39cb_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Gabe! Let's kick our feet!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Get ready...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10610888784/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="IMG_0759 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0759" height="426" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3832/10610888784_d413b61ec5_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jump...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10610856756/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="IMG_0760 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0760" height="426" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7340/10610856756_fe36359ec8_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Land!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10610382354/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="IMG_0766 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0766" height="426" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7366/10610382354_a67b94e858_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leah's turn.</td></tr>
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Halloween.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10610401465/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0802 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0802" height="426" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7346/10610401465_b381c24aa7_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I took the kids shopping for Halloween costumes a couple weeks ago. Jake was determined to be a pirate, and I found a great pirate hat & patch on Darlybird for a great price and snatched it up. Of course we had to have a sword, so that's what we were after on this trip. But lo and behold, on Halloween Jake changed his mind and didn't want to be a pirate anymore. He wanted to be Ironmna like Gabe. But when we couldn't find his Ironman costume from last year we threw together a cowboy outfit for him. Leah wanted to be a princess (surprise), and Kennedy wanted to be a Native American. Gabe was just excited to be looking at all the dress ups, since that's another of his favorite things to do. When we spotted an Ironman costume with muscles built into it, he grabbed it and declared it his. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10610462435/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="IMG_0795 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0795" height="640" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7363/10610462435_305b605450_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My tough cowboy. Too tough for a proper photo, I guess.</td></tr>
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I wish I had a photo of Gabe's face when we got home and I put the costume on him to see if it fit right,. He took one look at those muscles on his arms and chest and just beamed! He made a big monster pose to show off his muscles and ran through the house growling and being tough. He felt like such a big kid with all that extra muscle! His costume came with gloves and a mask, and as soon as he slipped on the gloves he was holding his arms out straight, palms forward, to shoot his laser beams at me. <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10610526406/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0794 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0794" height="640" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2808/10610526406_284af0c04a_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My princess.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10610536435/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="IMG_0791 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0791" height="640" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7359/10610536435_2f6bca371b_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where did she get such gorgeous blond hair? Thank you to whichever ancestor gifted it to her :-)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10610716556/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="IMG_0781 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0781" height="426" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5523/10610716556_4a11dc211e_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of course a picture of all of them looking at the camera with eyes open and a smile is impossible...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/10610624435/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="IMG_0784 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0784" height="426" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3737/10610624435_a014506fdb_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But these are all I was able to snap before we left to go trick-or-treating!</td></tr>
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We spent Halloween night with great friends from the neighborhood. The men took the kids trick-or-treating while we girls baked pizzas and got ready for the troops to come home with their candy. They came running through the door an hour and a half later with bags full of candy and smiles as wide as the sky. Gabe was so excited to tell me all about it and show me his candy. Brian said he was so much fun to watch. He always ran out ahead of the other kids to get to the next door first. When the people would open their doors, he would poke his head inside their house to look around. He was especially happy when they had a dog. What fun memories for Gabe.<br />
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The other kids of course had a great time too, and quickly dumped their candy out in piles to compare and trade some. Now I have to figure out how to ration all this candy! <br />
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We have been loving fall, the cooler weather, and especially the colors of the trees and the leaves falling. I'll be sad when they're all gone and winter arrives. I don't like to be cold! I'm so thankful we have a cozy little house and a warm fireplace to snuggle by for the cold and dark winter. I do hope we get enough snow this year for Gabe to play in and build a snowman with me. It is such a blessing and honor to watch this boy experience so many "firsts" this year. It feels like Gabe has always been a part of our family; he just fits. Sure we have our struggles still, but they are getting less and less, and when I think back to those first couple of months home they seem like nothing at all. I feel 100% that he is mine. My love for him has grown immeasurably the past 7 months, and I am happy to know it will only keep growing. <br />
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Happy Fall!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-60462184899052556152013-09-08T23:35:00.001-06:002013-09-08T23:41:56.462-06:00Be the Change<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQuZ2x1Jzl33zLDMRT1ccL5UWXUvXY21RG2ReCt0iE-x2EmueFZatPMPXmt2xFQMg39QkcYrHAEdkscnWrKBorb5Ty9zw772J3N_MxP65CyNU_otoCkToYDaMIl7LQgV9E3LIuXMs6/s640/blogger-image-1189122001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQuZ2x1Jzl33zLDMRT1ccL5UWXUvXY21RG2ReCt0iE-x2EmueFZatPMPXmt2xFQMg39QkcYrHAEdkscnWrKBorb5Ty9zw772J3N_MxP65CyNU_otoCkToYDaMIl7LQgV9E3LIuXMs6/s640/blogger-image-1189122001.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div>I received an email from dear Olga the other day with photos that made me smile so big and well up with tears of joy, hope, love, thankfulness. <div><br></div><div>These were taken in August at the charitable organization Down Side Up's annual Charity Sport's bike ride in aid of children with Down syndrome. </div><div><br></div><div>The goals of the ride are to show the great potential of people with DS (many of the riders themselves had DS), to raise money for early intervention services for children with DS, and to raise awareness about Down syndrome. Awesome!! </div><div><br></div><div>From Olga and Downsideup.org/en</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv2ovoRZe_LHfASi32SkHJGTnVminZEHhg5-8wJ520ZDeOOVLxeq0n_TKAZShOppkpIbiHnx4Id_Kr2QkauJQhANomWhu-4l49nZd2CwOq7AVWyBQf88ACSKJjfdN9vubkWait_R8h/s640/blogger-image-1849388374.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv2ovoRZe_LHfASi32SkHJGTnVminZEHhg5-8wJ520ZDeOOVLxeq0n_TKAZShOppkpIbiHnx4Id_Kr2QkauJQhANomWhu-4l49nZd2CwOq7AVWyBQf88ACSKJjfdN9vubkWait_R8h/s640/blogger-image-1849388374.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDHk0WAob0LKkC4D6P9Dvmq-bLkSwzIdaeD4k9JIemwdYV3c8LdJeyvWAkfHBXY6lmu6B8XKfspWqZtSQLPvp5ed9ZxQxIAcb_HzQyDa27sD0iQzDnt-oq3ZpuwD8LeA_ULTdqHwSm/s640/blogger-image-811634993.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDHk0WAob0LKkC4D6P9Dvmq-bLkSwzIdaeD4k9JIemwdYV3c8LdJeyvWAkfHBXY6lmu6B8XKfspWqZtSQLPvp5ed9ZxQxIAcb_HzQyDa27sD0iQzDnt-oq3ZpuwD8LeA_ULTdqHwSm/s640/blogger-image-811634993.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">There were famous top athletes from Russia present to show their support. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUIZWTHwNyCChcAiDz50kMqlzYGyI3UCqKZLWpjG5jXkt6iwU9QCNe3N72Eb9-RSxhPyJqISzaMWUteapzvE9PoSZ21x8jKQSB1r4UjYF2bY1BSYhqmAYnrqHQYEIzV8rWziXUnnf2/s640/blogger-image-195724974.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUIZWTHwNyCChcAiDz50kMqlzYGyI3UCqKZLWpjG5jXkt6iwU9QCNe3N72Eb9-RSxhPyJqISzaMWUteapzvE9PoSZ21x8jKQSB1r4UjYF2bY1BSYhqmAYnrqHQYEIzV8rWziXUnnf2/s640/blogger-image-195724974.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMaf6iOL_g9RHFIOFPhxS5t-vdRqf4vs3K7fYycrNWV9evBYSHo-8G4ANFbhPxO-RqVwF89BnvmYCbj60lJIf3IqqGmZqj2j70ql5DStlch3C3DtHiibhW5IfDQlm1L724Ve2XzMNJ/s640/blogger-image-1533232877.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6tCFpQZIo3WeVelK5Owlh-44ScgE5lfFJSRoEAGk595gOKwJRcgwYwl3vbrhbfNp6zaICNPBfHkqKPxBDIdxys_BGCQ_vC3a7X_vGlwsPpClhMB2Obdsk58I9HDZ7Dj9RRG9eQUP-/s640/blogger-image-291216409.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAmWr0080Sf4pP1LcNzDDywJYrQ3josOuePQ6ujsQhZQ3UKxdyP1yTtewqjjLjPVLaNtlBcYd4WQyq3VUXcxezjDEEfDGmMsajjAlksjl2qcnhFl5jWhLpO2a4elrdmimAsbSUorgk/s640/blogger-image-1088992755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAmWr0080Sf4pP1LcNzDDywJYrQ3josOuePQ6ujsQhZQ3UKxdyP1yTtewqjjLjPVLaNtlBcYd4WQyq3VUXcxezjDEEfDGmMsajjAlksjl2qcnhFl5jWhLpO2a4elrdmimAsbSUorgk/s640/blogger-image-1088992755.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So sweet. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDjQ-y5UQKJEjMpoud2eSJxEMGG8DmkAdo6j8sFnOdYcgezN4MW7Iiv_qLt6zvWm7PhoNJi4wypTUoBgiUiB3JCY4XfnpXInNQmASHoCd_wLdIt2bEoW_mhDQyzk4kOdk681uInknA/s640/blogger-image-1511227568.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDjQ-y5UQKJEjMpoud2eSJxEMGG8DmkAdo6j8sFnOdYcgezN4MW7Iiv_qLt6zvWm7PhoNJi4wypTUoBgiUiB3JCY4XfnpXInNQmASHoCd_wLdIt2bEoW_mhDQyzk4kOdk681uInknA/s640/blogger-image-1511227568.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">There is something so beautiful and hopeful to me in this photo, seeing this take place in front of the Kremlin. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07dGZJT0ZQN47fnvZ2OOo1wjwtsqDni_JfJ7umyxWeGjl6ChWPhYhb9t0kJnggTRn-hEXqz7TZuQwBtz-L6PJ9zVjFSbA_9UwrPOPYppJPk84j14EJ2ACs-6MbHo2O31GBUxRCAlM/s640/blogger-image-743227151.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07dGZJT0ZQN47fnvZ2OOo1wjwtsqDni_JfJ7umyxWeGjl6ChWPhYhb9t0kJnggTRn-hEXqz7TZuQwBtz-L6PJ9zVjFSbA_9UwrPOPYppJPk84j14EJ2ACs-6MbHo2O31GBUxRCAlM/s640/blogger-image-743227151.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5KW4EnR7372-gcuW9K1gZyBvlDq9oAN_XYXlEQo3KBeqDtMbb6K5LEEOjzfAK2FQgFf8l5yOHufkOatmRtRkuCrxkxOeQMwVTXMlvvC9IqUjfDGQ4s6_uoRu42ivowOz5_sPT39CB/s640/blogger-image--1217320064.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5KW4EnR7372-gcuW9K1gZyBvlDq9oAN_XYXlEQo3KBeqDtMbb6K5LEEOjzfAK2FQgFf8l5yOHufkOatmRtRkuCrxkxOeQMwVTXMlvvC9IqUjfDGQ4s6_uoRu42ivowOz5_sPT39CB/s640/blogger-image--1217320064.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFBVWIHC_W0XDYJAIGf2hN82Et_7-15O1CFqFRTU7MmpAVpJ_EYbNQFxSIKLDaNOv4UhWFr3PjzwoojEo7vythcBseiS2rW6_woWzsmv8cS8ffKXRnIuXSOh0Y2XMgPNFHMxEtFOL3/s640/blogger-image-1837857363.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFBVWIHC_W0XDYJAIGf2hN82Et_7-15O1CFqFRTU7MmpAVpJ_EYbNQFxSIKLDaNOv4UhWFr3PjzwoojEo7vythcBseiS2rW6_woWzsmv8cS8ffKXRnIuXSOh0Y2XMgPNFHMxEtFOL3/s640/blogger-image-1837857363.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Something I love about kids with Down syndrome is how, even though they definitely look like their own biological families, they also share these unique facial characteristics that make them part of a recognizable worldwide family-the Down syndrome family. I think that's why people who love someone with DS are so automatically drawn to complete strangers they see with Down syndrome-because they feel like family. When I am out with the boys and I see another child or adult with Down syndrome and glance at their parent, as soon as we make eye contact there's this smile and understanding that passes between us, like seeing an old friend after years apart. I love it and consider it one of the many blessings of having a child with Down syndrome. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I have no doubt that one day Russia will be as inclusive and accepting and accommodating to people with not only Down syndrome, but all disabilities. These organizations are the pioneers of this movement, and it is exciting to be able to witness. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">“If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. ... We need not wait to see what others do.” - Gandhi</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div></div><br></div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-21771693417823143472013-09-07T07:29:00.001-06:002013-09-07T07:29:51.391-06:00In The Night<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguKmZXgB-Pbs75smlQtSV_K_wbnlYC17qwHUh-vDeoZVwQxmy729JFlRlc_1TvOhD99PhF-NQ0QITgGGl3vpohXEKJ61DbyD5DkZ594ja4Mi8qHWy-r7TGdEqnbKYYDbOxGva2TON3/s640/blogger-image-569593861.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWg4ea_EUweFE-iCl1mg-dxP3gFQg3owpj4dPkG0U6O_hhTDRakGwQy7FkRaDYHuAUOQEBuoiO7JcQ5nBI-qgcqNHlmDvIKMoUTG_NFg8C0t-NMO9d_PV9yYkHImuYiABp-pI6gOQ9/s640/blogger-image-638499908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWg4ea_EUweFE-iCl1mg-dxP3gFQg3owpj4dPkG0U6O_hhTDRakGwQy7FkRaDYHuAUOQEBuoiO7JcQ5nBI-qgcqNHlmDvIKMoUTG_NFg8C0t-NMO9d_PV9yYkHImuYiABp-pI6gOQ9/s640/blogger-image-638499908.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">As I lay here in my bed this early morning, I again have some of the same overwhelming feelings I have had many, many times since our adoption story began. The feelings come when I wake in the night for unknown reasons, or after I've been awoken by one of the kids coming to snuggle. They are strong, full-bodied and difficult to put words to, but I will try:</div></div><div><br></div><div>HUMBLENESS</div><div><br></div><div>GRATITUDE</div><div><br></div><div>JOY</div><div><br></div><div>AWE</div><div><br></div><div>WONDER</div><div><br></div><div>You see, in those quiet moments where there are no distractions, my thoughts often turn to YOU. Those people who prayed this boy home from Russia, those people who so generously and humbly donated their hard-earned money to help us get to this point of completeness in our lives. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ3VCDIJAlZ1zTr7Pz24VG-jZfSm8sVASW1NqgQG9n1VWXR_Bdy8zKW1Zki9wYvl7v25_KpTx-tt4w1XHdY5arNvqVqqku2DtDq1ao6kMWBmpBCwp3IUSMwY-8oe5za4bOScb4Z-Tm/s640/blogger-image-1368157281.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ3VCDIJAlZ1zTr7Pz24VG-jZfSm8sVASW1NqgQG9n1VWXR_Bdy8zKW1Zki9wYvl7v25_KpTx-tt4w1XHdY5arNvqVqqku2DtDq1ao6kMWBmpBCwp3IUSMwY-8oe5za4bOScb4Z-Tm/s640/blogger-image-1368157281.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I play over and over in my mind not only the general feelings but specific events that all add up to INCREDIBLE and MIRACULOUS. Envelopes left at our door anonymously. Letters and gifts sent in the mail by people we've never even met. Friends who, upon reading our situation of having to stay weeks extra in Moscow, quietly send their support in the most generous of ways. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSsrveGxcSatTsPQ2QDqsN-1tTDoQTSH1xyDxaz1oPw65sq-RiBLUEjibyY-CG2-ZSwuuUwqbsK16_n3sJVsL1zlcJ0iyj89yNJRN5Irbt9dlykeaNQP4UmeVRa-RXMCYmtbsWMW36/s640/blogger-image--92817669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSsrveGxcSatTsPQ2QDqsN-1tTDoQTSH1xyDxaz1oPw65sq-RiBLUEjibyY-CG2-ZSwuuUwqbsK16_n3sJVsL1zlcJ0iyj89yNJRN5Irbt9dlykeaNQP4UmeVRa-RXMCYmtbsWMW36/s640/blogger-image--92817669.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I think of that incredible woman and mother who spoke up to spread the word about "Arnold," writing a whole blog series about his situation and sounding the call across the Internet that there was this boy, tiny and special, who needed a family, who deserved so much more than the future ahead of him. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM279gDsgfEP3pCoD-wDjI6D82Y-9HRCHRo9fZgRt3YHiSHf5_BemLZ-CSQEF7oi9F9mowtH-6nqJYh57yxpdbuEV3lg2hRecxFyk2WWTWWW2QyAvmcUUX3cqPX93yruDKtxSr1fK9/s640/blogger-image--1513821444.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM279gDsgfEP3pCoD-wDjI6D82Y-9HRCHRo9fZgRt3YHiSHf5_BemLZ-CSQEF7oi9F9mowtH-6nqJYh57yxpdbuEV3lg2hRecxFyk2WWTWWW2QyAvmcUUX3cqPX93yruDKtxSr1fK9/s640/blogger-image--1513821444.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Because of her, another mother saw and made an unthinkably large donation to his adoption grant. Again, I can only imagine what that must have felt like for her, to mail that check and hopefully know that it would mean the difference between fear and certainty for this family to step out and say "we can do this." </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujYXsvPDTaZ-DYb0QCEPkbsWLq2D4eNIfUtSuoyAwA3ezna8NI6JvHGRjK3p4xbaeN80qUbLYuCbEfnJaALTlArQwMs9sBPT4q_WjjhGHkVXOTj8pY2YIaa9fSsoJdczwQXR-rnGu/s640/blogger-image-1259960191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujYXsvPDTaZ-DYb0QCEPkbsWLq2D4eNIfUtSuoyAwA3ezna8NI6JvHGRjK3p4xbaeN80qUbLYuCbEfnJaALTlArQwMs9sBPT4q_WjjhGHkVXOTj8pY2YIaa9fSsoJdczwQXR-rnGu/s640/blogger-image-1259960191.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I think of those first few weeks after announcing our intention to adopt, and almost immediately friends asking us, "how can we help? We know this is expensive and we want to do something." I think of that yard sale, OH that yard sale. I still look at those photos of tables upon tables of donated items, many from friends, acquaintances, and some even from strangers who quickly became new friends. That day was a perfect storm of goodness. There were envelopes again in those early days, left by friends who wanted no recognition, just desiring to do what they could to help this child find a family. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCU0WSbVEguvB9mTq8mZvoezVRrnR31iGrmz0HXXksZLaxBFtac8nhQ2vvSXsHfYvzwH7y6cK8jI9QD4aGXY9KmKet6bqMjA-PRiHL90i8DzRaDKfSkOr0xOVoIqbeC-gyZqlunk3/s640/blogger-image--310475738.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCU0WSbVEguvB9mTq8mZvoezVRrnR31iGrmz0HXXksZLaxBFtac8nhQ2vvSXsHfYvzwH7y6cK8jI9QD4aGXY9KmKet6bqMjA-PRiHL90i8DzRaDKfSkOr0xOVoIqbeC-gyZqlunk3/s640/blogger-image--310475738.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I think of the playhouse fundraiser started by a woman who had never even met us and another who had only just become a new friend. Hours upon hours of phone calls, painting, hammering, coordination, selling tickets, all while caring for their small children at home. I knew there were people like this in the world, but having them so close to me was astonishing and humbling to watch. And how blessed I was to get to know these women better, to laugh so hard together I cried, and then having tears later just thinking about their generosity.</div><div> </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHIO6thE3NCCkdvokK_C-lOlIyZE5qlr9SB7adUBG-jY5tiXpm5imjvNagxOGYWh7BWQq7mp1M4IwvirQtMl3zrfFqtrpTawhTZCLQTG68lSkdh6XREuT86hQn2xzAuUd-8Xx-MRnB/s640/blogger-image--105173379.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHIO6thE3NCCkdvokK_C-lOlIyZE5qlr9SB7adUBG-jY5tiXpm5imjvNagxOGYWh7BWQq7mp1M4IwvirQtMl3zrfFqtrpTawhTZCLQTG68lSkdh6XREuT86hQn2xzAuUd-8Xx-MRnB/s640/blogger-image--105173379.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I think of each and every one of you, those I know and those I will never know because of your anonymity. I want you to know that it is often you I think about in those rare quiet moments. And I know it will always be this way for the rest of my life, for I have never witnessed so many miracles, so much GOOD, in my life and I realize it is a rare and very special gift to have witnessed. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU-QRT69Ydv6mkf5YvY8_wgIb8tr3gsXNNxk0XoMOkxOhY8zHIe_csO_d9O8tyIG-wDfdqGscqb63gk0Pf1T8wUS-0fgRjSi268XTbNPU12hHEK9xYSkDDZZe0EHlzAWJd456S90MW/s640/blogger-image-1918809698.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU-QRT69Ydv6mkf5YvY8_wgIb8tr3gsXNNxk0XoMOkxOhY8zHIe_csO_d9O8tyIG-wDfdqGscqb63gk0Pf1T8wUS-0fgRjSi268XTbNPU12hHEK9xYSkDDZZe0EHlzAWJd456S90MW/s640/blogger-image-1918809698.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>It is because of you that I took an opportunity to travel to Africa, with such a desire to physically make a difference in another persons life. It is because of you that I have made donations to other adoptive families, no matter the size, because I KNOW how $5.00 feels like $5,000.00 when you are in the thick of things. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAm4V5fBIUYrDHXlrq8eHO565P-8PAOviFkzlHQacrwrvQoM0rZLG3uoS6jdn0lVo-szHd4bvO5lAKY8_GWz8F2LTJVWLp5TbF2d2LcFyGEXWpTOnF_EsEqtn6ETkMpyGo1Uzl-TXT/s640/blogger-image--184484514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAm4V5fBIUYrDHXlrq8eHO565P-8PAOviFkzlHQacrwrvQoM0rZLG3uoS6jdn0lVo-szHd4bvO5lAKY8_GWz8F2LTJVWLp5TbF2d2LcFyGEXWpTOnF_EsEqtn6ETkMpyGo1Uzl-TXT/s640/blogger-image--184484514.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I think of you. And I just wanted you to know. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTf6BEWlDNnzek7peVx1INa6bsC59znmxSHZ6mqBQCD2Mm-uldQENUAa1KbgAuk2tn88cytaAKpfEWNAd6JhmSffsCd6Oaw7fxnR7Ht6MLaQyUf-MefOk8MoWEmKxfKAukCsrAYjUt/s640/blogger-image--1181295087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTf6BEWlDNnzek7peVx1INa6bsC59znmxSHZ6mqBQCD2Mm-uldQENUAa1KbgAuk2tn88cytaAKpfEWNAd6JhmSffsCd6Oaw7fxnR7Ht6MLaQyUf-MefOk8MoWEmKxfKAukCsrAYjUt/s640/blogger-image--1181295087.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-70857493719612439692013-09-06T17:34:00.001-06:002013-09-06T17:34:14.456-06:00First Day of SchoolWhen we decided seven years ago (has it already been that long?!) to move here from Utah, I was torn. I had always wanted to strike out on our own and see different parts of the country, even if it wasn't very far from home. But part of me was so sad about raising our kids away from their extended family. I was always blessed to have cousins and grandparents nearby, and I had always looked forward to watching my kids love that experience too. <br />
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After Jake was born, just a few months after we were settled in, and we discovered the many services available here for him relating to his Down syndrome, I knew this was a big reason why this move felt right even in the face of my torn feelings. When Jake began kindergarten and got in to his charter school by a hair (they have a lottery to determine who gets to enroll each year; he was first on the waiting list after the drawing, and luckily for us, another family decided to not enroll and he got their place), it didn't take long to realize this was yet another confirmation that we were in the right place. His school is amazing, outstanding, a perfect fit for both Jake and Kennedy. </div>
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So when we decided to adopt Gabe, I took great comfort in the fact that he would be going to this school too. The teachers were completely on board with us and have been nothing but supportive and enthusiastic. They made preparations and plans for him before he was even home. We have absolutely struck gold when it comes to the people that have been put in our lives to help our children. </div>
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<i>Anyway</i>, I wasn't great at taking a lot of photos the first day of school because we were busy! I drove the kids that first week to make the transition a bit easier (for me, mostly :-). Gabe now rides the bus and does great on it. It makes me smile every morning to watch Kennedy help him up that first big step onto the bus. He's the tiniest kindergartener ever!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Me?! Me?! School?!" He just couldn't contain the excitement.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/9687107629/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="IMG_5045 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5045" height="640" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3687/9687107629_7bc6733d55_c.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh hey, you're my teacher huh? Nice to meet you!" <br />
Mrs. G meets Gabe and Jake each morning, making sure they get to the right places. She is also one of their amazing teachers. I tell you, we are incredibly blessed.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The school gang. I guess I have a thing with plaid shorts.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kennedy being the great big sister, as always. These boys don't know how lucky they are to have a big sister like Kennedy. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gabe jumping up and down when he sees the buses in the distance. This kid LOVES the bus. I love the looks on the other kids' faces, "who IS this kid?!"<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After I picked him up that first day. He was so tired! He has a nap every afternoon after he gets home from school now. It's been a nice routine coming home and having lunch together then reading a book and tucking him in.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/9687266215/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="gabe bus 1 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="gabe bus 1" height="480" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3681/9687266215_86e7bba66d.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for the bus the second week of school.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of course he has to make a face (oh the naughty things his big brother is teaching him).</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/9687267237/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Gabe bus 4 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="Gabe bus 4" height="480" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3806/9687267237_47319073e3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He gets the first seat behind the driver and knows just what to do now. <br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">
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Today was the first day I got to go in and volunteer in his class. I get to do that once a month (at back-to-school we got to sign up, and every single day is now filled with a parent who will be in class helping out. His school has such great parent support too). It was so comforting and reassuring to watch him in class and see how far he has come in just a few weeks. He knows right where his "cubby" is, where he puts his papers and back pack. He follows directions and isn't yelling and being too loud like I had worried :-) He is happy and smiling and is a hard worker for his teachers. My favorite part was hearing him say, "Mom! Watch!" as he did his work and was so proud to have me see. <div>
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We are just blessed.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-66286374086306683262013-08-19T21:46:00.001-06:002013-08-19T21:46:53.607-06:00No Words<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfITn2V8_MOH9cZw8ztd9vnSJzACp8f_RB_rLUxNSD_7xzb-njw6MdyP-1pJeMQ-CGAAt1JuazFLCaY7pPPhOKKn23FxybPkbg5MAk-gTI45S8BzQe6zJ7xGpsSn9aJLFVrDzWedNF/s640/blogger-image-1427263578.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfITn2V8_MOH9cZw8ztd9vnSJzACp8f_RB_rLUxNSD_7xzb-njw6MdyP-1pJeMQ-CGAAt1JuazFLCaY7pPPhOKKn23FxybPkbg5MAk-gTI45S8BzQe6zJ7xGpsSn9aJLFVrDzWedNF/s640/blogger-image-1427263578.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>This photo shows an orphan in Russia. On the left is his public database photo from several years ago when he was a baby. On the right is his updated photo. </div><div><br></div><div>There are no words. He is banging his head against his crib to self stimulate because he is in his crib all day long. The only time he gets any human interaction is when his diaper is changed once per day. His skin is becoming wrinkled from malnutrition. His eyes haunt me. There are several children in his same region who had families in the U.S. officially matched to them, now awaiting transfer to this institution. Some have been to this institution and that is how I know these things about it. Not all institutions are horrendous like this one. But some are. Too many are. Tonight I don't need to go into the reasons why, or talk about poverty or unequal allocation of government monies. Tonight all I want to shout to the world is to look at Kyle's face and pray for him, pray for all of them. </div><div><br></div><div>There are more like him, in Russia, so many more, now with little to no hope left. How can I make such a sweeping statement? Based on the fact that Gabe was only the third child with Down syndrome <i>ever</i> to be adopted in Moscow, a city of over 10 million people. We were told this by the Department of Education. The other two were Jeana's beautiful girl and another friend of mine who adopted only a few months before us. And if Moscow is the most modern and wealthiest of Russia's cities, it isn't hard to guess how the orphans in the poorer, rural regions are faring. </div><div><br></div><div>Kyle had a family here who saw his baby photo on the database and fell in love. They were close to beginning their home study to make him a member of their family when the ban took effect. <br><div><br></div><div>Please pray for these children. </div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-72870051684795429692013-08-01T15:41:00.000-06:002013-08-01T15:41:49.145-06:00A Celebration Five Years in the Making<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It's your day, Gabriel Artur Preece. For five long years, without even knowing it, you have waited to celebrate the day of your birth with your mother, your father, with a family who cherishes you. It's your day.</div>
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We put up the "Happy Birthday" banner, we blew up the balloons, you laughed and giggled every time Jake would shout "happy birthday, Gabriel Artur Preece!" I wasn't quite sure if you remembered what "birthday" meant, although you have seen each of your siblings have their birthday celebrations since you joined us on Valentine's Day. But when daddy finally got home, and friends gathered, and a candle was lit on a special cake, it dawned on you....</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not a big fan of cakes...what's the big deal?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hey, they're all singing to <i>me!</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm special, I'm loved, I'm <i>celebrated</i>.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> I'm going to blow out that big number 5 candle with all my might.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And then I'm going to ask my dad to light it five more times...</td></tr>
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I should have asked someone else to take photos, because I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't take as many photos as I wanted. So many thoughts ran through my head. Thinking back to the day you were born, in a hospital thousands of miles away, in Moscow, Russia, to a mother who felt like she couldn't raise you. I wonder what she was going through as she signed away her maternal rights, handing you over to the nurses and saying good-bye? As a mother, I can't imagine a world where she wasn't experiencing anguish, despair, hopelessness at the thought of leaving that hospital without her baby, never to see you again until that cold winter day when she came to say a final goodbye to you at the orphanage. If she could only see you now! Her sacrifice, her anguish, became a special gift to our family. The pain of that thought is never lost on me, and I will always be grateful to her for wanting more for you.</div>
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In true birthday fashion, you were served your cake and ice cream first. Of course, you didn't touch the cake, but you had three servings of ice cream. You <i>love</i> ice cream. You sat with joy, surrounded by friends who love you, and eating ice cream to your heart's content.</div>
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Then it was time for presents. You didn't seem to remember this part, or at least that there were more than just one gift, because when you opened the flashlight you tossed the paper aside and seemed perfectly content that this was your only gift. You have so much to teach us.</div>
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/9332920002/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0029 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0029" height="427" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5485/9332920002_78423366d8_c.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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But the kids convinced you to stick around for the rest of the presents. </div>
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Mom and Dad got you a tool set, since you're always going around the house with a pretend hammer saying "dub dub" for the pounding noise it makes. </div>
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The shovel was also a big hit, but you were curious about the box everyone else was so excited about. You didn't know what a slip n' slide was, but I knew you would love it.</div>
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Your big brother had to show you the finer points of the toy airport your grandma gave you.</div>
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It didn't take long for you to decide you loved it too.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(remember that little playhouse in the background? Big smiles)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I bought you this shirt at the last minute because when I saw it I just knew how handsome you'd look in it. I love your soft brown skin so much.</td></tr>
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You went to bed so quickly that night, spent from the day's excitement. As I rubbed your little head to sleep, I reflected on just what miraculous changes you've made since coming into our lives. I thought about those 32 days I spent in Moscow, fighting for you and your future. That feels like a dream now, another life, but there are still moments it comes rushing back in big waves and I still can't figure out why we were so blessed at every turn in that ordeal, while 300 other kids are still trapped, having met their new parents and now sit wondering why they haven't come back for them. Your life every single day is a testament to the rightness of international adoption. I hope you will always be a beacon and light for the world to see that when it comes to love, there are no borders.</div>
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The day after your birthday we pulled out the slip n' slide, and sure enough, you were squealing with joy as soon as the water started squirting across the plastic. All it took was one run-and-slide by Kennedy and you knew just what to do. Pure. Joy.</div>
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/9332808452/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0063 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0063" height="427" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5445/9332808452_794494798f_c.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I asked you if you like it, if you were having fun...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yep.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just lounging with the girls...this is a rough life :-)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What summer day would be complete without popsicles? </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just hanging out, getting sprinkled on, you know.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jake, the lizard basking in the sun on the slide.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soon friends joined us and it was fun times five.</td></tr>
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/9329858091/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0184 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0184" height="427" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5448/9329858091_a0bc42e266_c.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They forgot to slide :-)</td></tr>
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/preece/9362794234/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0180 by beckynkennedy, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0180" height="427" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7407/9362794234_4eae11e4da_c.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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There you are, enjoying your popsicle on a warm chair, not a care in the world, just as it should be.</div>
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Happy birthday Gabriel, my little Russian miracle.</div>
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Love,</div>
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Mom</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-61245687237145387112013-05-26T21:58:00.000-06:002013-05-26T21:58:26.763-06:00Then and Now<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgol_u4cl8gLxsEouAD29qpukLiZjtEuljhK9nkwDH5Pq2LmEDpClwF_QOXQwfunmj4ryRyKu_9xUEmuD_v7ZxELGDEWyLk9yCY_m5EE2TlhUMJEU349mFllpiCjcW0iuwLKEeUFvGL/s1600/IMG_4404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgol_u4cl8gLxsEouAD29qpukLiZjtEuljhK9nkwDH5Pq2LmEDpClwF_QOXQwfunmj4ryRyKu_9xUEmuD_v7ZxELGDEWyLk9yCY_m5EE2TlhUMJEU349mFllpiCjcW0iuwLKEeUFvGL/s400/IMG_4404.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Had to start out this post with Gabe's latest funny-he knows he can ALWAYS get me to laugh when he does this. He came up with this trick all on his own. He is such a ham :-)</td></tr>
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Three months home and we are seeing a new child. Gabe has come so far in so many areas, I thought it would be fun to write up a "then" and "now" post. <br />
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<b>Then</b>: A boy who immediately hugged and kissed anyone he met, trying so hard to always be in the good graces of anyone who seemed in authority. Part of this was just his personality, waiting to show it's true face, but much of it was simply survival mode.<br />
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<b>Now</b>: Gabe doesn't reach out for just any adult now. He is happy in mine or Brian's arms, content knowing we will provide him food when he's hungry, comfort when he's hurt, a safe place to be. He still hugs and sometimes kisses others, but it's because he <i>wants</i> to, which is a huge difference than feeling like he <i>has</i> to.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlelko4KQiJqoFFmzSc74xpJu0aT1Mk0SvsGPOsrza5ZtztLke7YfEt9tk8DS6OnofpQeVQ0sLjb4O07utB7oGsTN5l1qHC3hIGWYGvO_sfOK7qMwhOKnZ_t7IIuzcemW8dxxuL5kD/s1600/IMG_4428.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlelko4KQiJqoFFmzSc74xpJu0aT1Mk0SvsGPOsrza5ZtztLke7YfEt9tk8DS6OnofpQeVQ0sLjb4O07utB7oGsTN5l1qHC3hIGWYGvO_sfOK7qMwhOKnZ_t7IIuzcemW8dxxuL5kD/s400/IMG_4428.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smiling for a picture to send to Olga</td></tr>
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<b>Then: </b>According to our translator, Gabe only spoke about ten Russian words when we picked him up. He would babble a lot, mixing pieces of words, but didn't have much of a true vocabulary.<br />
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<b>Now:</b> Gabe correctly uses well over 35 <i>English</i> words, and understands probably 95% of what we say to him. He follows directions correctly, he has a <i>great</i> memory, and only needs a small amount of prompting when he doesn't understand something. He still signs a lot, even while he's saying the word correctly. He is recognizing and talking about his emotions, a big developmental step. He likes to tell me when he's excited, and we have a standing joke about being grumpy (which is a fun sign to make, and he makes to cutest grumpy face ever). <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGAQdCJd4SWml4p6RRZUrgtnLWDy0acm4iY11pkctXBOjNGPevDADEnciZkrh6gSt6Guj43CiXGNaRPAdi9AzS5NEPDlLYFh6UXiFS8w5G-UOvR_mDgd77rAZ0OzmdUAScBxeXae0u/s1600/IMG_4529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGAQdCJd4SWml4p6RRZUrgtnLWDy0acm4iY11pkctXBOjNGPevDADEnciZkrh6gSt6Guj43CiXGNaRPAdi9AzS5NEPDlLYFh6UXiFS8w5G-UOvR_mDgd77rAZ0OzmdUAScBxeXae0u/s400/IMG_4529.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Today, while sitting on my tummy as I laid on my bed. These are some of our favorite times together. He needs a haircut!</td></tr>
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<b>Then:</b> Gabe would only hold our gaze for a few seconds at a time, and his attention span was <i>very</i> short. When he first came home, getting him to sit on my lap and read a book was nearly impossible. He was very restless and wandered a lot. <br />
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<b>Now:</b> Gabe looks forward to nap time and bed time <i>because</i> he likes to read a book together. We lay in his bed and sometimes use a flashlight to read the book he has chosen. He loves to talk about what is happening in the book, and is so smart, pointing to things I ask him to point to, answering questions like "where is _____?" and labeling animals, people and things. It is the neatest thing to point out families in books to him. We point at the mommy and daddy and the son and daughter, and I tell him, "this is like Gabe's mommy, and this is like Gabe, and this is like Leah, and this is like Jake and Kennedy. This is a family, and <i>we're</i> a family too!" He always gets a big grin and says, "family," such a happy look on his face. Often he'll lean over and kiss me. He is understanding what being in a family means, and that <i>he</i> is a part of a family. This is the most rewarding thing in the world to witness: him <i>belonging</i>, finally, to someone, and realizing it.<br />
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He now will look me in the eyes for a long time, and I see no fear there anymore, no trepidation, no wondering if I'm the real thing, if I'm going to stick around or if my "shift" is going to end. He looks at me with those giant pools of brown eyes he has and he trusts that I truly love him and want him. He is no longer so restless, content to sit in my lap for longer periods of time and just snuggle (oh how I love this!). He lets me hold his hands and stroke his hair and rub his tummy. He is learning how to play appropriately with siblings and how to take turns. He is realizing that they are not his competition (usually!), and playing together can be really fun. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwBR7UUiXNyzAdSO8ndKGYTXmeEoQ9jxbBMoVCgACKgYD0BBu_Jb2TWkl6NUz6osLt6s5X6YitNEgX6BtsPpOPhd5ivCTPuadzNRqdtD_s-E8QP-o9CTbXhWmCtMykXxw9BmtVYmJH/s1600/IMG_4470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwBR7UUiXNyzAdSO8ndKGYTXmeEoQ9jxbBMoVCgACKgYD0BBu_Jb2TWkl6NUz6osLt6s5X6YitNEgX6BtsPpOPhd5ivCTPuadzNRqdtD_s-E8QP-o9CTbXhWmCtMykXxw9BmtVYmJH/s400/IMG_4470.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gabe made this for me in church on Mother's Day. My first of many little hand prints to come. Brought tears to my eyes.</td></tr>
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<b>Then:</b> When he would eat, he would moan with nearly every bite, saying a little "mmmm" sound, like it was the first food he'd had in ages. He would eat so fast, taking bites so big I couldn't believe he wasn't choking with every swallow. <br />
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<b>Now:</b> He tries nearly every food we offer, no longer moans when he eats. The only food he takes giant bites of still is oatmeal (which he ate often in the orphanage). He gets mad when I tell him to take smaller bites and show him what size is good, but then he does it and says, "mom!" to get my attention so I can see that he's taking smaller bites. He is learning to trust that I'm not going to take away his food, that he can take his time eating. He would also always try to eat one of his siblings' food, even when he had a full plate in front of him, seemingly wanting to load up on as much as he could from wherever he could get it. Now he only tries this occasionally, and usually as a joke to one of his sisters or brother. He knows when he asks, "more?" I will almost always say yes (unless I know he has had plenty and don't want him to have a tummy ache from eating too much :-)<br />
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<b>Then:</b> When he would be reprimanded for disobeying or hurting someone, he didn't really seem to care at all. He would laugh and try to run off. He had no empathy at all, really.<br />
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<b>Now:</b> He gets sad when he's in trouble. I almost feel bad saying I was cheering inside the first time he had a little trembling lip when he was in trouble for hitting Leah once. I was so excited that he actually felt bad that I was disappointed in him. That was a great sign of attachment and a huge victory for our relationship. He now always shows emotion when he has to go to "time in" on his bed for disobeying or breaking family rules. I sit him across from me and hold his hands while I tell him what he did wrong and how to fix it. He says "sorry" appropriately and genuinely cares when he's been scolded. And I am so proud of the way he almost never hits anymore, instead he expresses his feelings through his words and signing/actions. He's learned that it's okay to be angry or sad and express that emotion, as long as he's not hurting anyone while doing it. And I have to say that his little rants when he's mad are actually quite cute, pointing his finger and going off in a mix of Russian and English words/sounds. When he's finished I can usually have him laughing almost immediately just by making a funny face or tickling him. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-CwMPsrsy5aM5O2YNix9Zcuh-UpCHvISI2Dchz5rOhmRGNrRBHIZ-xZ50n-8d4e6fISIVdJmp6lfy7KmvQXyoVwYaYfUGEZ7fJsXy-lF0DkL_md4rcQHIIhmMDyNweHDgcq7KP7l/s1600/IMG_4468.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-CwMPsrsy5aM5O2YNix9Zcuh-UpCHvISI2Dchz5rOhmRGNrRBHIZ-xZ50n-8d4e6fISIVdJmp6lfy7KmvQXyoVwYaYfUGEZ7fJsXy-lF0DkL_md4rcQHIIhmMDyNweHDgcq7KP7l/s400/IMG_4468.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jake and Gabe still have their share of tough moments, figuring out their new relationship as brothers, but they are having more and more moments of this, too. There is no sweeter sound than that of your kids belly laughing with each other. These two can crack each other up like no others. They seem to "get" each other's humor :-)</td></tr>
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These are just a few of the examples of what big positive changes Gabe has gone through since being adopted. I think back to those first visits with him, and those first few weeks home and I am amazed he is the same boy. It finally feels like so many of his protective layers have finally been peeled back, and his true, adorable personality is beginning to show. He has such a fun personality-he appreciates humor and loves to say "silly" when things are funny. He loves to be tickled. He loves for me to swing him around in my arms. He loves to play dress-up and dance. He LOVES to be outside and dig in the dirt, water the grass with the hose, and just <i>run</i>. <br />
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Some random photos from our life these past few weeks:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWuI3myY6l9VKVz3dbF09WHvDjqANhKqH1FuwewF7Mj8PIrlmj-5_41md4JnbxIM0aD8a6V_CkJ7rFnd1FsLz7YDBaURjJ66vhfiGSTxzwsCjNVyB9CxD26ZvgxGFYAHK9UGTcWCCQ/s1600/IMG_4488.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWuI3myY6l9VKVz3dbF09WHvDjqANhKqH1FuwewF7Mj8PIrlmj-5_41md4JnbxIM0aD8a6V_CkJ7rFnd1FsLz7YDBaURjJ66vhfiGSTxzwsCjNVyB9CxD26ZvgxGFYAHK9UGTcWCCQ/s400/IMG_4488.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At a rest stop on the drive to Utah recently. These two were being silly and getting huge laughs from each other. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7L9ujy1qBj4l_Ehqo_AulhBaddUANd2pNUqnvu8cTHBOjrr3NvY3L4IIAVL62bdmft-ozlcAJOU_bS-AQpiewS8QrH36DqHk5LtOEALFrTTSaKkuDsHTwUwK6oAmSJbBRmWyA-mho/s1600/IMG_4480.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7L9ujy1qBj4l_Ehqo_AulhBaddUANd2pNUqnvu8cTHBOjrr3NvY3L4IIAVL62bdmft-ozlcAJOU_bS-AQpiewS8QrH36DqHk5LtOEALFrTTSaKkuDsHTwUwK6oAmSJbBRmWyA-mho/s400/IMG_4480.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The drive to Utah was pretty fun because it was a mix of rain and sun and rainbows.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrl_9vSks8aj_s-DnkMEfDR-XYmcKZm7AFxlBO_QzvsTuuWFa_zcuLvmZHEmXLk3CC8Dj7EuRJ3DNoSeZbEZXJLN5UU1W7j2ZI0DSyBn5g3PoYAHWJVC8g5mrKonZr71ouPsDG8XAE/s1600/IMG_4444.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrl_9vSks8aj_s-DnkMEfDR-XYmcKZm7AFxlBO_QzvsTuuWFa_zcuLvmZHEmXLk3CC8Dj7EuRJ3DNoSeZbEZXJLN5UU1W7j2ZI0DSyBn5g3PoYAHWJVC8g5mrKonZr71ouPsDG8XAE/s400/IMG_4444.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have been working like mad in the yard this spring and decided I needed a garden hat. Gabe seemed to like my choice :-)<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0-Yv-2K932fiyXGMaGBB1a6zXM8IGjSGbEYlREKFOVynQ4TGmyVB-P5AoBg7sjqBHqPWDPS0zwPG97daRXZ6_TCdW7WO_ELlttjr8pI21tMTOXpHx8l-3pO_Gi89-IuqyrUYl5eye/s1600/IMG_4431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0-Yv-2K932fiyXGMaGBB1a6zXM8IGjSGbEYlREKFOVynQ4TGmyVB-P5AoBg7sjqBHqPWDPS0zwPG97daRXZ6_TCdW7WO_ELlttjr8pI21tMTOXpHx8l-3pO_Gi89-IuqyrUYl5eye/s400/IMG_4431.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Besides the skinned knees, look at his legs! No longer just skin and bones, there is something to squeeze now!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwnicIG8isul_owPj_MDq3oeUGoei2Wh5g3Xbkt1ykmJ7RPCO4n3_hYMTfHUoJlIJaT7VINm-ruSRxMTlE2nhP-QaHnVNVaVId0R1T8a-UXITa8jnGSKa6XsZ5sloQuROsLnDX8n3l/s1600/IMG_4434.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwnicIG8isul_owPj_MDq3oeUGoei2Wh5g3Xbkt1ykmJ7RPCO4n3_hYMTfHUoJlIJaT7VINm-ruSRxMTlE2nhP-QaHnVNVaVId0R1T8a-UXITa8jnGSKa6XsZ5sloQuROsLnDX8n3l/s400/IMG_4434.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watching Gabe and Leah figure out sibling-hood has been fun.<br /><br /> <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJGb8F8jR-ZCiFmv1-a5PWkmrLlQIQqCGxOArtln_sh2_wUmikGrq_ZfcQQ0GdAASpZmBgbR9eK9kV2rTS6bMaAHNPicgkIxG5eyRG7wOuyD2ChdB67akeU7oRG9F6tGtt3Nv6YHD1/s1600/IMG_4476.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJGb8F8jR-ZCiFmv1-a5PWkmrLlQIQqCGxOArtln_sh2_wUmikGrq_ZfcQQ0GdAASpZmBgbR9eK9kV2rTS6bMaAHNPicgkIxG5eyRG7wOuyD2ChdB67akeU7oRG9F6tGtt3Nv6YHD1/s320/IMG_4476.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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<br />My thoughts often return to the other children in Gabe's orphange, and the hundreds of others waiting for families of their own. Adoption is scary. Its a giant leap of faith. It is not easy, any of it. But neither is anything worth having or doing or being. And watching Gabe unfold into the boy he was meant to be, knowing what his life would have been like living in an institution for the rest of his life, well, there really aren't words for it. I feel profoundly privileged to witness it all and be his mom, forever. If you've ever thought about adoption, look into it. There is a whole worldwide adoption community out here ready to support you and answer any questions you might have. There are millions of children, here and abroad, who need a family. I guarantee there is one who would fit perfectly into your family. Think about it :-)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-68179123009613802292013-04-16T14:20:00.000-06:002013-04-16T14:20:09.230-06:00Slide<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Kennedy is playing soccer this spring and Brian is her coach again. They practice at a great park, so sometimes I take the other three along and we play while Kennedy practices. Gabe has discovered he LOVES the twisty slide. He kept going round and round, up the stairs and down the slide. The cutest part? How he says "slide!" and signs it too when he gets to the bottom. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-5363062188467196642013-04-13T09:45:00.000-06:002013-04-13T09:45:57.656-06:00<br />
In so many moments in every day, I think to myself, "I have to blog about this tonight!" But by the time I am laying down with Gabe to get him to sleep, I am often either completely exhausted or not feeling all warm and fuzzy about things and don't feel like sharing. Just being honest here! But tonight, after I put Gabe to sleep, I felt such love, deep and true, for this little one who I am so thankful is my son, that I couldn't wait to get on here and share what the past couple of months have held, the beautiful moments <i>and</i> the difficult ones. No one is fooled by an adoption blog that is all sunshine and roses, at least I hope they aren't. Parenting a biological child is incredibly difficult at times. Parenting a child you've only known for less than a year can be beyond difficult, while you're waiting for the bonds to seal.<br />
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During our time in Russia, and during the first couple weeks home, Gabe was a fitful sleeper. After he fell asleep, I couldn't help but try to stroke his hair or cheek, or tiny little arm and hand. I wanted him to feel my love and the safety there. But each time I did, it was met with an abrupt lashing out, while he was still soundly sleeping. Any touch was met with a strong rebuff. I wondered if maybe he shared a bed at the orphanage with another child, and was used to fighting for his space even in his sleep. I wondered other things too, but chose not to spend too much time wondering why. Sometimes kids are just fitful sleepers, but this seemed like more. Anyway, this started to improve after a few weeks home. And tonight, I came home from the store just in time to tuck him in. He likes to have me lay next to him in his bed while he falls asleep. We read a story, sing two songs, and talk a bit about our day. Tonight he was telling me how he dressed up as a firefighter (one of Jake's old Halloween costumes) and also had a cape on. He did this by gesturing and trying to say the word and by signing "firefighter", then grabbing the back of his shirt to show me "cape". I give him the words to what he's trying to express and he amazes me at his ability to imitate my English. Several weeks ago he had 25 English words he used correctly and in the right context. 25 words in only a few weeks time! And now I'm sure he has at least 10 more. One of my favorite is "kisses!" After we've done our bedtime routine, I give him a kiss and he kisses me back and always smiles and exclaims, "kisses!" I love it. <br />
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Anyway, tonight his poor little cheeks and chin were dry from being outside on a cool windy day today. We planted some flowers together and took a walk to the park near our home, where we met some friends to play. Later, he played outside with friends from the neighborhood as I worked in the yard. In bed, he turned to me and whimpered a little and said, "chin, chin." His little chin was bothering him. He has a habit of picking at his scratches or hurts, so I took his hand and held it gently and told him not to touch his chin so the lotion could work to make it better. He settled into the crook of my arm, laid his hand on my chest, sleepily said, "mama," and was soon snoring away. This is the same child that only two months ago was repelled by any kind of cuddling at bedtime. It used to make my heart hurt to have him take my arm off his body and push it away, even though I understood where this was coming from. I knew it would take time to trust, time to believe that I wasn't just another care giver, time to realize just what a mama was. And so tonight, as I laid there with my sleeping boy, stroking his hair and perfect eyebrows, holding his hand close to me and feeling his tiny body snuggled next to mine, all without any attempt to push me away, I truly marveled at what a change he has gone through. I felt immeasurably blessed to be able to witness this change. It is like watching the butterfly emerge from its cocoon, slowly but surely expanding his wings, taking in the sunshine and all of the possibilities around him. And it reminds me all the time of how my Heavenly Father has always been so patient with me, forgiving me over and over, always patiently waiting for me to become the butterfly he knows I can be. And so I remember that when the trying days and moments come. I remember to just wait with my love for Gabe, keep it in my pocket for when the challenging moment passes and I can pull it out and encircle him in it. <br />
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The past two months have been the hardest and most blessed of my life. I feel like I was well schooled in attachment and all of the possible situations we might face once we brought Gabe home. In the back of my mind I tried to prepare mentally for the worst possibilities, just in case. Thankfully, we haven't faced anything that has completely blindsided me. But something I wasn't as prepared for, even though I had heard it discussed before by other adoptive moms, is how, sometimes, it takes longer for <i>you</i>, the parent, to attach to your new child, than it does for the child to attach to you. I didn't want to think about this! In your mind, you imagine yourself bringing this child home and immediately falling in love! And in many ways, I did, when he was being an angel. But when he wasn't, I was so surprised at how quickly my feelings could swing from adoration to frustration and detachment. Just when I thought I was doing so good, something would happen that would take my feelings in the other direction, and I would have tremendous guilt because of it. I would ask myself why this was so difficult. Why could I only feel that bonding kind of love for him when he was acting "good", I wondered.<br />
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I have come to realize that time and shared experiences are great healers, and that feelings of unconditional love come through serving him. The days that I had the hard feelings were the days I was busy doing things other than spending quality time with my kids. They were the days I had to get something done around the house, or go to work, or focused too much on myself. I came to know that I needed to focus on spending the time to be face-to-face with Gabe throughout the day. The more I did this, the more my feelings changed for the better. And over time, I began to be able to stay even-headed even in the most trying of moments. <br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjneh4sV2x2-07RIWazdlGwf5RqWFrbqMdZrHAbp78u3ozu2T8XSi-lt7fGpC08WmdIAccvsw_OQHy-urjJD_mYkn6x0Vp14gdPGkqYSDYLxaO78caDe37l8Uj_hGzQUhOyQTzZJsQ_/s1600/IMG_4002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjneh4sV2x2-07RIWazdlGwf5RqWFrbqMdZrHAbp78u3ozu2T8XSi-lt7fGpC08WmdIAccvsw_OQHy-urjJD_mYkn6x0Vp14gdPGkqYSDYLxaO78caDe37l8Uj_hGzQUhOyQTzZJsQ_/s400/IMG_4002.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">I remember on our first trip to Russia, how he loved to play doctor, thinking about how Jake loved that also, and how much fun they would have playing it together. I was right :-)</td></tr>
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As I did this, I began to see big changes in Gabe. One of these was his eye contact. If you think about eye contact, it is the most intimate of communication. So much of what we say and how we mean it is expressed in the eyes. If we don't feel safe or comfortable with a person, we avoid eye contact. I still remember clearly our first visit in the orphanage. He was wild! He wouldn't hold still for more than two seconds! And he almost never made eye contact. He would only look at you for a quick second. He loved wrestling with Brian and running around and I sat there and wondered if I would be able to handle a child like this. How grateful I am that I was able to see beyond his orphanage survival behavior and know that he had a beautiful personality inside that was just waiting to feel safe to emerge. By our last visits with him, his eye contact had improved somewhat, which gave me a great indication that this could improve greatly once home. I have treasured watching Gabe finally feel safe enough to look me in the eye, to smile while doing so, not just a courtesy smile or a smile to get something he wants, but a <i>real and lingering </i>smile. It has taken him time to work up to this. His eyes smile the most beautiful smile. And every time we connect with our eyes, he gets a message of, "I love you, I am your mama, I will never leave you, you will never be alone again, you can trust me, I will take care of you." These moments of sharing our feelings through our eyes make me feel so much more bonded to him. So as I laid there tonight as he slept peacefully beside me, I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me. I am taking this journey one day at a time, savoring the special moments and working my way through the challenging ones. There can't be rainbows without a little rain, and the amazement of the rainbows always wash away any memory of the rain. <br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-68280152609661123542013-03-23T22:56:00.002-06:002013-03-23T22:56:58.701-06:00OlgaGabe's dear friend and the only mother figure he's ever known, Olga, came to see us a couple days before we left Moscow. Olga has been visiting Gabe since he was just a baby in the orphanage. She instantly fell in love with him, his dark brown eyes staring wide-eyed up at her from his pram as she volunteered to take him for a walk on the orphanage grounds. She stole away with him in the trees and took him from his stroller for probably the first time ever and watched delightedly as he oohed and ahhhed over the grass and nature around him. She's been coming back nearly every week since then. Four and a half years. In a perfect world, in a perfect Russia, Olga would be Gabe's mother. She wasn't able to adopt him, so she set out on a mission to find him a family who would love him the same way she did. Mission accomplished....<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl0Axc-kdR-dNASWztp0iBOsyPmiwyEs0gAOmBkkArNFaH4dYCsHDwdCb3IBTDs3berDRJzeHXQFoU9NpzSisFPji3X2xct0rfbdMevafzt_CDwBmVvdlWU-LzmdVZkMK5vp3ixo3n/s640/blogger-image-1208950256.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl0Axc-kdR-dNASWztp0iBOsyPmiwyEs0gAOmBkkArNFaH4dYCsHDwdCb3IBTDs3berDRJzeHXQFoU9NpzSisFPji3X2xct0rfbdMevafzt_CDwBmVvdlWU-LzmdVZkMK5vp3ixo3n/s400/blogger-image-1208950256.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She brought some homemade chicken noodle soup for Gabe because he had been sick. He just loved how she fed it to him.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq3zXLKpkod1XZSnu65dkd5xezdveuao8fvSSv1TpNwLiFawcWpfuiDROyUd1ArDREPe5ik3o53muB0gBAXe1Gn38ub2AkF6Jm4XgTBbUe2Pb0M_RusUON5XRmPIlPwAmHNjasedu_/s640/blogger-image-387348706.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq3zXLKpkod1XZSnu65dkd5xezdveuao8fvSSv1TpNwLiFawcWpfuiDROyUd1ArDREPe5ik3o53muB0gBAXe1Gn38ub2AkF6Jm4XgTBbUe2Pb0M_RusUON5XRmPIlPwAmHNjasedu_/s400/blogger-image-387348706.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love how he's looking at her in this one. He loves her too, just as much as she loves him.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizt4AasxGuZoEjLNV_8rfRoviU8W5Q-2fjAq9WUi8Dmt82UrMBhxUYE4gqosX306qpBpQVmd5U2N2DL5cH51uiZ7-CyuzTKxySAVrwIP-bjpSGlSNTnkzDZmX7ICxbTUHBPhQjnsno/s640/blogger-image-339348284.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizt4AasxGuZoEjLNV_8rfRoviU8W5Q-2fjAq9WUi8Dmt82UrMBhxUYE4gqosX306qpBpQVmd5U2N2DL5cH51uiZ7-CyuzTKxySAVrwIP-bjpSGlSNTnkzDZmX7ICxbTUHBPhQjnsno/s400/blogger-image-339348284.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Olga brought gifts for Gabe and for me and Brian and Vika. He just loved these hand puppets.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixR_YjGjrCCmbzxPram784nVW2ANnCCssUUlKY1UkFKxC1YTwqy96T-yR_2ZLfpGFU5abOZv9TEmhB4UY0LrD2eigE63SXSw1ok7Qo6Sv2NHpIyq-Ti3NhntM6IjLMAqPT6yUr8UTb/s640/blogger-image--1095087568.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixR_YjGjrCCmbzxPram784nVW2ANnCCssUUlKY1UkFKxC1YTwqy96T-yR_2ZLfpGFU5abOZv9TEmhB4UY0LrD2eigE63SXSw1ok7Qo6Sv2NHpIyq-Ti3NhntM6IjLMAqPT6yUr8UTb/s400/blogger-image--1095087568.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Showing him how the noise maker works. I love each of our expressions.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguKswKEQ_hrUoDaGPDq2J_wW9NVgj9WENgkzYK5C0kERb7eJNgm9Kpsx5-N6mA9bOYvQxvjnR2oE58Y7Sa-FAZW6WTpQ-p4zTvTKaOZChKevRZaZDB0PNqYTVncfFiXmnk1V57vAtY/s640/blogger-image-147298327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguKswKEQ_hrUoDaGPDq2J_wW9NVgj9WENgkzYK5C0kERb7eJNgm9Kpsx5-N6mA9bOYvQxvjnR2oE58Y7Sa-FAZW6WTpQ-p4zTvTKaOZChKevRZaZDB0PNqYTVncfFiXmnk1V57vAtY/s400/blogger-image-147298327.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Like any child, the packaging is always more fun than the toys...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi31P5lyrWeN54dQCrf460XfGqoQto_mI_GrhHCtNX1kovYC5zFZZ1Vi_mw2oPjm1LQANlBvcSgstf_GA85yRWLKj0EjxdKIS6nPAQsvt7RENIBHxJVu-OMQa_1STpu5uNaIaeFr4Ln/s640/blogger-image-1636315925.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi31P5lyrWeN54dQCrf460XfGqoQto_mI_GrhHCtNX1kovYC5zFZZ1Vi_mw2oPjm1LQANlBvcSgstf_GA85yRWLKj0EjxdKIS6nPAQsvt7RENIBHxJVu-OMQa_1STpu5uNaIaeFr4Ln/s400/blogger-image-1636315925.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So much love.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw4avQaQjKSIGxUGqVwaSTdh-VNr5nNlLBcqFF3cpEiWEtxI8-7kKoYZbuJT1ePe9GUJr6sYdw0saV9wPm6YCp2bmAzYT0m3VY84_9lp52U2CCdkFCEglKjBnA6J58jTldJhcj7uz3/s640/blogger-image--1820467847.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw4avQaQjKSIGxUGqVwaSTdh-VNr5nNlLBcqFF3cpEiWEtxI8-7kKoYZbuJT1ePe9GUJr6sYdw0saV9wPm6YCp2bmAzYT0m3VY84_9lp52U2CCdkFCEglKjBnA6J58jTldJhcj7uz3/s400/blogger-image--1820467847.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gabe's Russian mom and American mom.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsWk2GO4pjNFLkjI9sO3ssyRmd0cvRrzkjLdFNW0GsLFsF9w47kXTpeUgpP-Y3r4JZJEcN9nsQeUfC7bqJfCgB0UYuKoiK8GYAOaDOLO23yeUdWB7avsWzRS-yZLmxoa9t_YtIET0z/s640/blogger-image-869985692.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsWk2GO4pjNFLkjI9sO3ssyRmd0cvRrzkjLdFNW0GsLFsF9w47kXTpeUgpP-Y3r4JZJEcN9nsQeUfC7bqJfCgB0UYuKoiK8GYAOaDOLO23yeUdWB7avsWzRS-yZLmxoa9t_YtIET0z/s400/blogger-image-869985692.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gabe helping Olga get her coat on. Saying goodbye was very emotional for me. </td></tr>
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How do you say thank you to a woman who helped you complete your family? How do you thank someone for making the ultimate sacrifice-finding him a foreign family for his own sake, knowing she wouldn't get to visit him weekly anymore? There are no words adequate enough. I love you so much, dear Olga. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05OWYiuPsRxDm80y6pyZLIkm_p-qfaN643wSFSvkPJtOCIHy9Ts2i6gEls-iYt7AxdAvj77R9TGOSoXhsoSnmlCjr1l46doTX4WyHg1yz5_7Ds0sKVB8VyO2GB38fcfo66qu7mJqQ/s640/blogger-image-1642493006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05OWYiuPsRxDm80y6pyZLIkm_p-qfaN643wSFSvkPJtOCIHy9Ts2i6gEls-iYt7AxdAvj77R9TGOSoXhsoSnmlCjr1l46doTX4WyHg1yz5_7Ds0sKVB8VyO2GB38fcfo66qu7mJqQ/s400/blogger-image-1642493006.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Olga took some photos with her camera. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfz3U795J1URtUSq2U_Wz-s9XQt_rGMjDk-H0OBSwh_7RxtAObau1JVTmGfyOsYcMg-eM6Tskd9GUxIWIFzNy9BkSXgP5pWsoE-K8NDzs537FbcDc_LOmyBWaIGWo7u-2dISSAz1aB/s640/blogger-image--578221219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfz3U795J1URtUSq2U_Wz-s9XQt_rGMjDk-H0OBSwh_7RxtAObau1JVTmGfyOsYcMg-eM6Tskd9GUxIWIFzNy9BkSXgP5pWsoE-K8NDzs537FbcDc_LOmyBWaIGWo7u-2dISSAz1aB/s400/blogger-image--578221219.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We will always remember you, dear "Vola", and I promise Gabe will always know who his dear Russian mother is.</td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-45239943081315387852013-03-23T22:12:00.001-06:002013-03-23T22:12:17.504-06:00Red SquareThe day before we came home we had the chance to visit Red Square one more time with a reporter from Time Magazine. He wanted to chat with us about our situation for part of a story they wanted to publish. His photographer was out of town that day, but he was nice enough to use my camera to snap some photos of us on the iconic square. He was such a nice guy with an interesting story. He was born in Moscow and moved to the U.S. as a child. When he became a reporter he decided to move back to Moscow to be with family and do his job. Yet another fascinating person to get to know.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gabe kept wanting to run off on his own, and fell down. He wasn't used to the uneven ground.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Paka Paka, Russia!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjmfyCgL-wLrYMO9Rs1VzUUmSkMQIKEIvbOaKtcZFSdMlyeVQn2ChB20BIihicfFA-Dbyaf_dYl_lzlkiW_DRFLubUM5ZhYiAoYXbwG6q7hjnf8T4qCEkoJO0xs1aQMb1MyxmCbb4/s640/blogger-image--598295077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjmfyCgL-wLrYMO9Rs1VzUUmSkMQIKEIvbOaKtcZFSdMlyeVQn2ChB20BIihicfFA-Dbyaf_dYl_lzlkiW_DRFLubUM5ZhYiAoYXbwG6q7hjnf8T4qCEkoJO0xs1aQMb1MyxmCbb4/s400/blogger-image--598295077.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Say Cheese!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0K6oL12oxsYihB4Y3Bl-W9qGhOcd7G1qZqnuj7TgkjM5zee0vey8fDhAN9LVARrkRcaPWF6xp35NkNz376yehW190g8Se56lPcIpx2mSIdYF-iocgMWJ1YAIKknKmI1tsEyLx4AL/s640/blogger-image--659332336.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0K6oL12oxsYihB4Y3Bl-W9qGhOcd7G1qZqnuj7TgkjM5zee0vey8fDhAN9LVARrkRcaPWF6xp35NkNz376yehW190g8Se56lPcIpx2mSIdYF-iocgMWJ1YAIKknKmI1tsEyLx4AL/s400/blogger-image--659332336.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We took them inside the GUM to defrost :-)</td></tr>
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Looking at these photos brings back so many memories and also reminds me of how far Gabe has come in only a month's time. I remember how he tried to run on Red Square, and how it made me feel sad for him because he had no sense of staying with his mom. He simply didn't know that I was "his person", the one that would keep him safe and guide him through this big crowd. When he fell down and got hurt, and then cold, I just wanted to hold him close and tell him it would all be okay, that I wasn't going anywhere and I would always make sure he was warm and safe. Now, he understands. He comes to me when he's hurt. He holds my hand when I tell him to. He looks for me when we are apart. We aren't 100% there yet, but we've come oh so far since those days in Russia. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-76748047647959243792013-03-23T21:32:00.000-06:002013-03-23T21:32:03.299-06:00Mr. AstakhovI am mad. It's as plain as that. And sometimes I go from mad to desperately sad when thinking about those children I left behind in Russia. Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of them. Six months ago, I could at least have the hope that some of them were going home to families who would love and cherish them, but now, because of this man and those who would say they are patriots, these children have all but lost hope of ever finding a family of their own. Mr. Astakhov is the Children's Rights Ombusman of Russia. And what experience did he bring to this appointed position? <i>None</i>. That's right. <i>Zero</i> experience working with children or advocating for children. <i>Zero</i> experience in child development and disabilities. <i> </i>Do you know what he does have experience in? Being a talk-show host. That's right. The man responsible for keeping thousands of children shut away in orphanages is a former talk-show host and attorney. This man is responsible for children's rights in Russia??????? The same man who took his wife to France to birth their children, while staying in a fancy mansion, and sending a son to the U.S. to go to school, is the one claiming foreigners are killing and molesting Russia's orphans. <br />
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Do you know what I see, Mr. Astakhov? I see families who have adopted "your" orphans who have gone to hell and back to help them work through the many, many emotional problems they have from institutionalized living. I read about how they give, and give, and give love to a child who shows absolutely no love or any emotion in return for months, or even years. I have a friend whose family has been dealing with an infestation of scabies that their child brought with them from the orphanage for months. I read experiences of babies, <i>babies</i>, who don't even have words to express their feelings, arch their backs, repulsed by any attempt to snuggle or be held close by their adoptive parents. In each of these cases, and there are so many I haven't even mentioned, these parents chose to hold on, to keep trying, to use every available resource to bring their child out of a place of hurt, abandonment, and emotional void to place of love, affection, trust, belonging. If you could see the love these parents have, to willingly adopt these children <i>knowing</i> these were all possibilities, knowing they could be in for the hardest thing they've ever done in their lives, but still saying "yes", you would be <i>ashamed</i>. Absolutely ashamed of yourself for even hinting to the idea that they had ulterior motives for adoption. <br />
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Adoption is born out of the worst kind of tragedy. It can become the most beautiful thing a person can witness, but make no mistake, adoption is born out of unimaginable grief, sacrifice, and pain. No one <i>wants</i> to become pregnant with a child they can't keep. No one <i>wants</i> there to be mothers who can't mother. Not one of these adoptive parents is under the impression that once they pick up that child their life is going to be a bed of roses. In fact, in the back of our minds, we are probably expecting the worst so we won't be disappointed if things aren't as we'd hoped they'd be.<br />
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Mr. Astakhov, if you would take one moment from your world of money and politics to really <i>see</i> the nearly <i>sixty thousand</i> families who have taken these children and made them their own, I would hope you would humbly bow your head and admit that you are wrong. What you have chosen to do to these defenseless children is horrific. In the name of country you are sentencing these children to early deaths. And the worst part is, you probably already know that. <br />
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Russia is full of people who love their children, but it is run by politicians who would use them as political fodder for their own twisted purposes. And tonight in America, there are hundreds of families going to bed with tears on their pillows, having met the children they have spent months hoping to adopt, knowing they will probably never see them again. Their promises to their children broken through no fault of their own. <br />
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So tonight, I am mad.<br />
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<a href="http://www.themoscowtimes.com/opinion/article/astakhov-is-a-better-showman-than-ombudsman/476359.html" target="_blank">Article here in The Moscow Times that tells just what kind of a man Mr. Astakhov is.</a> I hope that one day the Russian people will rise up against their government for the sake of their children. Freedom is a right for every man, woman and <i>child</i>. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPbHwXW08-efFGQMUojoVvBCJVrq3iA87Iom6oJ51lScysUkLXEAeTWbiiBIHqHlMtr9M__nvmtrwUn-_0_Q10tTwq9C30kLERZE1h50Qw-LYvQl6OxMpIFwYFf_xDfXsr9MT_Tdpp/s1600/Astakhov.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPbHwXW08-efFGQMUojoVvBCJVrq3iA87Iom6oJ51lScysUkLXEAeTWbiiBIHqHlMtr9M__nvmtrwUn-_0_Q10tTwq9C30kLERZE1h50Qw-LYvQl6OxMpIFwYFf_xDfXsr9MT_Tdpp/s400/Astakhov.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo printed in The Moscow Times. </td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-63772322253399477092013-03-12T16:30:00.000-06:002013-03-12T16:30:35.645-06:00What We've Been Up To<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We've been keeping very busy around here. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2NrrY0LOPzfFaGkzlYLKCwJqbPTEYChGA1Y7pzUZPsTeq9ca-xdrfCSssKenwNfCiyjFOo7eovjS4YANMNG_BRHo8IOc8Tsoicmx5CeMpNcu3vrV6to8GOQGHrdBeW4hV2OczaLPz/s640/blogger-image--1405873100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2NrrY0LOPzfFaGkzlYLKCwJqbPTEYChGA1Y7pzUZPsTeq9ca-xdrfCSssKenwNfCiyjFOo7eovjS4YANMNG_BRHo8IOc8Tsoicmx5CeMpNcu3vrV6to8GOQGHrdBeW4hV2OczaLPz/s400/blogger-image--1405873100.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gabe <i>loves, loves, loves</i> being outside. He likes to try out the tricycles and Jake's balance bike. I'm guessing by the end of summer he'll be able to peddle himself.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jake has been teaching Gabe the finer points of Sesame Street and Signing Time. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mom and step-dad came to visit and meet Gabe. He loved them so much! He had to try on Grandma's glasses, of course.<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: medium;">
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Grandma brought headlamps for all the kids. They were a huge hit! Gabe started reciting his little "poems" he makes up and loved running around the house with the other kids. Now we read his books before bed each night by the light of his headlamp :-)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Having fun eating a snack.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Napping. He sleeps just like Jake, with his arms behind his head.<br /></td></tr>
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We took Gabe to the first part of church last Sunday. Do you think his siblings were proud to show him off?! He did great, too. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daddy and his son, just hanging out.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eating dessert after dinner on Sunday evening with some good friends of ours. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Fixing" our kitchen table with Jake. Don't you love his camera smile?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting an x-ray of his tummy. The poor guy has been having tummy troubles and we're trying to get to the bottom of it. Test results will come back this week. He is such a champ at the doctor's office. He lays right back and lifts his shirt for the doctor. Each doctor we visited gave him a new pair of exam gloves because he loves them so much. He still has upcoming appointments with the heart doctor (he had open heart surgery when he was an infant), Ear, nose & throat doctor to check his hearing and tonsils/adenoids, and eye doctor. His pediatrician has a social worker on staff who has been helping coordinate all his appointments, which has been so nice! I just love our pediatrician. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We've had some really nice days lately and taken the kids for walks around the neighborhood. He really liked riding around in the wagon and then pulling Leah himself or just the empty wagon. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jake loves to steal Brian's phone and take a gazillion photos on it, this one being one of the better one's he caught :-)</td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-87850379542116998582013-03-04T14:28:00.001-07:002013-03-06T17:29:48.294-07:00The Airport<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It is so hard to play catch-up on the blog, and generally I just try to start from today and go forward, but there are still some moments from my time in Russia that I want to have written down. Today, I wanted to write about the day we came home.</div>
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This was Gabe the night before, in the airport in Los Angeles. Think he was tired?</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It is sightly disturbing how much this looks like a pup on a leash! But that leash saved Gabe from getting lost many times in all the airports! Thanks for loaning it to me, Jeana!</td></tr>
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Many things happened at LAX, and difficult news came to Jeana during this time, which made us almost completely spent by the time we got to the hotel. I could see that Jeana was being tested almost beyond her limits. After speaking to my wonderful sister-in-law Melanie, she asked if we wanted her to contact some Elders in our church there to come and give us all a blessing for this next stretch home. It was humbling to say yes, we needed some extra help. </div>
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We ate some pizza and tried to not let the exhaustion get to us before the Elders arrived. I remember sitting there, watching them enter, and having the distinct feeling of my Savior's love for us. It was as if the Savior himself was walking into our room. I will never forget the feelings of confirmation of Jesus' love for me and Jeana as individuals in that moment. He was telling me that even though He himself wasn't there, He <i>was</i> there through his priesthood. We had been blessed in Russia to find members of our church there, and now here, too. What a gift it is to know that wherever we go in this world, we can always find those that hold the priesthood and can administer to us when we need our Heavenly Father's blessings. </div>
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The Elders blessed Jeana first, and tears streamed down my face as they blessed her with strength and comfort, to be able to endure just a little more until she was home, but to also be able to have the strength to take care of her sick children when she arrived there. It was a beautiful blessing. </div>
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I was next, and I remember being told that Heavenly Father would always be there to help me with this new change in my life. they also blessed my health, since I had been quite sick the past few days. After they had blessed me, I stood up to shake their hands and thank them, and Gabe ran right over to the chair I had been sitting in, sat down, folded his arms and bowed his head. Then he tapped his head with his hands, telling the Elders he wanted a blessing too! So they blessed him, and he stayed so still during the whole thing, so serious. It was a moment I'll always remember.</div>
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Vika, too, wanted her "turn", and was also given a beautiful blessing. We thanked the Elders and let them out. We already felt strengthened just by having them there with us for a while, but it wasn't just the company, it was the spirit that strengthened us. I knew everything would be okay, and I no longer felt so alone and overwhelmed.</div>
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We woke up the next morning and I felt better than I had in days. I put Gabe in the tub after I showered to let him play while I got ready. That boy could stay in the bath all day if I let him! He is always sad when it's time to get out, even if his water has turned cold!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Need I say more about how much he loves this?!</td></tr>
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After we got all ready I packed our things up and was about to call Jeana's room when I nonchalantly opened the curtains, just a habit from our hotel in Moscow. I wasn't expecting anything really because we had been used to it being dark until about 10:00 am. I was greeted with sunlight and blue skies as far as the eye could see and <i>palm trees</i> for goodness sakes! I nearly cried! What a sight for sore eyes! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgznTY-xZEsqX8kXlEOOKBGczNrugPkHqXbDUHZP-Ur63vp9e6uHvuyi_4tWcXzspQ1f_4Akaguwete-Em_r0LFS9U3a6-kzcXW2Q9GOMdVKtT1xg3PT1wLsqTUT_WeWh_jNotoQ5w6/s1600/IMG_2952.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgznTY-xZEsqX8kXlEOOKBGczNrugPkHqXbDUHZP-Ur63vp9e6uHvuyi_4tWcXzspQ1f_4Akaguwete-Em_r0LFS9U3a6-kzcXW2Q9GOMdVKtT1xg3PT1wLsqTUT_WeWh_jNotoQ5w6/s400/IMG_2952.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The window was really hazy and dirty, but you get the idea!</td></tr>
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I took Gabe by the hand and headed right to Jeana's room to make sure she had her curtains open, and was met by Vika at the door with her usual smiley face on. They had some good music going, and we all danced our way into the morning. </div>
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We headed downstairs to find some breakfast. Oh it felt so good to eat familiar, fresh food again. I had to laugh when I panicked in line when I realized I didn't have enough rubles in my wallet to pay! Hello, Becky, you don't need rubles anymore! </div>
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We sat at a table near the front entrance to the hotel and ate our breakfast. I watched Gabe as he looked around and paid particular attention to the television commentator rambling on in the background. He seemed to realize that so much of this was unfamiliar now, so I held him even closer to reassure him that it would all be okay.</div>
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After we finished breakfast, we couldn't help but wander outside to stand in the glorious sunshine. We just stood there, holding our kids, soaking in the sun's deliciously warm rays. Oh, it felt so good! Gabe seemed to like it too, gazing down at his arm and watching the sun dance on his arm. We took the kids on a little walk around the outside of the hotel. When Gabe's feet hit a soft patch of green grass, he immediately bent down, picked a bunch and threw it in the air. He giggled as it came drifting back down at his face. I remember thinking this was just the first of many fun outdoor moments he's going to have this first year home. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-IiJ5GVu4_e4ni-pojXXqpk_ULcelpDwhlal9gqSdi64F8rdnGhwnTUuZyiS9Gp5yq1N_aL1YcwHhkj6pb37XsIC8serjk5cns2YGRpA0QY-6ckmu12G995dKqQit-TIBIFLXhJCl/s1600/IMG_2960.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-IiJ5GVu4_e4ni-pojXXqpk_ULcelpDwhlal9gqSdi64F8rdnGhwnTUuZyiS9Gp5yq1N_aL1YcwHhkj6pb37XsIC8serjk5cns2YGRpA0QY-6ckmu12G995dKqQit-TIBIFLXhJCl/s400/IMG_2960.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">VICTORY! WE'RE AMERICANS AT LAST!!</td></tr>
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Finally it was time to head back to the airport. We managed to get all our luggage to the right place and had a little bit to wait. I took Gabe walking through the airport. He got mad at me when I wouldn't let him hug strangers. This little guy will have so much to learn this first year as well.</div>
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The plane ride to Salt Lake was a breeze. Gabe fell asleep as soon as the plane started to take off, and he slept the entire ride. This was such a blessing because I thought for sure he would <i>not </i>be happy about getting on another plane. But he was a champ and acted like it was all old-hat.</div>
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In Salt Lake we were surprised to be met at our gate by my sister-in-law! What a great sight to see for weary eyes! She brought the kids each a little American flag, which was something I had forgotten to pack for that important airport greeting back home. A small thing, but a huge symbol. Thanks, Amy.</div>
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It was time to finally say goodbye to Jeana. I didn't even know what to say to her, so I just hugged her and through my choked-back tears told her "go <i>home..." </i>I was so happy thinking of her walking to her husband and girls and loved ones. She had endured so, so much. Her poor little Kaelyn had been admitted to the hospital the day before we left Moscow for RSV and pneumonia. Her other sweetie Bryn had gotten sick too. It is so hard as a mother to be away from your children, especially when you know they need you. And now Vika, too, had been sick with a fever. Not exactly the homecoming you would imagine for yourself, but she soldiered on and made it. I wasn't sure how I was going to live day to day without her right by my side! It was so much fun having someone there all the time to laugh with, cry with, shop with, and experience this whole ordeal with. I am so glad that she lives relatively close so that we'll be able to keep in touch and see each other. </div>
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Finally, it was time to head to Boise!!!!!!! Amy saw us to the gate, and we got settled in to our seats in the very last row. Gabe wanted to sit in his own seat instead of my lap, and I gave him my little travel pillow and he was almost asleep before we even taxied to the runway. He slept the whole way to Boise, too. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's hard work flying half way around the world!</td></tr>
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As we approached Boise and I saw the familiar landmarks-Lucky Peak reservoir, Gowen Field, and downtown Boise, my throat tightened at the thought of seeing Brian again and feeling <i>home</i> again. I knew it would be the biggest sense of relief. We got off the plane, loaded down with our carry-on bags, and headed to the exit. As I turned the corner to exit through security, I glanced quickly ahead and saw so many people waiting for us I couldn't look for a moment because I knew I'd lose all control of my emotions! I looked down at Gabe, with his little flag in his hand, and asked him, "are you ready for this, buddy?" He just looked at me and smiled, not knowing the welcome that was coming, or the significance of the moment. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuO1R6RuDCeBGsjarHe3pcw0OcK52GG7tFDAICaLnRyhZu2Jco4sBUkc1tJdvn2uqB0Baunczqa2Y1_bhyphenhyphenrXzJXqEdvpQV3NxRdYARNmpKIAlJPCZQdLKQJ1j0PRUGmpLrjh-NdSNI/s1600/gabe+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuO1R6RuDCeBGsjarHe3pcw0OcK52GG7tFDAICaLnRyhZu2Jco4sBUkc1tJdvn2uqB0Baunczqa2Y1_bhyphenhyphenrXzJXqEdvpQV3NxRdYARNmpKIAlJPCZQdLKQJ1j0PRUGmpLrjh-NdSNI/s400/gabe+010.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dear friend Aubrey. This girl has done so much for orphans with Down syndrome. One of those people you meet for the first time and it feels like you've known them forever. Thanks for being there, Aubrey!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLBCFCsotHJ7aJ9GrDoutEwK7ZeFg1vx5ybdcwc9vhqP1ZQtOiAmDQ31TbdRs-mPxnnbz4vvHPnpvln-MZcK6M_b3ixHnLeufsSVgCfwCE6YfyNgMBXSfZhxzG0gEG0fhl0h_jbkm/s1600/gabe+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLBCFCsotHJ7aJ9GrDoutEwK7ZeFg1vx5ybdcwc9vhqP1ZQtOiAmDQ31TbdRs-mPxnnbz4vvHPnpvln-MZcK6M_b3ixHnLeufsSVgCfwCE6YfyNgMBXSfZhxzG0gEG0fhl0h_jbkm/s400/gabe+013.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leah with her friends, waiting to see mama again, finally!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjIo8VOnox-PSXHURt0cmTbydt00tDL5or8mauD-j4Z2TVADXMNQaZpkGW0I_CalYkB51AAiCsOVOEGKIhhhG9WmkVoenqG6_q69ReTV6YZdkxId1Zcbk02pR9825WCuqtunmjbm5s/s1600/gabe+022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjIo8VOnox-PSXHURt0cmTbydt00tDL5or8mauD-j4Z2TVADXMNQaZpkGW0I_CalYkB51AAiCsOVOEGKIhhhG9WmkVoenqG6_q69ReTV6YZdkxId1Zcbk02pR9825WCuqtunmjbm5s/s400/gabe+022.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sweet Kennedy, nervous and holding it all in.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdJrq9m0x7K9stBC3Ul_nigCKRlx6uH21xV0KApdgjWPPJAOaxEAwHqFZAXUX2k3IF_TopoH0RtxwS03kgA7jffI6K7ohdHfiTvsU3PtwE5LVFk24QlwQgINv88jyoD-CG6459hxb/s1600/gabe+029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdJrq9m0x7K9stBC3Ul_nigCKRlx6uH21xV0KApdgjWPPJAOaxEAwHqFZAXUX2k3IF_TopoH0RtxwS03kgA7jffI6K7ohdHfiTvsU3PtwE5LVFk24QlwQgINv88jyoD-CG6459hxb/s400/gabe+029.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hi there, my princess Leah.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioRo7JC-3YPjQay8L-G6SYO5Vt_7TCOHWQLxEJv3d9XfnEgw1qxtdONmzUndoE68t_4hjQbBNQE_noAB53oSXjh9-fnsSordKTOu0986jV2jIW_Y_3UdH5IKUEcpC4_g5yqYWHekJG/s1600/gabe+056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioRo7JC-3YPjQay8L-G6SYO5Vt_7TCOHWQLxEJv3d9XfnEgw1qxtdONmzUndoE68t_4hjQbBNQE_noAB53oSXjh9-fnsSordKTOu0986jV2jIW_Y_3UdH5IKUEcpC4_g5yqYWHekJG/s400/gabe+056.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the neatest people I know...thanks ladies, you are awesome!!!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtQTCUGaQU8nUUuYsXH5d_4qYezA_5Fe8yxkS5JMZzC5C_mji5gZgc9aP9O5lNWtpMZpPdxD7_jspKdLpQ4TNVu3R8z48609LAMT6jZFFlnY4T8MfFB6R5QeAhAOx92u3iJQrcbYjl/s1600/gabe+066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtQTCUGaQU8nUUuYsXH5d_4qYezA_5Fe8yxkS5JMZzC5C_mji5gZgc9aP9O5lNWtpMZpPdxD7_jspKdLpQ4TNVu3R8z48609LAMT6jZFFlnY4T8MfFB6R5QeAhAOx92u3iJQrcbYjl/s400/gabe+066.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here we come!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8WHikyDWR-Ism1hCu0esDTPuV2EKofO1c9GK50t_UqKd3MZPa47OSb0d6DCdD_F9RmRTjJ-2AKVbBfGShhp0eqW3T-0TmLqSG7z-NxS5UBZrgGiHOwyOUhE6k4QXwVL5RHsOgemEL/s1600/gabe+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8WHikyDWR-Ism1hCu0esDTPuV2EKofO1c9GK50t_UqKd3MZPa47OSb0d6DCdD_F9RmRTjJ-2AKVbBfGShhp0eqW3T-0TmLqSG7z-NxS5UBZrgGiHOwyOUhE6k4QXwVL5RHsOgemEL/s400/gabe+007.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Jake and Brian when Brian first caught sight of us. Each of the kids had a rose for me, a sweet gesture by Brian, who used to give me so many roses when we were dating. </td></tr>
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Finally, we got close enough that I looked up, and when I saw my kids standing there, jumping up and down with such big smiles on their faces, I dropped everything and ran to them with Gabe. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1h4RGfZIFX33XVt1VLqXS7qqKeaXCH4u-UgF-LK__tnbtu0ePKy3IsHMt1UPK8wwlzRbrxbqm2_2iAq8mUCDqvZkz3CGqCMy6lRoxqNDtyUtFWQ3TFcEQybkrR5CDvpXui_Pt-OKD/s1600/gabe+068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1h4RGfZIFX33XVt1VLqXS7qqKeaXCH4u-UgF-LK__tnbtu0ePKy3IsHMt1UPK8wwlzRbrxbqm2_2iAq8mUCDqvZkz3CGqCMy6lRoxqNDtyUtFWQ3TFcEQybkrR5CDvpXui_Pt-OKD/s400/gabe+068.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gabe's wondering, "who are all these people??!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVru7rqL3rxDgNNRXhB61pFwq3HsZNHZseqnk3kGA60mp3-1Hn2HK-kht39qD5Dph-ipjCMY0TqNBetLT497eGqll3J0uL2dXqq4Did3xVNY_xxtciUZFa9m5YT1wh4pmzKkbhgmE9/s1600/gabe+069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVru7rqL3rxDgNNRXhB61pFwq3HsZNHZseqnk3kGA60mp3-1Hn2HK-kht39qD5Dph-ipjCMY0TqNBetLT497eGqll3J0uL2dXqq4Did3xVNY_xxtciUZFa9m5YT1wh4pmzKkbhgmE9/s400/gabe+069.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Leah got to me first. She seemed so big compared to the little guy I had spent the last week with.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPkDNZvMpLIKtqqaDIbR3P6X2KTUW-hkNSkx5zYva5pSy10gjJ6YDFfS1Sqf5uA3skyQkXInvqefyS_ap6-bx58qngUHuI304y5l8Hiwykqottt8uSSbkyZbmzYGN6wriqADLEdjgA/s1600/gabe+071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPkDNZvMpLIKtqqaDIbR3P6X2KTUW-hkNSkx5zYva5pSy10gjJ6YDFfS1Sqf5uA3skyQkXInvqefyS_ap6-bx58qngUHuI304y5l8Hiwykqottt8uSSbkyZbmzYGN6wriqADLEdjgA/s400/gabe+071.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sweet Kennedy had tears running down her face. No need to be brave anymore, Kennedy, mom's here. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUTHgVyZGBjlaDNb2mFzbBsDzQrdeTNIUrfW4QSUZZPY9TE_5tdk7JW716E7VEQWON72G2TFswxc0JnwBxho6Bbs3xemK38TOK1onB3ZCcwF3mVYl8bT0GCFPTcD6xi0zQL-OwXgoK/s1600/gabe+073+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUTHgVyZGBjlaDNb2mFzbBsDzQrdeTNIUrfW4QSUZZPY9TE_5tdk7JW716E7VEQWON72G2TFswxc0JnwBxho6Bbs3xemK38TOK1onB3ZCcwF3mVYl8bT0GCFPTcD6xi0zQL-OwXgoK/s400/gabe+073+(2).JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gabe and Papa together at last. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWw_Oi9iaiLjupGkhqR0a3SAfERmVAQY_zOgyOK3ZCCKHeEwpfGseS-5Q-ks1b9OSGvqsWFovLRgViQ6d6HSxHM-3cDB7R7AQSd8wtH-ugtP09t0vPQ7Sq599HnKGmMkDi62n0cb0y/s1600/gabe+078+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWw_Oi9iaiLjupGkhqR0a3SAfERmVAQY_zOgyOK3ZCCKHeEwpfGseS-5Q-ks1b9OSGvqsWFovLRgViQ6d6HSxHM-3cDB7R7AQSd8wtH-ugtP09t0vPQ7Sq599HnKGmMkDi62n0cb0y/s400/gabe+078+(2).JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This girl made me a mother, and I couldn't love her more.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjflq4uffTwog_gXvPOwzdLqLJB6SG6kw_WDGG3d7vB6OY6svJlYjWzm3dWUEK4jbY7DaNqWtLC-eD-1sYV7rEJCX_jZ7JJfNW50DW-i1ezRjTxsm3M23iow1Hg0hZyP9cKnI6wwwqX/s1600/gabe+083+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjflq4uffTwog_gXvPOwzdLqLJB6SG6kw_WDGG3d7vB6OY6svJlYjWzm3dWUEK4jbY7DaNqWtLC-eD-1sYV7rEJCX_jZ7JJfNW50DW-i1ezRjTxsm3M23iow1Hg0hZyP9cKnI6wwwqX/s400/gabe+083+(2).JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leah was bouncing all over the place, but she wanted to make sure I saw her rose that she wanted to give me. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkNKkZ_DHB61EKbqSn8eQ4llUVmbXHsKtzMr3PyyAr2t1AmuugAFVe2Iu9PZfx2yJui2rK0Gb-g6EeGfpp6RGs-0m87rlbWG_lgm4Vdjte8ZOVqu2ShrWIRkVZMB9dVDwzJI-UkWw/s1600/gabe+079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkNKkZ_DHB61EKbqSn8eQ4llUVmbXHsKtzMr3PyyAr2t1AmuugAFVe2Iu9PZfx2yJui2rK0Gb-g6EeGfpp6RGs-0m87rlbWG_lgm4Vdjte8ZOVqu2ShrWIRkVZMB9dVDwzJI-UkWw/s400/gabe+079.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL7CmT2OXP823hRrAanuBkQzhrs4w1yvua1fz0cpdpMsXE-uMPbSWDDRWwmD214_cRccdhCirTuUkG_8QN3bJ83xFtf-soyZbenJ4sodQCT1MdWrK2fCGTthjnswoCQxstBRWOgGyd/s1600/gabe+145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL7CmT2OXP823hRrAanuBkQzhrs4w1yvua1fz0cpdpMsXE-uMPbSWDDRWwmD214_cRccdhCirTuUkG_8QN3bJ83xFtf-soyZbenJ4sodQCT1MdWrK2fCGTthjnswoCQxstBRWOgGyd/s400/gabe+145.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was expecting Channel 7 to be there, because we had gotten to know a reporter there ever since last summer, but I didn't know there would be other cameras and reporters. I was kind of taken off guard, but the message remains the same: the orphan crisis in Russia is real and dire, especially for those children with disabilities. My hope is that all of this political attention to the issue would lead to real change and homes where these children are loved and accepted. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hi Papa, so good to see you again."</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5ItSvYnV8qkVxV1lud9NEp5qmU8NRmNInUjDK87U32EcxAsCFI7WMzxhr8o7dHEQwHUA1Cd24qsk4dD1D1UchTjqbYm_Vvo2WWJCVv4Lln1mIql2jZPQU-z-gHoapZJhOTX-WFW9/s1600/gabe+192+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5ItSvYnV8qkVxV1lud9NEp5qmU8NRmNInUjDK87U32EcxAsCFI7WMzxhr8o7dHEQwHUA1Cd24qsk4dD1D1UchTjqbYm_Vvo2WWJCVv4Lln1mIql2jZPQU-z-gHoapZJhOTX-WFW9/s400/gabe+192+(2).JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kennedy meeting her little brother for the first time.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMc3sKyXd5hMeQrBCSsX9aS6DSIbu9ZCB-tTwryEOLTmxt_VY3ek-JDxPmw7hwUcdUANxE0BDc_I_M8e-iHIAV4G8VJRPX5uzbiv74WWa30AB4tdT6y-dPfH4ZAqEDrYbuNBRLDHbR/s1600/gabe+197+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMc3sKyXd5hMeQrBCSsX9aS6DSIbu9ZCB-tTwryEOLTmxt_VY3ek-JDxPmw7hwUcdUANxE0BDc_I_M8e-iHIAV4G8VJRPX5uzbiv74WWa30AB4tdT6y-dPfH4ZAqEDrYbuNBRLDHbR/s400/gabe+197+(2).JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Thumbs up!"</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjohJkoOfRIyW1YLrEqXaqvgsjgHw_23AOsj7V1aM4-2mUWiFz8Pz2z0OVgNTKahGotW51H059n6kmqYlJoBlIgIhbeVFNJWrFNKTcjSPhdcqC0Ld-L-WE4LrwAtYLo2TEGlDez93eY/s1600/gabe+213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjohJkoOfRIyW1YLrEqXaqvgsjgHw_23AOsj7V1aM4-2mUWiFz8Pz2z0OVgNTKahGotW51H059n6kmqYlJoBlIgIhbeVFNJWrFNKTcjSPhdcqC0Ld-L-WE4LrwAtYLo2TEGlDez93eY/s400/gabe+213.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxMCK-Lmr9dnGhWfODVckNfbslJ30J9-Ep14binOG-QFgx4jiPLodLmeoWvliLBIGohYUWATb-CTE5Rcua8bz_l85EIHkbCdyjxlnZjDLL3e8Qz_P9jmEJCHhW3jvhxRxnEgxgR7RH/s1600/gabe+218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxMCK-Lmr9dnGhWfODVckNfbslJ30J9-Ep14binOG-QFgx4jiPLodLmeoWvliLBIGohYUWATb-CTE5Rcua8bz_l85EIHkbCdyjxlnZjDLL3e8Qz_P9jmEJCHhW3jvhxRxnEgxgR7RH/s400/gabe+218.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My great neighbor and friend. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP4AmfNzXmIVSzq0wdB7LIM_uOn7BEzgJsRKFs8QEW-BgUz6rxmyz6lSSOy5EmZAw28oUkiXIx7fXKPXaVefeEAoNFFLLqv3BaeZ8_Ykhho6TqxNiHx9QKN7TWqqkt78H5oU4Yilo2/s1600/gabe+227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP4AmfNzXmIVSzq0wdB7LIM_uOn7BEzgJsRKFs8QEW-BgUz6rxmyz6lSSOy5EmZAw28oUkiXIx7fXKPXaVefeEAoNFFLLqv3BaeZ8_Ykhho6TqxNiHx9QKN7TWqqkt78H5oU4Yilo2/s400/gabe+227.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxB5dv96yybxlt51eF-LWxjDceLjOkkWwKwdjnjH6vr0jC1ieijGFHoj-XQYc3LTUnRiCgNNp2_MTJ3yaB_5Ndj9RayVfVoQQG7iyORoJp_Aza7U3JEvFzLotuTIyX6VRj9VM67LO_/s1600/gabe+241+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxB5dv96yybxlt51eF-LWxjDceLjOkkWwKwdjnjH6vr0jC1ieijGFHoj-XQYc3LTUnRiCgNNp2_MTJ3yaB_5Ndj9RayVfVoQQG7iyORoJp_Aza7U3JEvFzLotuTIyX6VRj9VM67LO_/s400/gabe+241+(2).JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "triplets" finally meet together for the first time :-) </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC-um_u4UWcufMz5DU2JIPb48CKmBDt9rW40oYZ-va4zKGiETcVOIGsbfpYKbYyQMHxUv4ohB36ZEp2AFwjjFHuChnXJjGUGFQISr-jOZHXi7BiXKjgqbK0fkom9spqo7a74HfRsKL/s1600/gabe+264.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC-um_u4UWcufMz5DU2JIPb48CKmBDt9rW40oYZ-va4zKGiETcVOIGsbfpYKbYyQMHxUv4ohB36ZEp2AFwjjFHuChnXJjGUGFQISr-jOZHXi7BiXKjgqbK0fkom9spqo7a74HfRsKL/s400/gabe+264.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"See you, everyone! I've got my <i>dad</i> now!"</td></tr>
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Some more dear friends had already gone down to baggage claim and got my suitcases and loaded them into our van for me. They told me "your limo is waiting," but I thought they just meant my minivan. When we walked out of the airport and saw an actual limousine waiting for us, we were shocked! Our wonderful friends had gotten this for us as a very thoughtful way for us to be able to <i>all</i> visit together on the drive to our home. It was so perfect, the perfect gift. We spent that ride smiling so much, laughing at the kids being silly together. Brian and I glanced at each other and laughed and wondered at all the extra noise one more little body can add to a family! Jake and Gabe gave each other fist bumps from their car seats, and Kennedy kept exclaiming at how cute Gabe was. It was such a fun, meaningful ride to our home. </div>
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Before we knew it, we were pulling up in front of our house and it was time to unload. I lifted Gabe out of the limo and into his new life. He squinted in the sunshine and seemed to like his new surroundings. When I put him down, he took off running down the sidewalk! It was the epitome of freedom! Brian chased him down and brought him back to the house, laughing the whole way.</div>
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We had made it. Thirty-four days in Moscow and we were finally <i>home</i>. </div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-72431502845146588102013-03-03T21:37:00.002-07:002013-03-03T21:37:48.850-07:00Coming Soon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I just may have the time to blog in the near future. My computer has been extremely slow, so much so that I couldn't upload photos. I finally figured out what was wrong, so there is hope! </div>
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In the mean time, a fun clip of Gabe and Leah being silly the other day while they were eating their cereal snack. Gabe thought Leah was being so hilarious. I love his laugh here-so carefree! </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyxCKLg4UcxX6Y-uaWsYkWrhcOMfiviIIsvhclAtNek1fG5TVU0_P72WheOkv_DtISk8RUlmiyyc_Dd9lp5mQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-9538227308666932782013-02-19T16:34:00.001-07:002013-02-19T16:34:26.364-07:00HomeWe are <em>home</em>...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlj3elTW-0bl2ytNKMOiDkHoMi_EoTK8ppv0_5A1c0vmD5eS3UlWxurQ_HE45fYy6dXx3nOObFLFsGa3KCI6GEO0QR159Hbdj8__XDIwOp_yk8Ey1-DWYLWQhAgQuLWeByxxBOF9Zz/s640/blogger-image--820383514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlj3elTW-0bl2ytNKMOiDkHoMi_EoTK8ppv0_5A1c0vmD5eS3UlWxurQ_HE45fYy6dXx3nOObFLFsGa3KCI6GEO0QR159Hbdj8__XDIwOp_yk8Ey1-DWYLWQhAgQuLWeByxxBOF9Zz/s400/blogger-image--820383514.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo collage by my dear friend and talented photographer Rita Merrick.</td></tr>
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And he is feeling the love of a family for the first time...<br />
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He has a new haircut...<br />
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And has already picked out his favorite toys...<br />
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His smile says it all: "life is good, mama."<br />
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He's still testing his boundaries-dumping food, the cat water, putting things in the toilet. But I can see his little mind figuring out that mom has rules that keep things orderly and peaceful, and he likes that. He is making progress in so many areas, and being a champion at easing into this new life. I can only imagine the shock to his senses the past few days have been, but he has taken them all in stride.<br />
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Our other kids have done amazingly well also, accepting Gabe into our family like it's just another day. Maybe all of the craziness of the past month has helped them realize that no matter what is going on around them, being <em>home, together</em> makes it all okay.<br />
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This was the first time the kids spontaneously invited Gabe to play with them. He <em>loved</em> it! They raced their "cars" back and forth across the floor, and with each lap I felt more and more that everything was going to be just fine.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He found that shirt in Jake's closet and insisted on wearing it.</td></tr>
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This morning before school, Jake told me, "mom, I'm so glad you're back, and Gabe. Gabe is the cutest brother ever." Sweet Jake. Jake has had fun with Gabe following the cat around shouting, "koshka! (cat)", but Gabe prounounces it "Geeza!" It cracks me up how my kids are mimicking Gabe's Russian and vice versa. <br />
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We ended our first full day at home with a movie night, watching Disney's <em>Cars</em>. What little boy doesn't love Cars? Finally, my "triplets" are all under the same roof. Boy is this house going to be busy!<br />
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And of course, it just wouldn't be a full welcome home without Jake & Leah showing Gabe how they just love to put on their swimsuits every day, "just in case" it gets warm enough to swim. They make me laugh so hard; I send them out onto the back porch so they can see if it's warm enough to swim, and they always come running back in, "brrrr!!! Not yet, mom!" </div>
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So far Gabe doesn't know how to open the doors, but we're getting them all latched up for when he does finally figure them out. When we got home from the airport we set him down on the side walk and he immediately took off running! Imagine the freedom he felt: no fences, no restriction, just a dad following along with him to make sure he was safe. It was a beautiful sight. I see many walks in our future.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favorite, from our local newspaper the morning after our arrival. Thanks to my sister-in-law Amy for the American flag!<br />
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**For those who read the Idaho Press Tribune article today and were as surprised as I was about the "hundreds of thousands of dollars" comment, please be assured that was a typo. An AP reporter in Russia mentioned to me, "it must be costing you more to have to stay here longer than planned," to which I replied, "yes, hundreds TO thousands of dollars more (for hotels, food, and transportation)." This was a comment made as an aside and I had no idea he would include it in his story. I honestly haven't read many of the stories that were published while we were in Russia-too busy working to get my son home, so I don't even know if the error was with our loca paper or the original AP story. I would hate for anyone to be discouraged to adopt because of the cost, or for anyone to think you have to have an abundance of disposabe income. Be assured the cost to adopt was nowhere near that number! We felt that this was something we needed to do in our lives and <em>for</em> Gabe's life, and we were blessed to have many family and friends feel the same way and support us. We champion those who help kids anywhere in the world. I believe strongly that we each have ways that we can make this world a better place, and we should do what we feel led to do, whether it be in our own neighborhood, community, and country, or half way around the world.</td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-29140095553630420892013-02-16T14:08:00.000-07:002013-02-16T14:08:05.216-07:00Day Four<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-64930379641479905352013-02-16T14:06:00.002-07:002013-02-16T14:06:33.471-07:00Day ThreeI've had these photos on these posts for a while now and decided to go ahead and pubish them even though I need to come back and write about these days.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Convinced the chef he was worthy of his own hat.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just playin' in the hote room with a balloon.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making pasta in the coffee pot...genius!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaiW3Marv4Z8r9YbkJy1exrhdAI5rToD23mHU_u9hmNzRlw1FHUdAJCjlTqkYEQdvpKppCoXszeR2VDKPX4bV3bAdiU_w1uC5RC6rKoOPqGqy_b_2fbWfoduBgeaesRxuIFFx7NXzf/s640/blogger-image--982975240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaiW3Marv4Z8r9YbkJy1exrhdAI5rToD23mHU_u9hmNzRlw1FHUdAJCjlTqkYEQdvpKppCoXszeR2VDKPX4bV3bAdiU_w1uC5RC6rKoOPqGqy_b_2fbWfoduBgeaesRxuIFFx7NXzf/s400/blogger-image--982975240.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our gourmet spaghetti dinner.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd505ucy4lIOLz1Vm7EqvbClL340eyiCE2OhkgikjQScBQRbXAWIpRFdSnvaK51YJ2ej5i5a4aFnLZ3gUUoMCA7BCXujNnGN6xt_GidvnATXzzLvg_ClLAy4oKDOjSmsLtVhY11taM/s640/blogger-image-1572028290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd505ucy4lIOLz1Vm7EqvbClL340eyiCE2OhkgikjQScBQRbXAWIpRFdSnvaK51YJ2ej5i5a4aFnLZ3gUUoMCA7BCXujNnGN6xt_GidvnATXzzLvg_ClLAy4oKDOjSmsLtVhY11taM/s400/blogger-image-1572028290.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hey mom, are you done getting ready, yet?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggj__ES0A16dmxOCYGgHcNzYhI5P3bm1pVq0vZdoTp25NlgArjmSs-4dcX6_O9QNq6WSXNVXR092Dnlqriua0ng_iXh8-kSnLxMs_BUPBHDsL2_mnqqyYxe_xR3vIshvA_4OdzEctQ/s640/blogger-image--18756941.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggj__ES0A16dmxOCYGgHcNzYhI5P3bm1pVq0vZdoTp25NlgArjmSs-4dcX6_O9QNq6WSXNVXR092Dnlqriua0ng_iXh8-kSnLxMs_BUPBHDsL2_mnqqyYxe_xR3vIshvA_4OdzEctQ/s400/blogger-image--18756941.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready for a nap.</td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-45278483280572375182013-02-14T11:34:00.001-07:002013-02-14T11:34:34.561-07:00TodayJeana and I were up until 2:00 am this morning doing some last minute work for some adoptive families back home. We have accumulated quite the list of contacts in Moscow and wanted to use every last resource we could while still there to help those behind us. We are very encouraged by what is going on and I continue to believe that those families who would like to finish their adoptions will be able to. Yay for hope!<br />
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We finally slept for about five hours and just like clockwork the boy was up at six-thirty. I gave him a bath first thing, which was a happy surprise for him. I can't get over how much he loves the bath. He giggles and shouts and is just purely joyful in the tub. Unfortunately, you can guess how he feels about getting out! He is getting better about it though, not completely falling apart or trying to hit me anymore :-). This little guy has some serious emotions; this next year and beyond will be spent deeply involved in teaching him to trust in his family to be his soft place to land. He wants love and then he wants to push you away almost in the next instant sometimes. However, I'm thinking that much if this has to do with the fact that he's had to spend the past seven days cooped up in a small hotel room with his mama always right there. Even though we've kept busy and ventured out some, it would make me a little moody too. <br />
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Anyway, after his bath my next adventure would be to finish packing. I had packed most of my bags the night before, making a pile of non-essentials that could be left behind if necessary. I still needed to borrow a vacuum from the hotel for my space bags. And I needed another miracle for those suctioned space bags to fit in the two pieces of luggage I had with me, plus two small carry-on shoulder bags (yikes!). At first it seemed impossible, but after a bit of finagling I finally squeezed the last things in. I ended up leaving behind some diapers, one glove (the other gotten eaten by the second hotel in which we'd stayed), some toys I'd brought from home, two neon belts (don't ask), and some hand-warmers. Whew! The housekeeping staff probably got a good laugh out if that pile.<br />
I had to use some shopping bags for carry-ons for Gabe to get the last things packed, but we did it, amazingly. <br />
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We got everything piled by the door and went down to breakfast. By this point in time, Gabe had become an expert on the breakfast buffet. When you arrive you have to sign a little card with your name and room number on it. Well, the past two days he's grabbed a pen and signed his own little card so seriously and official-like. He's finally won over the staff in the breakfast area, after a less-than-stellar first performance our first day there, poor kid. He saw his familiar chef again and motioned for him to come over and give him his chefs hat, which the chef lovingly did. When we left I thanked this kind man for being so sweet to my son and making our breakfast experience so much easier. <br />
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Okay! We went back upstairs, gathered our luggage and checked out. Hooray! Igor picked us up and by some uncanny ability managed to get all of our luggage in his small car. It was a bit like Jenga, but he did it. <br />
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The drive to the airport was full of traffic (no surprise), but we had given ourselves plenty of time to get there.<br />
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I had forgotten to email Brian before we left, so I called him to tell him we were on our way to the airport. Before I hung up I told him the next time I would probably talk to him would be in Los Angeles, and I surprised myself by getting all choked up just thinking about it! My emotions are at the surface these days, my defenses coming down a bit since moving out of "fight mode." <br />
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Checking in at the airport was quite the ordeal. Igor was so kind and helped us with all the luggage. When we hoisted my big bag onto the scales at check-in, the attendant immediately told me in Russian that my bag was too heavy. By twenty pounds!! I gave her a pathetic look and explained I didn't have anywhere to put twenty pounds of luggage! She took pity on me and my boy laying in the floor and let it slide. But when Jeana's luggage hit the scales, her eyes got huge and she seemed so exasperated! Jeana's was only a hundred pounds over :-). But again, she seemed to just want to get rid of us and passed her luggage through anyway. What a blessing! Can you imagine us unloading all this luggage in the middle of the airport, deciding what clothes to throw away? We are so glad we didn't have to do that. <br />
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Even with our big bags checked, we had two carry-ons for us and our kids, so it was quite a time getting ourselves to our gate. On the way there, we stopped to use the restroom and that's when we saw it: the departures screen that showed us our flight had been delayed by THREE HOURS. Are you kidding me? Seriously, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! This meant we would miss our connection to Salt Lake in Los Angeles. <br />
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At this point Jeana was having a really hard time because she has a daughter at home who was just admitted to the hospital with RSV and pneumonia, and she NEEDS to get home to her baby. Also, we had arrived at our gate an hour early already, so now we had four hours to kill in the airport with these two. We had planned on them napping soon after we boarded the plane, but I guess that plan was too perfect to be.<br />
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Jeana got on the phone with her husband, at about 2:00 am Utah time, and told him our situation. He said he'd get right on it and call Delta to figure out what to do about our missed connection. We had hoped we'd be able to just take a later flight to SLC tonight. That didn't work out with how much time we needed at LAX to go through immigration with our kids. So we ended up with the current plan of staying the night in L.A. And heading out in the morning. <br />
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We had to buy lunch, so I left the kids with Jeana and found a place and bought two large sandwiches, four waters and a few potato logs. Price tag? $48.00!!!! Ouch. We had found a nice corner at our terminal that was lined with windows so the kids could watch the planes and all the goings-on outside while we ate. The rest of our hours there were spent walking up and down the terminal, coloring, singing, eating snacks, trying to nap (no success for Gabe), and just trying to stay sane! <br />
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Finally it was time to board. As I held Gabe's little hand while we walked onto the plane and down the long isles, I could feel him slowing down, wondering what on earth we were doing. But he wasn't afraid, in fact he settled right in to the seat where I buckled him and got him comfy with some pillows. He was as glad as I about finally getting this show on the road. We got all excited talking to the kids about going home to see their Papa's and meet their siblings. They were so cute, showing off their new "thumbs up" skills. <br />
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So here we are, halfway into the eleven hour flight to Los Angeles. Gabe is finally asleep, after much convincing and protesting. I am praying he'll sleep at least a couple more hours because I'm starting to wonder how I'll keep this busy boy happy for five more hours! He has been struggling on the plane, I'm sure feeling as cramped as ever. I cannot wait until we are finally in our home, with all that room to walk, explore, and just be! It will be such a relief for both of us. <br />
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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXvjwnXO52uEwx7EmxfkUOdOGjBM0MvggaYM6-brKtUGbBm3A9uanokVtB9IBj3NRgn0CY8fICBxj17aJX4eSYs4LPCphtbeRNsUDSpk6dFLo0YDFvBHDkrxiGAyWEW8K-QuR-NKju/s640/blogger-image--977622094.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXvjwnXO52uEwx7EmxfkUOdOGjBM0MvggaYM6-brKtUGbBm3A9uanokVtB9IBj3NRgn0CY8fICBxj17aJX4eSYs4LPCphtbeRNsUDSpk6dFLo0YDFvBHDkrxiGAyWEW8K-QuR-NKju/s640/blogger-image--977622094.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9EA2RM0rh5MBFCREn8phyZNLl6jGXo_2CVlE3JP78gW4FextU9hyDEUSeymXC7TeturDPqKpzczPNIAh8VIPmfN1OU_qAhEhoK1BB0bR1ey9B2ONJefUgV1MFVt3DKPne8pP3kWz/s640/blogger-image--2075127834.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9EA2RM0rh5MBFCREn8phyZNLl6jGXo_2CVlE3JP78gW4FextU9hyDEUSeymXC7TeturDPqKpzczPNIAh8VIPmfN1OU_qAhEhoK1BB0bR1ey9B2ONJefUgV1MFVt3DKPne8pP3kWz/s640/blogger-image--2075127834.jpg" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000205867037090301.post-33621034519231286872013-02-13T04:10:00.001-07:002013-02-13T04:10:45.369-07:00New PlanOkay, new flight puts us in Boise Thursday. Our plane lands at 4:30 p.m. We are staying the night in Los Angeles. Crazy to even think about lugging all our luggage to a hotel again. Aye! Well, if this past month had taught us anything, it is to be flexible. Hope to see you Thursday! <br />
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I'll throw in some photos to pass the time :-) <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWxlbw1WoLaABFGs1TVzARYkCycHKQUZHh9h4E9Yg78WHzP6JdMJxElMXyQ0quTlT6GKXVtAQxKNJr7Zw2P9jhOyVWA6ZvXi0Ulvzz27gvJimFVxEMnE_OEG2gdOPg3qFghMF9YTwA/s640/blogger-image--382178927.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWxlbw1WoLaABFGs1TVzARYkCycHKQUZHh9h4E9Yg78WHzP6JdMJxElMXyQ0quTlT6GKXVtAQxKNJr7Zw2P9jhOyVWA6ZvXi0Ulvzz27gvJimFVxEMnE_OEG2gdOPg3qFghMF9YTwA/s640/blogger-image--382178927.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-xZ_1M2kGqaNKjo9ZyXP_MNJkt-sMqKh4gWpe5WrIGTB7AuNUnMmKmN08mtdbuKsTth34qshyphenhyphen2cBNnN8XvuZwxCKVH1LfU-afwTCGu4uaGwFRGcb-oZyYeVZSJa8WFejCrs7t0bdC/s640/blogger-image--1512261816.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-xZ_1M2kGqaNKjo9ZyXP_MNJkt-sMqKh4gWpe5WrIGTB7AuNUnMmKmN08mtdbuKsTth34qshyphenhyphen2cBNnN8XvuZwxCKVH1LfU-afwTCGu4uaGwFRGcb-oZyYeVZSJa8WFejCrs7t0bdC/s640/blogger-image--1512261816.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2TGLYsp4Jwk9vKc_v_49ULFRcOiv49pLdVK4QZU87C6V3FcGA0ywbXVF0y7W7iP62adH9Ht-p6h7I8Ou3GAUteTl81SCqN8FHzZ9ro6f1-aSzR_pnfSW-hPeXGNQ8SPpgFwLM_YFC/s640/blogger-image-989048057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2TGLYsp4Jwk9vKc_v_49ULFRcOiv49pLdVK4QZU87C6V3FcGA0ywbXVF0y7W7iP62adH9Ht-p6h7I8Ou3GAUteTl81SCqN8FHzZ9ro6f1-aSzR_pnfSW-hPeXGNQ8SPpgFwLM_YFC/s640/blogger-image-989048057.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXYCVSqlf7vLHfU3ODNI1wDav6kdI2qaS4luK6g4ItqLQsS2Efz7kwrUSKOcJN0xYJowEbu5w9jdUAIHPy3kfiMZRNdCHaG33IMZXL3F-9WWGlDzt5J89ZLKWDeIOzFoPiUegckQYW/s640/blogger-image-809927185.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXYCVSqlf7vLHfU3ODNI1wDav6kdI2qaS4luK6g4ItqLQsS2Efz7kwrUSKOcJN0xYJowEbu5w9jdUAIHPy3kfiMZRNdCHaG33IMZXL3F-9WWGlDzt5J89ZLKWDeIOzFoPiUegckQYW/s640/blogger-image-809927185.jpg" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2