A Very Cold Easter

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am not sure what is going on with the weather here this year. It’s still freezing cold when we are normally sporting t-shirts and maybe shorts. We even had snow fall on easter this year. But we still had a beautiful day celebrating the resurrection!

We kept it simple this year. I completely stole the idea from another blog. (We’ve been doing that more and more often… simplifying. It’s a good feeling.)

When the boys came downstairs, we didn’t make a big production of “Oh, look the Easter Bunny left you something!” because, well, we don’t do the Easter Bunny (just like we don’t do Santa Claus). Oh, the horrors. What they did have was the storybook bible (highly recommend this) opened to the Resurrection. And they each had a little pail with some jelly beans in it for a sweet treat. ANd they also had a card in front of their buckets with a verse for each of them. This is a verse that we (the Mr & Mrs) are committing to pray over them throughout the year. And also a verse the boys will commit to memory sometime this year.

And then we got the boys ready for church. (We woke up extremely late because we finally had our time change and had to spring forward and boys slept in. Normally they would wake up at 7, which would now have been 8. But they slept until 8 which was now 9, and we had to leave for church at 10 to help out with the Easter Egg hunt.) We don’t typically dress up for church on any given Sunday. And really we didn’t this year. But for some reason, I always take Easter Sunday to fancy up the boy a little bit. And this year, they had bow ties. No suits or khaki pants or anything, jeans and sneakers. (I found their bow ties at H&M for maybe 5 euro each.  And they have little mustaches on them. I am not a fan of the mustache craze. (I think it’s a bit played out now. Just like of the Keep Calm and carry on/read a book/have a drink/bake a cake signs.) But it was such a small detail, that I didn’t mind it.

And now… pictures.

Winter still?

One of the things I love about March is the warm weather it brings. We get a break from the cold and dark winter and enjoy the sunshine and warmth before we get soaked in the rains. Some days in March are warm enough for shorts and sundresses.
Last week was warm enough for jeans and a long sleeve tee (though the locals were still bundled up in winter jackets and gloves). And then there was a snow storm. Sort of. First it was ice. Then it was snow and high winds. It made traveling anywhere messy. But it made everything else so still and beautiful.
Normally, I would be one to complain because I really dislike snow and ice. Mostly I don’t like driving in it not do I like having to bundle up the kids to go anywhere. This time though, I enjoyed the snow. It was ridiculously beautiful. And the sun was shining, which made a huge difference. While most if my friends on FB were complaining, I was oddly the voice of joy. The peacefulness of the land calmed me. The beauty amazed me. I appreciated that God basically took my breath away with showing me that He made this for us not only to delight in but also a reminder to slow down.

A dream.

Jon and I had a baby-sitter the other night. Our first REAL baby-sitter. (We’ve only used friends/family before.) After our evening out (to a friends birthday party) I was driving our sitter home. She is such a bright and sweet girl. She’s been living overseas for the past 6 years (military kid) and loves it. She loves the history of it all. We were talking about places we get to travel and see and experience. At thirteen years old, she is wise enough to understand that this is not normal for most people. Most people in the states get to travel the states and maybe Mexico and the Caribbean. Some get to visit Europe. But when they do, it requires planning and a huge budget. She understands this. She understands that most people can’t decide to hop in the car and drive the 4 hours to Paris, 2.5 hours to Amsterdam, 7 hours to Poland. In a days worth of driving, we can be in Italy (or take a last minute flight). She understands that spring break for most doesn’t mean a trip to the Canary Islands or Morocco.

We talked about that a bit. It’s normal for her now but not for most. We talked about how I felt about it all. And how I want to cherish the opportunities we have here, because this may very well be our only overseas assignment and I may never be presented with these opportunities again. And how I don’t want to seem snobbish about the fact that  I have the chances to do these crazy amazing things and visit these breathtakingly beautiful places. I don’t ever want it to seem common and normal to me. Because it isn’t. It’s a chance of a lifetime.

I can’t believe that I’ve been able to go the places I have. That I have my own favorite winery in Luxembourg. That I can find my way around Paris by foot or subway pretty decently. That I have had my dream of visiting Greece come true. That this summer, I’ll hopefully be in Bavaria playing around on the Zugspitze with my boys and in-laws, hopefully doing the Sound of Music tour and being heartbroken by visiting concentration camps. Or that I’m planning a quick trip to Poland, stepping foot on the grounds that my ancestors are from, while enjoying food that reminds me of my Babcia and buying some beautiful pottery. That our big trip for next years is envisioned in my head and I am so excited to go and hike some magical places in Croatia.

Y’all. This is a dream. And one day it will end. And I will be content with the blessings the Lord has given me and treasure them until my mind no longer holds the memories.

Santorini, Greece

Ever since I first saw the movie “Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants” I have wanted to go to Santorini. Surely, this place could be real, right? It was so beautiful in the movie. And then I was able to go because of the cruise. And y’all, Y’ALL, it is just a beautiful. We had a wonderful tour guide that grew up on the island, married another local, and they are raising their family on the island. She was so warm and friendly. She made sure to take us to the touristy areas (love) and then we also asked her to take us to the locals area… where the locals live (LOVE LOVE). It made our short stop on Santorini a little hurried, but I am glad we were able to see where they lived (she showed us her house) and hear from her about the struggles they face. (Basically everything they need in order to survive – except wine and fish – has to be imported to the island. S the costs are ridiculously inflated. And don’t forget the 19% VAT that is added into the price of everything in the EU- it’s like sales tax – so the already high prices because of importing the goods is even more costly.  And of course the economic struggles of the entire country of Greece. Yikes.)

Anyway. I shed a few tears on Santorini because it was so breathtaking. And because I really struggled believing I was able to be there.

Here are some photos.

This probably one of the most photographed domes on the island. (But after looking at other photos of this dome, they’ve apparently cut out the power lines, but I left ’em, because the power lines are there.)

I love the white buildings and the bright blue doors and shutters.

 

 

The views are breathtaking. I had to wipe away tears so Jon wouldn’t make fun of me.

 

And major props to Jon on this leg of the cruise. He did everything he could to let me enjoy my time on Santorini and wrangled the kids so I could take it all in.

Oh!!!! And!!!! The cruise ships are too big to port at Santorini, so they have to sort of shuttle us to the island on much smaller boats. And then you have to ride a gondola (ski lift) up the side of the island or ride a donkey up it (or walk in the donkey excrement up it). Two in our group rode a donkey. We took the gondola. But when it was time to go back to the cruise ship, the line to ride the gondola down was insanely long. And we didn’t want to ride the donkeys with a 5 year old and an 11 month old. So we walked the winding, donkey poop covered, slippery stone, switchbacks to get back down to get in line to get shuttled back tot he cruise ship. It was crazy.)

And, jon said we ARE going to head back to Santorini one day. We didn’t have enough time to enjoy the beauty of the island and the people there.

Venice

This past Spring,w e took a trip with a group of friends. This trip was really a cruise through the Greek Isles. Lucky for us, the port was in Venice. And even more lucky for us (not our bank account though) Ryan air only flew ti Venice from here on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and our cruise was Sunday through Sunday. We basically had two nights in Venice before our cruise and then one evening after our cruise.

For the first two nights we stayed on Venice.

*Sidebar. I was REALLY confused when we were all planning on where to stay and people were talking about staying on Venice or not. I didn’t know that Venice is built on the water. I really had no understanding of Venice at all. It never dawned on me that the gondolas went through canals, meaning that there is water everywhere. To get to Venice, we landed at the airport in Treviso, took a bus to someplace (I don’t know if it’s consider Venice or Treviso, or what) and then took a water taxi (a small ferry type boat) to Venice. Oh, also on venice, no cars. It’s all walking and some bikes. But mostly walking. Crazy cool!!!!!

Here are a few pictures of our time there.

This is the canal directly out the door of our hotel.

There was a courtyard near our hotel, and a beautiful rooftop garden. I dreamt of sitting out there sipping coffee and reading.

Jon and Giblet overlooking a canal

Just wow. I can’t imagine living there. How amazing (except during the rainy season… that can’t be fun).

We rode a gondola!!! It wasn’t really too expensive. I think because we went with a gondola that was more inside Venice.

I loved Venice. And I consumed an INSANE amount of gelato. Almost all of the little vendors had coconut gelato! I love me some coconut! Oh, there was a downpour of rain on Saturday night. We got stuck in it with our friends. It was crazy because it was dark and we were in the little alleyways and no umbrella. We had two kids, the family we were wandering around with had two kids. We were soaking wet. And we couldn’t find out way to our hotel. We’d see an alley we thought looked familiar and take it, and end up somewhere we hadn’t experienced. Chaos. But a memory to have!

Paris, France (back in May)

Over Memorial Day Weekend, we did a quick trip to Paris to meet up with some of our friends that were visiting the area. They moved away from Illinois in November 2009 and we hadn’t managed to meet up with each since then. It’s crazy to me that of all places we get to spend time together, it was in Paris!

Unfortunately, I didn’t get to take many pictures this time because we had two kids with us (last time, we only had Gibbers as Giblet wasn’t born yet). And Jon’s mom was with us and she was taking oodles of pictures. And because when we were with Rodney and Sarah, Sarah and I spent most of our timing just talking away, like we did when we lived in the same state.

As usual, we were excited to be on the Champs Elysee. (If you didn’t know, Jon and I did a lot of road cycling when we lived in las Vegas which turned us on to the Tour de France, and they finish the race riding down the Champs Elysee. And for some reason, we found it funny to take a picture by the Cartier store… you can’t see the security guard standing outside of the store, or the guards immediately inside the doors. It’s a place we would never go in… we probably can’t afford to breathe the air in there.

We did actually visit the Arc de Triomphe. (Last time, we didn’t know how to get to it because it’s in the middle of one of the craziest, busiest roundabouts in Paris. Turns out… the entrance is underground, right off the Champs Elysee.)

Gibbers always wants to look through these things, and we never pay money for him to use them, but he does an awfully good job pretending.

 

 This is a sculpture inside the Arc de Triomphe. The picture doesn’t really show how massive it is.

 

Here’s a view of Paris from the top of the Arc. (The stairs to climb up weren’t horrible. I did it with Giblet on my back.)

And the Eiffel Tower from the top of the Arc. (FYI – we walked from the Arc, to the Eiffel and then to Louvre that day. Whoa.)

 

Here’s Sarah and I at the top of the Arc. (Giblet is in the KozyKarrier on my back.)

Okay, so here’s a little back story on these next pictures. We were getting ready to go find some dinner and we saw a group of people organized for a parade. Then we saw the American flag in there. We had no idea what was going on. But we stayed and watched.I’m pretty patriotic and seeing our colors can usually bring tears to my eyes. Seeing Veterans carrying our colors does it. And seeing older veterans just tugs at my heart strings. I actually walked up to these two gentleman and thanked them for serving our country, and for carrying our colors. Seeing our flag in a foreign country… a very touristy foreign country, where you have no idea what may happen brought tears to my eyes. These gents were so sweet. The one looking at the camera when I took this picture served in the Korean War. There is a much ollder looking gentleman next to him that SURVIVED NORMANDY!!!! ohmylanta. I didn’t necessarily recall much about Normandy, just that it was a bloody massacre when they came on the beaches and he survived y’all!!!

 

And then I had to get a picture of the sweet guy representing Poland. He’s one of my peeps! (Yup, part polish.)

Oh, and to top it off, the Honor Guard from our area was there to present our colors. Man, I love our country.

 

After all of that, I got to googling to figure out what was going on. Granted it was Memorial Day weekend in the states, but that didn’t make sense for anything to be done in Paris, with other countries represented as well.

Here’s the deets…

From Arcdetriompheparis.com

A daily ritual pays tribute to the Great Dead: each evening, at six-thirty, a flame is rekindled by one of the nine hundred associations of former combatants regrouped under the association La Flamme sous l’Arc de Triomphe. During the Occupation, this daily kindling rite was performed unperturbed. On 26 August 1844 at three o’clock in the afternoon, before descending triumphantly down to Champs-Elysees within liberated Paris, general Charles de Gaulle came to lay down the white-flowered Cross of Lorraine on the Tomb of the unknown Soldier.

Y’all.. they do this every day! These gentleman now live in France or the surrounding area and do this whenever they can. (I think it just so happened that our Honor Guard was in the are for the Memorial Day traditions at one of our National Cemeteries in the area, so they also took the time to do this.) Can you imagine if something like that happened in the states? In Paris, they close off traffic on a very busy road/interesection/roundabout. That wouldn’t fly in the states. And that saddens me. We are always in such a hurry and people would not tolerate it. But they do this every day in Paris. Every. Single. Day. To honor the fallen. To always remember.

And that, was Paris, in a nutshell.

*I also went to Paris again in August with my momma and grandma. I didn’t take many pictures that time. But it was wonderful!

9+ months

It’s been 9+ months since I posted on this blog. Sorry about that. I know my readers are few, but I also know you still appreciate updates on our family or our travels. Just because there are only a few of you, doesn’t mean yoga rent important. The people that read this are mostly composed of family or dearest friends that I consider family. And I’m good with that.

And now, I’m going to work on bringing this bad boy up to date. If you’re a FB friend, most of the pictures in  he upcoming posts will be repeats to you. But it’s gotta be done.

If you subscribe by email, you’ve been warned. Over the next week or so (ideally) you’ll be getting a lot of notifications.

the story of Gibbers

In 2001, the united states was attacked by terrorists who overtook planes. they flew three planes into buildings, and one plane landed in a field because of the heros that were flying on it. we knew gibby would deploy shortly after that. we had been married almost two years and were gearing up to start a family. we decided to wait until he got home from his deployment, so he would’t miss a thing.
while gibby was deployed, i found out i couldn’t have children without medical intervention. and even then, there wasn’t any guarantee.
later, we tried only three rounds of clomid, a little pill that should help me have a baby. it was miserable trying those pills. it put so much pressure on us. during the third round, we were approached about adoption. there was a baby, already born, and her teenage mother wanted to place her with a family that could give her more. this teenage mommy didn’t have the help of her own family. once she told her family that she was going to place the baby with an adoptive family, her family decided to help. we were crushed, of course, but it was probably for the best. but, during that time, building our family by adopting was confirmed.
*sidebar – adoption was always in our plans. i had always planned on adopting since i was a child. our plan was to have a few “of our own” and adopt also. adoption was never a back-up plan, or a consolation prize.
we waited patiently for the timing to be right to start on our adoption journey. little did we know that it would be the end of 2006 / beginning of 2007 for our journey to begin.
late in 2006, we applied to be part of a charter program with an agency. they were gearing up to start processing adoptions in ethiopia. unfortunately, we did not fit the bill. they needed the best of the best applicants to gain favor with the country. gibby’s job in the military, my job in a bank, and our lack of college degrees just didn’t cut the cheese. we were again heartbroken.
on january 7, 2007 we received a phone call from some old friends in las vegas. an elvis impersonator knew of a lady that just had a child and wanted to place him with an adoptive family.  it was scary for us to even consider. we didn’t know any details and we didn’t want anything to fall through again. we called some very close friends and family and asked them to pray for guidance for us, because we knew in our hearts that our vision was too cloudy with the proposition to see what God’s plan was. we received confirmation from both couples that this was the child God had planned for us.
we called our friend back and said we were going to try and we were given information to contact a lady. the lady was the boss of the birth mother and was helping her figure things out. it seemed fishy but we were trusting God in this. gibby talked to her and told her a little about ourselves. then she sent us a picture of a sweet baby boy. we were instantly in love.

the picture we received

a day later, the boss lady called us back and said she had something to tell us. the baby was born 7 weeks early and was in the NICU. he weighed only 4 lbs 2 oz at birth. and there was a legal hold on him because the birth mother tested positive for drugs. she wasn’t sure if there would be any developmental complications because of this. she asked if we still wanted to proceed. we did… without a doubt, and with trust in God, we did.
a few days later, we met with an adoption agency and got things moving. we were running around doing finger prints, writing our family history, filling out forms. on january 15th, i landed in las vegas to meet with the birth mother and see this baby.
i remember the first time i went to the hospital, i wasn’t allowed to hold him because we had to have authorization to visit (because of the legal hold). i saw him through a window and i cried. the birth mother called the social worker that was in charge of the baby and told her that she planning on placing him with an adoptive family and that she wanted me to be able to visit. the social worker gave me authorization.
i remember visiting and holding that baby the first time. i cried. and i prayed. and the nurses had me feed a bottle. they told me how strong the baby was. how even though he was so premature, he never required oxygen or any other assistance. he was only in the NICU because of his birthweight. and he would be there until he weighed 5 pounds.
i remember a father coming to visit his baby that was also in the NICU. the nurses tried to remove him because they smelled liquor on his breath. he got mad and started causing a scene and becoming aggressive. i held on to the baby tight and prayed over him for safety. the guards finally removed the man and i cried tears of relief.
i remember holding the baby and whispering his new name. it fit him perfectly.
the next three weeks were a whirlwind. i was dealing with the birth mother, who was still using drugs. when she was sober, she was easy to deal with, when she was under the influence, she was impossible to deal with. it was such a struggle. i found myself doing things that i normally wouldn’t do… i was driving through and stopping in areas of las vegas that weren’t safe. i was meeting her at a hang out that wasn’t safe. i was surrounded by drug addicts. i was calling people that she would do drugs with while trying to locate her because she asked me to call. but i had no fear. God was there and protecting me.

it was the most exhausting time of my life.

the birth mother was changing her mind. at her court date, the judge had told her to place the baby with me, or they were going to take the baby and place him into foster care and fast track the revocation of her rights. when she heard that, she wanted to fight the system. she didn’t want anyone telling her what to do. i hit the wall one night, and surrendered, i told God i wasn’t moving on anything without His push.

the next day, gibby made it out to vegas (he was finishing up home study stuff in illinois). he became the one to deal with the birth mother. gibby is not normally the most patient of people when it comes to ridiculous things. and the birth mother was being ridiculous. she didn’t want to talk to me. or him. she called the hospital and told them that she didn’t want us to see the baby. she wasn’t answering any of the phone numbers we had for her. we tracked her down at the bar she would sometimes work at. gibby talked to her. he actually yelled at her. and whatever he said got through to her.

the first time he held gibbers

the next day, we all went to the hospital together so jon could see the baby for the first time. we all went into the NICU together. gibby held him and it was so sweet. i was sitting near the birth mother and she started crying. she whispered quietly, “i’m gonna let you have him. i just needed to see that you love him.” i thanked her and quietly prayed for her.

we set up an appointment with the attorney and agency in las vegas for her to surrender her parental right. on january 24, 2007, she went into the attorney’s office first and it seemed to take for ever. jon and i were pacing the front office. the attorney came out and told us she had just signed the paper surrendering her rights. we then went in to sign papers giving our intention to adopt him.  after that, they called the social worker to tell her that we were indeed adopting the baby and that the legal side was done. the social worker told them the baby had just been released from the NICU and was at a foster home. she would try to get hold of the foster mom to meet us and release the baby. and that if things had been delayed one more day, the baby would be in the foster system and we would not have been able to adopt him. we were in the clear because it was all on the same day. (God’s timing is amazing.)

i remember us calling our families to tell them the news. the words i told my mom through tears were, “i’m a mommy! gibby’s a daddy! and we have a baby!!!!”

we ended up having to wait one more day to pick up the baby. it was surreal. we signed more papers. one of the papers was us declaring what we would name him. it was great to say his name out loud. and we met with the foster mom. oh, the sweet relief when she handed the baby to us.

us and the foster mom

i remember when we finally had the go ahead from the social worker in las vegas to leave the state. there was a hiccup. we had permission to leave the state of nevada but we didn’t have clearance to take the baby into illinois yet. we went to oklahoma and spent time with gibby’s family.

flying out of las vegas as a family of three!

it took 18 days from beginning the journey to placement. the fastest our agency has ever done. it was the longest 18 days of my life. i remember heading back to illinois. we didn’t tell a sole we were coming. we had dinner at taco bell and watched the pasta house burn down across the street. i talked to one of my friends, sarah, on the phone and she said the pasta house burned down, i said “yeah, we watched it from the taco bell across the street.” i let it slip… she caught on that we were back! she kept it a secret until we went to church the following sunday. only she and a friend, jodie, that was at her house knew we were back. when we walked in the door of the church on sunday, jodie came running out and met us. she had been watching the door like a hawk, knowing we would be coming.

it was such a relief to start living life again. to stop holding our breath.

it’s been 5 years since that day. not a day goes by that i don’t think about the birth mother and the miracle that gibbers is. i frequently pray for his birth mother. i pray her life has turned towards improvement. that she is no longer and addict. that she has a job and a roof over her head. i pray that her heart is at peace, and that she doesn’t ache for this sweet boy. and i thank her. i thank her for surrendering the fight and placing him with us.

i give thanks to God every day. He carried us through that chaos. He executed things in His perfect timing. He made me a mommy.

it’s hard to believe ti’s been that long and that the tiny baby boy is now a handsome and spirited 5 year old (who is currently singing songs he made up and dancing in the living room).

And we celebrated!!!!

A few weeks ago (fine, almost a month ago) Gibbers turned 5. Five, y’all!!!! How did this happen?

There’s a downfall of having a winter birthday  in Germany (as compared to Tennessee). It’s guaranteed to be cold. And a cold day for a birthday for a kid just isn’t fun. There are plenty of indoor play places around here (and some of them scare the stink out of me). But the price is HIGH and with the dollar v. euro… it’s even more expensive to us American folk. Luckily I new of a petting farm where most of the attractions were inside the barn. We went with that; though it was still cold, all of the kids had a great time.

The kids played inside the barn with all of the animals to pet, went inside the chicken coop (it’s a nice, open air coop) and chased down some chickens, had a tractor ride, played in the hay, on a tire swing and in a room full of corn kernals. They had food and cake, too. And we ran out of time (meaning it was getting late and we were all TIRED) to play on the outside playground or do the pony ride. (Shhhh! DOn’t tell the kids they could have had a pony ride!)

Here are some pictures of the birthday boy for the long distance family and friends that are still bitter that I cancelled my FB, therefore reducing the frequency of picture viewing. (Pardon and out-of-focus-pictures. It’s nearly impossible to get a very excited 5 year old to hold still for the camera.)

 

 

 

 

On his 5th birthday…

How in the world do we have a 5 year old? I know we’re in our mid-thirties and most people our age have kids that are already in the double-digit-ages. But seriously. How did all of this happen so quickly?

It was almost two weeks ago that our guy turned 5. Five. Still hard to wrap my head around. Here are a few pictures of his special day.

He wanted KFC for dinner. And luckily, there is one about 20 minutes away in the Netherlands. (Unfortunately, they don’t carry my favorite side items – mac & cheese and mashed potatoes. Those dutch peeps have no idea what they’re missing.) He really wanted their spicy wings. And he tore them up!

And a special occurrence happened (other than turning 5)… he had his first piece of gum. (Seriously, he hasn’t had a piece of gum in his first 5 years.) We provided a vast array of options gum-wise (gum balls, bubbalicious, sugar free sticks, sour gum) and his first try was a traditional gumball. It was so cute… he didn’t know what to do with it. The hubs had to tell him what to do.

We also made cakes that day and he was able to decorate his own cake however he wanted…. and like however much frosting he wanted.

                            

It was a pretty sweet and low-key birthday. He got a Step-2 playgym from us for his birthday that we put in the basement so he can play with it year round. He was pretty excited when he came into the basement and saw it.

Happy Birthday to our big boy!