Please excuse my absenteeism, I have spent the last few days getting ready for a trip to visit my family.

We left yesterday morning, just Isaiah, Caleb and I, on an eight hour car drive through Eastern Oregon. A car drive that consists of nearly 250 miles of sagebrush and rolling hills that seem to go on, and on, and on. But luckily there are cows, lots of cows, to break up the monotony. So of course, after dealing with five hours of "are we there yet", and "I'm hungry", I can't help but seize the opportunity for another type of conversation.

As I stopped the car just two feet from a very large cow, and rolled down my window, the boys nervously said, "what are you doing mom?" And then, with a deep gutteral sound, I said, MOOOO.

The cow just stared at me with a dumb look, then it blinked and continued to chew it's cud. And as I turned toward the back seat, I noticed that the boys were doing the exact same thing (minus chewing the cud part). And suddenly I was very aware that it was just me on the road. Me, two boys and a whole lot of cattle.

Speaking of boys, it seems that mine have bladders the size of peanuts, and voices that can rival a bull horn. Neither of which, I realized, are good on road trips. We stopped numerous times to go to the bathroom, which, let me tell you, is no easy task when you can only hide behind sagebrush. And just for clarification here, I am talking solely about myself. The boys were blessed with appendages that make urinating outside much more doable, and therefore, do not understand the awkward situation I found myself in several times yesterday.

It's okay though, because clearly I had already gone mad. Not only was I seeking conversation with cows, but I also stooped low enough to threaten to leave my children, the children that the good Lord blessed me with, standing on the side of the road in the middle of nowhereville.

To be honest, I'm not sure if my threats are what caused them to be quiet, or if it was because my face turned red and the veins popped out of my neck as I screamed at them to quit screaming. Either way, it worked, and my sanity returned. And nine hours after leaving Boise, we pulled into my moms driveway, smiling as though I hadn't really gone crazy, or tried talking to a cow, or hid behind sagebrush.

And now that we are here, I'm hoping that maybe, just maybe, I will have a chance to write a few posts while here..that is, if I don't go mad first.

I'm having one of those days.

You know, the days where nothing goes quite right.

It doesn't help that I woke up feeling irritable before I even got out of bed. But shortly after walking into our laundry room I noticed that the laundry has managed to double overnight, and then proceed to eat half of every pair of socks that we own.



The kitchen has taken on a mind of its own making it look like my refrigerator burped up all of its contents onto my counters.



The boys have trashed the house...



And did so while yelling and fighting with each other the entire time.

Oh, and my pants are fitting a little more snug than usual...ugh.

Then I remembered Jesus talking about giving rest to the weary. Now if I could only find that verse...oh, here it is:

Matthew 11:28
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest chocolate.



Amen. And amen.

Now please, no comments about the correlation between the chocolate bar and my ill-fitting pants. After-all, Jesus gave it to me, so it must be holy, and therefore, calorie free.

Can I get another amen?

It seems that we have a lying problem in our house.

Actually, Caleb has a lying problem, and while he has yet to realize that he is a horrible liar, everybody else in our house is fully aware of this fact. This is due, in part, to several things.

1 - His eyes take on a blank stare and his voice gets quiet as he thinks of something (a lie perhaps?) to say. (This is my cue to start the cross-examination).

2 - His story starts changing. Like today, when he and our neighbor started arguing about the water bottle Caleb was holding. Caleb insisted it was his and that he found it on his bed in our house. Oh wait, I mean he found it on the rocking chair in the living room...er, under the rocking chair that is. Oops, I totally forgot, it was on the freezer in the garage, and then it rolled into the street. Yeah, that's the ticket.

3 - I'm not stupid. I've been through this with Isaiah before. I can spot a lie before it forms and comes out of their mouths. It's kind of like walking towards your sleeping child's bedroom, and before you even open the door, you can tell that your child has vomited at some point in his sleep, all because of that rancid, tell-tale smell that has seeped under the door and permeated the entire hallway. Yeah, it's kind of like that.

So, yes, Caleb was caught in a lie today. And because he needs to learn that lying is unacceptable, what better way to get my point across than to give him a spoonful of this:



No, it's not sugar. And no, it doesn't help the medicine go down. Unless, of course, the medicine was meant to make a statement; a statement that says this behavior will not be tolerated. In which case I say, "drink it up, baby, drink it waaay up."



Yes Caleb, I can see you pointing in the sink, but you can't spit it out just yet. I need to get a few more pictures of this.

Only time will tell if the point was made, but mercy, it really smells like vinegar in here. And now, dang-it, I'm really in the mood for a salad.

I have a confession to make.

For the past three years I have been doing something that I never, ever thought I would do, let alone enjoy.

Something that has a tendency to get my house really hot and steamy.

But I think it's time that I get it out in the open, so here it goes...

I love to can.

Good grief, what were you thinking?

Yes, it's true, canning has become a big part of my life. I love the satisfaction of hearing the lids pop as they seal themselves. I love seeing my pantry full of pretty jars filled with various jams, fruit, peppers, salsa and green tomato relish. But most of all I love the sometime serious, sometimes funny conversations that occur while my friends and I can together.

So because this time of year is filled with endless opportunities for canning, I thought I might devote a few blog posts on that very subject. I will be canning as foods ripen over the coming months, and will be sure to post recipes and pictures. Luckily, I already have 1 batch of canned jam under my belt this year, and so I will share it with you.


Strawberry-Rhubarb Jam
This stuff is to die for.



* 1 Cup cooked red-stalked rhubarb (it takes about 1 pound, or 4-6 stalks of rhubarb and 1/4 cup of water to equal 1 cup of cooked rhubarb)
* 2 1/2 cups crushed strawberries ( about 1 1/2 - 2 quarts whole strawberries)
* 6 1/2 cups sugar
* 1 box fruit pectin - such as Sure-Jell

Yield: 7-8 half-pint jars

To prepare fruit, rinse rhubarb and thinly slice; do not peel. Add water, then cover and simmer until tender (about 1 minute). Rinse strawberries; remove tops, then crush. Remember, this is jam not jelly, so you will want the strawberries to be slightly chunky...just not too chunky!



Measure prepared fruit into a large pot. Add sugar and stir well. Stir constantly on high heat, until it comes to a full boil (it must bubble over the entire surface). Boil hard for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Remove from heat and stir in fruit pectin. Skim the foam off the top.

Fill hot jam immediately into hot, sterile jars, leaving 1/4 inch headspace. Be sure to wipe rims of jars with a damp cloth, then place sterilized lids on filled jars and tighten the screw bands.

Process in a boiling water canner for 10 minutes; 15 minutes if you live above 6,000 feet.

***Very important*** If you have never canned before, but would like to try it, I recommend that you go here for information on how to use boiling water canners, and here to learn how to sterilize empty jars.

I know canning can be a little intimidating at first, but you will quickly get the hang of it...I promise!

I woke up this morning...late.

I hate that.

I think I have mentioned before that I am a morning person, but it seems that lately I can't get out of bed before 7:30 am. I think it has to do with the fact that I can't get to bed before midnight anymore, and I have a couple of reasons why.

1 - It stays light well past 10pm during the summer here in Idaho, and it throws my whole body off.
2 - I have been reading some really good books lately, and can't seem to put them down.
3 - I drink nearly a half gallon of iced tea every afternoon, much to the detriment of my bladder, but its my afternoon pick-me-up, and so it shall stay.

But I had every intention of waking up early this morning because it seems that I have become a little lax in certain areas of my life, namely...um...exercise. You see, it has become more and more apparent, as the temperature has started to soar, and my capri pants have been replaced by shorts, that things are not nearly as toned as they used to be. But I was shocked yesterday when I looked down and noticed that the area on my thighs that I've never really liked has crept a little closer to my knees over the past twelve months.

So when I woke up an hour and a half after my alarm clock went off, I just growled, because not only did I not get my exercise in, but I was starting the day off way behind schedule.

And being behind schedule on an already busy day is not a good thing for me. You see, I can be quite scatterbrained and forgetful, so naturally, adding more chaos to what is already going on in my head really cramps my style.

So I made a list to keep me focused and productive.

Exercise
Bible Study
Clean Bathrooms
Laundry
Water Garden
Go To Library
Go To Reggies Veggies
Get Dinner Prepared

But by 10:30 this morning nothing on my list had been accomplished, and so I decided to try something different.

Mow Lawn (yep, did that yesterday)
Exercise
Bible Study
Fill Car With Gas (I still have half a tank...no worries there)
Clean Bathrooms
Laundry (Starting a load counts for something, right?)
Water Garden
Go To Library (I'll just skip it and pay the late fees)
Go To Reggies Veggies
Prepare Dinner (I think its a noodles and butter night)

Wow, I feel better already!

I suppose it's about time that I update you on the adoption. And really, what can I say except that not much is happening. We are still waiting and, in fact, have been told that we should expect to wait up to 12 months now, which isn't bad considering we have almost hit our 9 month mark.

What's another three months, right?

I can't believe how quickly time has gone though. Last year, while eating my pulled pork sandwich during our Fourth of July celebration, I remember thinking, "this time next year we might be celebrating with our daughter." And then in the blink of an eye, it was suddenly 'this time next year' and instead of pulled pork, I was eating some seriously delicious brisket, and it occurred to me that she still wasn't here.

Then I got worried because I remember thinking that same thought while eating smoked salmon on Christmas Eve (I know, I have strange thought processes, but I function well that way.) , and if I let my first experience be the judge, I probably shouldn't expect that she will be here by Christmas either. And the more I thought about how I have been relating all these dates with our daughter being home, the more I thought that I was just jinxing myself...in a Murphy's Law kind of way.

To take it one step further, I thought we should plan a big trip because according to Murphy's Law, if we were to plan a trip, we would receive our referral and, coincidentally, have to be in Russia on the exact dates of our other trip. Yeah, I had this thing figured out. I was on a roll, and could speed up this adoption on my own.

And then I realized how stupid I was being. I mean, seriously, who is in control here? It certainly isn't me. And Murphy's Law, while admittedly ironic, is not in control either. God is.

Ahhh...I am now breathing a huge sigh of relief.

It's tiring trying to be in control of something that I have no right controlling. It's like I am spinning my wheels but going nowhere. And then just when I think I am going to go crazy, the Lord reminds me that He will take care of the details, all I need to do is trust Him...oh, and fill out lots of paperwork.

Now getting to my original purpose for this post, I wanted to share with you something that God has done for us, to remind us that He is in control. I know that some people who read this blog will think this is just pure coincidence, but I know, that I know, that I know, this was orchestrated by God.

Three months ago I sent in an application to Shaohanna's Hope, for an adoption grant. I wasn't sure if we would receive a grant, as they are generally given to families with the greatest need, but I felt the Lord impress on me that I should submit an application. Upon submitting the application, I was told that it would take anywhere from 3-4 months before a decision would be made.

And so we waited.

Several months passed and I kind of forgot about the loan...not completely...it's just that it wasn't on my mind as I checked our mail last Thursday. As I sorted through the unusually large pile of mail, discarding all the junk, two pieces stood out. The first was from Shaohanna's Hope, and it was a letter stating that because of the high volume of applicants, and their limited resources, they were unable to provide financial assistance for our adoption.

Just so you know, the Lord has told us that He would provide for this adoption, and I never doubted that, but there have been times that I worried a little bit. I often wondered where the money would come from, so when I sent in the application to Shaohanna's Hope, somewhere in the back of my mind I thought, "this must be it, because why would the Lord ask me to do it otherwise." You can only imagine how devastated, and panicked I would have been if not for the following piece of mail that just so happened to come on the same day...

This letter came in the form of a card that was personally addressed to Adam and I. As I opened the anonymous card, my mouth dropped open when I realized that inside was a large donation for our adoption.

In one day, one batch of mail, we experienced rejection and redemption.

Coincidence? I don't think so.

Here's the thing, and I know this to be true, God had planned this all along. His timing was perfect. His grace, abounding. And His reminder...well, let's just say I put Him back in control.

Have a blessed day,
Anna

I had a dream last night that we we moved back to Singapore. Since waking up, my mind has been flooded with the sights, sounds, smells and the food, oh the food, of Singapore, and it makes me want to go back.

While I speak longingly about Singapore, the truth is, I hated it when we first moved there. Don't get me wrong, the moment our plane touched down, I could feel the surge of excitement in my body. I mean, here we were, just the four of us, Adam, Isaiah, Caleb and I, on our first real adventure. An adventure, when all was said and done would prove to be one of the greatest experiences of our lives. We knew, of course, that there would be times of trials and frustration. We weren't ignorant of the fact that we would have to make some major adjustments while living in a new country. It's just that we didn't expect our adventure would turn sour shortly after boarding the plane in Los Angeles, headed for Tokyo.

You see, I failed to mention before, that Caleb was only 17 months old at the time, and had just learned to walk one month prior to our trip. Now you may be wondering why he was such a late walker, and I will be the first one to tell you that it was all my doing. Here's why...Isaiah was an early walker. In fact, he didn't really walk as much as run, and climb, and do things that no ten month old should ever do. But I never really worried about him because he has always been a very coordinated person. Seriously, he was like a cat, always landing on his feet. Caleb on the other hand, was not, and so I never encouraged it. It was pure selfishness on my part. I wasn't ready to deal with the tumbles and falls that I knew Caleb would take, nor was I ready to deal with the constant vigilance it takes when you have a new walker; a walker who is full of curiosity but lacking discernment. But most of all, I wasn't ready to let my baby grow up any faster than he already was. And so I would gently push him back down whenever he would stand. I would beg and plead with him not to walk. I wanted him to stay cuddly and kissable forever. In all honesty, he wasn't in a big hurry anyway, and that made me happy.

Then one day Caleb started walking, or as I like to put it, stumbling, flopping and tumbling. Just like that he was no longer content sitting in my lap and playing, and it happened shortly before we had to make that horribly long flight.

Now, if you have a child at this stage of life, here is what not to do. Do not, I repeat, do not put them on a 21 hour flight across the Pacific Ocean.

Nothing good can come of it. Nothing.

I kid you not, Caleb screamed for seven of the twelve hours it took us to fly to Tokyo. And believe me when I say that it's a good thing that there are no automatic windows on the airplane because if there were, you can be sure that I would have been out the window in a flash. It would not have mattered if we were 30,000 feet up in the air. My strange fear of water would have quickly been forgotten if only I could roll down those windows and get out. I would have done anything...anything... to get away from the heart pumping, hand shaking panic that I was experiencing, all thanks to this bundle of joy sitting in my lap, which, by the way, is not what I was calling him on that particular day.

I learned something about myself after that experience, and this is it: I would rather be in a coffin than on a plane with a screaming child. And believe me when I say that I am slightly creeped out by coffins. And by slightly, I mean I wouldn't touch a coffin with a ten foot pole, even if was empty. But if ever given the choice between a screaming child or creepy coffin, there would be no hesitation, I would happily climb in, lay down and close the lid. No questions asked.

But at the time there was no coffin to crawl into, just a screaming child to deal with. Somehow we survived though. We landed in Tokyo and were given an hour before we needed to board the plane again, so we took the opportunity to stretch out and let the boys run around the little play area.



And yes, this picture is really cute. Caleb looks happy, but I am pretty sure he was only smiling at the major stink eye I was giving him on the opposite side of the camera.

Oh well, at least he was happy

Then came time to board the plane again, and I did the only thing any helpless mother can do...I started praying...oh how I prayed...that Caleb would not make a peep the rest of our 7 hour flight. And thankfully he did pretty good. His little body was so exhausted from crying that he fell into a deep sleep, only waking up when we made our descent into Singapore.

And that's when I got really excited. The worst, I thought, was behind us, and it can only get better from here. But I didn't take into account the fact that I was spent; emotionally from dealing with Caleb and physically from...well, being awake for 24 hours.

After gathering our bags, with children in tow, we made our way through customs, then found our driver and headed to the place we would call home for the next seven months, Fraser Suites.

After arriving at Fraser at 2 o'clock in the morning, we checked in and received the key card to our flat. After a quick ride in the elevator and a short walk down the hall, we saw it, room 5-08, but when we inserted the key and tried to open the door, it wouldn't open. After looking at each other, Adam said "maybe it's the wrong key", and then went back to the lobby to get a new one.

In the two minutes that he was gone, I stood at the door and just stared. A strange feeling of exhaustion and the desire to crawl into bed mixed with excitement and wonderment of what lay behind that door was almost more than I could take.

And then I heard the ding of the elevator and both Adam and the desk clerk got out. Then the desk clerk looked at us, smiled and then proceeded to swiped the key and push open the door.

Did I mention that Adam and I were trying to pull the door open when we thought it was the wrong key?

Talk about feeling like an idiot

But we were too tired to care what he was thinking, and too excited to explain why we would do such a stupid thing in the first place. We had arrived, the door was finally open and we were about to walk into the place that we would call home!

As I walked through the door and looked at our flat, tears welled up in my eyes, and rolled down my cheeks. Reality hit. We were no longer preparing to go to Singapore. We were here. It was real and it was staring us in the face, and suddenly, I wasn't so sure about it.

But that's a story for another time....

Our neighbors invited us to their parent's house to celebrate the 4th of July, and because we live 400 miles from our nearest family members, naturally, we said yes.

Not only did we have fun eating, swimming, laughing and lighting off fireworks, but it was especially relaxing knowing that we were in the company of people (i.e. grandparents) who had already raised three boys, and lived to tell about it.

I was especially happy about this when I noticed their lack of concern as the boys, in all their crude boy humor, were burping and making farting noises with their armpits, without giving it a second thought, as though this is normal behavior.

And if you have boys, you know that it is not only normal, but to be expected. It's a rite of passage of sorts, because once you conquer armpit farts you can then move on to the more difficult skill of leg farts. At which time all the neighborhood boys gather around, and watching with awe, they laugh, grunt and ask how they too can do it.

Okay, I am not sure how I got so far off topic. And because I don't know how to make a smooth transition from farting to swimming, I will just show you a few pictures. As you will see below, Isaiah and Caleb have very different, but complimentary, personalities and energy levels. I don't even need to explain, just look at the pictures below:

Isaiah


Caleb


Isaiah


Caleb


And what better way to top off a fun, relaxing day than to eat this:

Homemade Blackberry Ice Cream


Luckily, I got to be in charge of dessert, and because I will eat almost anything with sugar in it (except iced tea), it was right up my alley. And what more fitting dessert for the 4th of July than Blackberry Cobbler with Homemade Vanilla and Blackberry ice cream.

It was good.

So very, very good.

We have a problem with listening in our house. Let me just clarify something though, because, when I use the term 'we', I really mean Isaiah.

Yes, Isaiah has a problem with listening. Sometimes it's because he is so engrossed in what he's doing that he really doesn't hear us talking to him. In which case, I gently squeeze this area:



and he becomes focused, responsive and all is right with the world.

But there are also times when he just flat out disobeys, and it makes me want to pull my hair out. Take this example:

Two nights ago Isaiah asked if he and Caleb could play in the sprinklers. After turning them on, Adam looked at Isaiah and said, "don't turn the sprinklers on any higher because I don't want the water in the garage."

Okay, was his response.

He didn't really mean it though, because five minutes later we saw him run into the back yard, look at us and then proceed to turn up the sprinkler.

Believe me when I say that I have met my match with this kid

Adam and I looked at each other and then called Isaiah over to where we were sitting. And this is the conversation that took place:

Adam: Why did you turn up the water?
Isaiah: Because I wanted the sprinkler to be higher
Adam: Did I tell you not to turn up the sprinkler?
Isaiah: Well, yeah
Adam: So you disobeyed me?
Isaiah: Yeah. So can I go play in the sprinkler now?

Okay, so it's obvious that he still doesn't get it

Me: No, because there are consequences for your behavior.
Isaiah: Well, what is my consequence?
Me: That's just it, you get to decide what your consequence is.

Now, just so I can set the scene for you, at the same time we are having this conversation, I have a pan of brownies cooling in the kitchen that I told Isaiah we would have later. He is fully aware of this, and I can see the stress on his face as he tries to decide what his consequence should be...no sprinkler or no dessert.

And then, with his sad eyes and straight face he says:

"Can you just pull my underwear up?"

And I say, "you mean, like a wedgie?!"

And he just nods yes.

I am serious, I could not make this up if I wanted to.

Let me just say that we do not use wedgies as punishment in our house. Never have. Never will. I don't know what gave him the idea that that is an appropriate consequence, but you can imagine how hard it is to keep a straight, disciplinarian face when your child makes such a comment.

So there I sat, feeling strangely torn between two conflicting emotions; do I roll on the ground laughing or run and hide in my closet so no one knows how disturbed that whole conversation made me feel.

Instead I chose neutral ground. I went into the kitchen, ate three brownies with a scoop of ice cream, and again, all was right with the world.