The People I Love

Another school day has come to a close. Stravinsky's Firebird Suite which kept Thomas and I company while we worked on creating forms with beeswax block crayons continues to play. I am on the verge of cooking dinner and my parents are on the verge of joining us for Friday Family Fun night which will undoubtedly include Wallace and Gromit per the Wonder Twins' request. My dear husband is working late, like ten o'clock late but did manage to squeeze in a coffee run for me mid-afternoon. Thanks again hon. May you all have a lovely, peaceful, joyful weekend. Enjoy some shots from our week, as well as  Thomas' favorite song from our Sesame Street collection (oh how it warms my heart to hear him singing it without any self-consciousness). Truly we are so blessed.

This one keeps me always on my toes. So loving with kisses for mommy on her lips, her ears, her nose, her cheeks, her tummy, and even her toes. His strong will often brings me to my knees. His favorite new thing to say is, "Pretty sad. So bad." This afternoon while he was supposed to be napping, I found him sitting in the buff under his blanket posing as a ghost. Also today he said, "I like carrots. I sat by Molly in my red chair and ate them. I miss my Molly." Me too baby.

Mrs. McGoodles. Don't cross her when she's hungry; she morphs into quite a drama queen. Really. Flailing arms and head. You can't help but giggle.

"Mommy happy?" Russell my little helper. Though he might not be able to wear his pants correctly, he is a bundle of sunshine. "I love you mommy," he has recently begun to coo. He loves to build Lego towers with animals at the top and then point out that they are "so fragile." "Don't break them mommy." Unfortunately, he likes to destroy things like this bag that he is moments away from tearing. He also has established a new affection for listening to the Frances books on CD. His favorite part is when Frances' father relates to his daughter, who is not going to bed, that if she does not go to sleep, she will get a spanking. Not sure what this says about my son.

And the glue that holds us all together. My darling Thomas. My constant companion and co-parent. Yesterday he created his own behavior chart for the twins. Four strikes and you are out according to T's rules. He likened it to a king and his nobles when the nobles were not obeying. Hmm.
Russell donning one of Thomas' creations. 

I just can't resist silliness. Our princess is developing quite a personality. She is just beautiful and her eyes just sparkle with life. What a treasure.

And when your house is already just a big mess why not create some more chaos? Homemade play-dough that resulted in much flour throwing.
PS I found a fantastic salt play dough recipe after misplacing one my mother-in-law gave me.

Elliot making cookies. Don't miss the bit of flour on the end of his nose. 

Thomas making a pie. He decided that we should call our bakery, Cookie's Fortune. A sign may be in the making. And oh yes, Korean chopsticks have many uses. Also stay tuned. Thomas has been listening to the first Harry Potter book on CD and drew some very special pictures of the main characters. I absolutely cannot resist displaying them. 

Oh May I Join the Choir Invisible

Tucked away in that territory of chaos, otherwise known as my mind, was the plan to pay homage to this day, All Soul's Day, by neatly arranging pictures of departed family members and friends around the icon table in our dining room and remembering their lives with my children. Maybe next year.

Instead, we made cookies. But not just any cookie, Fave dei Morti, "Beans of the Dead," an Italian "soul" cookie traditional to this day. Easy and delicious. Some were even meant to look like bones and Thomas did attempt a skull. I think we have discovered yet another tradition to add to our repertoire.

"Oh May I Join the Choir Invisible"

George Eliot

(Mary Anne Evans)

Oh, may I join the choir invisible

Of those immortal dead who live again

In minds made better by their presence: live

In pulses stirred to generosity,

In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn

For miserable aims that end with self,

In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars,

And with their mild persistence urge men's search

To vaster issues. So to live is heaven:

To make undying music in the world,

Breathing a beauteous order that controls

With growing sway the growing life of man.

So we inherit that sweet purity

For which we struggled, failed, and agonized

With widening retrospect that bred despair.

Rebellious flesh that would not be subdued,

A vicious parent shaming still its child,

Poor anxious penitence, is quick dissolved;

Its discords, quenched by meeting harmonies,

Die in the large and charitable air,

And all our rarer, better, truer self

That sobbed religiously in yearning song, 

That watched to ease the burden of the world,

Laboriously tracing what must be,

And what may yet be better, --saw within

A worthier image for the sanctuary,

And shaped it forth before the multitude,

Divinely human, raising worship so

To higher reverence more mixed with love, --

That better self shall live till human Time

Shall fold its eyelids, and the human sky

Be gathered like a scroll within the tomb

Unread forever. This life to come, --

Which martyred men have made more glorious

For us who strive to follow. May I reach

That purest heaven, --be to other souls

The cup of strength in some great agony,

Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love,

Beget the smiles that have no cruelty,

Be the sweet presence of a good diffused,

And in diffusion ever more intense!

So shall I join the choir invisible

Whose music is the gladness of the world.

Poetry Wednesday

And alas, this is what baking often looks like in our house. Yes, the wonder twins were quite enamored with flour. And if you look closely, you will notice that Russell (again) has his pants on backwards. 

And finally because I am shameless. 

We want to share with you my recent interview with SixSeeds.tv as part of National Adoption Month. If you have a moment, please read the article and leave a comment. For every comment, $2 will be donated to the James 1:27 Foundation, a non-profit group located in Melbourne, Iowa, who gave our family a grant of $2500 for Lucia's adoption. 

You can read the the article and post a comment here: Adoptive Family--Johnson

And please help spread the word. If you are willing, tweet it, facebook, or blog it to your friends.

The first two paragraphs of the interview are taken from a blog post that you can read in its entirety here.

And to those of you who have already commented and helped spread the word, thank you. Truly.

Help!

We want to share with you Beth's recent interview with SixSeeds.tv as part of National Adoption Month. We're particularly excited to share this with you because for every comment posted to the article, $2 will be donated to the James 1:27 Foundation, a group who helped us with Lucia's adoption.

Read the article and post a comment here: Adoptive Family -- Johnson

After you've read the article and posted your comment, be sure to tweet it, facebook, or blog it to your friends. We'd like to give as much back to the James 1:27 Foundation as we can - we know the money will go to find homes for children who need them. Thank you in advance for your help!

The first two paragraphs of the interview are an excerpt from a blog Beth posted some months back. You can read the entire post here.

You may also want to read the Osburn's, the Blumenthal's and the Groce's adoption stories also shared at SixSeeds.tv this month. They were a part of our travel group in Ethiopia and absolutely inspiring people.

Like a Song...

Christ of the Breadlines
Fritz Eichenerg


Like a Song...

U2

Like a song I have to sing
I sing it for you.
Like the words I have to bring
I bring it for you.

And in leather, lace and chains we stake our claim.
Revolution once again
No I won't, I won't wear it on my sleeve.
I can see through this expression and you know I don't believe.
Too old to be told, exactly who are you?
Tonight, tomorrow's too late.

And we love to wear a badge, a uniform
And we love to fly a flag
But I won't let others live in hell
As we divide against each other
And we fight amongst ourselves
Too set in our ways to try to rearrange
Too right to be wrong, in this rebel song
Let the bells ring out
Let the bells ring out
Is there nothing left?
Is there, is there nothing?
Is there nothing left?
Is honesty what you want?

A generation without name, ripped and torn
Nothing to lose, nothing to gain
Nothing at all
And if you can't help yourself
Well take a look around you
When others need your time
You say it's time to go... it's your time.
Angry words won't stop the fight
Two wrongs won't make it right.
A new heart is what I need.
Oh, God make it bleed.
Is there nothing left?

Poetry Wednesday