Merry Christmas!

Flower Girls!

I can’t even think how to describe the year 2014 and what it meant for the Luippold Family.  After over a year of hoping to adopt from first Russia and then Kazakhstan, we switched to a Ukraine Adoption Program in March and by July we were on a plane to Eastern Europe!  The first 6 months of the year are such a whirlwind. I took time off working to focus on the adoption and our family. However, somehow the time seemed to fill up more than ever!  The mountain of never ending adoption paperwork contributed to our busyness, as well as traveling to Virginia for Bard and the girls to be in his sister’s wedding, the girls and I dancing in a recital, and starting the summer off with theatre camp and swim lessons.

Meeting Max!

Then, Monday July 7^th I woke up and checked my email at 5am.  And promptly burst in to tears.  Our adoption dossier had been accepted by the Ukrainian government and they had given us an interview date for July 17^th, ten days away.  In fact, we were flying out July 14^th-in one week.  I promptly stopped crying-Bard and I had way too much work to do!  Somehow we packed up our house, the girls, and everything but the kitchen sink and boarded a plane to Kyiv, the capitol city of Ukraine.  There were lots of bumps, prayers, chocolate eating, and subway riding over the next 6 weeks.  But the most important moments were breathtaking and heart stopping.  Sitting in a tiny government office and seeing the picture of our son for the first time.  Waiting in a toy filled visitation room at a rural orphanage while the Director went and woke him from his nap.  Holding him for the first time and playing with him, as a family, during our daily orphanage visits. Sitting in court and hearing the judge grant our petition to adopt him.  And, after 6 weeks and 3 days of living in Ukraine-a memorable and absolutely incredible experience-boarding a plane to come home. Together.

Exploring Kyiv

Introducing Maxim Everett Bard Luippold, better known as Max, now and forever-part of our family!

Celebrating Ukrainian
Independence

We returned home on August 28^th, three days later Bard went back to work and the girls started piano lessons.  The next day they started school-first grade for Evelyn and preschool for Cecilia.  And the following week I returned to teaching dance and the girls started ballet and tap classes while Max started swim classes and a million doctor appointments.  We don’t do anything half way around here J

Overall the adjustment is going fairly well-for all of us.  There have been quite a few (million) moments of stress, exhaustion, frustration, and sadness.    But when I think back to where we were last year, and what a miracle it is that our lives changed so drastically in such a short period of time, it honestly shocks me.  Max has overcome a lot in just the three short months that we have been home-and he has a lot more in front of him.  Overall his health is good but he is delayed and very small for his age so we do therapy and feed him every other minute!  He has been checked and tested for a variety of issues and that will continue as we monitor his growth and health.  Next year will be informative and scary as he will likely need surgery for a congenital heart defect. And while it is easy to be fearful of such a big procedure, when I think of the prayers, support, and blessings that carried us through this year and allowed us to see the power of redemption played out in our personal lives, I have peace.

First Family Christmas Tree!

And that, dear friends and family, is what we wish you this holiday season and for the year 2015.  May you see Love in your lives, like never before.  May you have prayers answered and feel the breath of God all around you. And may you strive for something that is bigger than yourself and watch in humble joy as your dreams come true.

Advent Equals Waiting-for the Unexpected

Non Pink Court

The morning we readopted Max in the US, just like every adoptive family preparing for the special and beautiful milestone of going to court, our family's conversation centered around the type of toilets at the courthouse.

No really.  All day we talked about toilets. (If that makes no sense whatsoever to you, please read here.

It was a slightly underwhelming culmination of what started almost exactly two years ago-our adoption journey to meet Max.  December 2012 will go down in my history as one of my Least Favorite Things. We faced stress in nearly every area of our lives and then to top it off Putin fulfilled his destiny of becoming a world class ass hole-you can read this-to explain the whole sob story. But, I promise this is not a "Best of" blog, and to sum up the next year and a half, I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that the theme of every post was, waiting.  Waiting.  Waiting.

Put one foot in front of the other

And soon you'll be walking 'cross the floor

Last year at Christmas time, I really believed that we would have our son with us to celebrate in 2014. Honestly, I couldn't see it, and had no idea how it would happen, but I just kept going. Right on to another country in fact, our third, but in this case-third time was a charming little boy named Max! I cannot stress enough how drastically our lives changed in the last year.  This weekend Bard and I went on our first real date since traveling to Ukraine. We saw the Hobbit movie (yes, I am a Tolkien nerd) and it reminded me that last year we saw the Hobbit movie at Christmas time too (yes, I am a Tolkien nerd.) Afterwards we joked that during the movie both of us kept thinking there was another Hobbit movie and then couldn't remember how may we had already seen-1, 2, 3, who knew?! But I sat in the movie theatre and thought to myself, they are wrapping this up pretty quick, there must be more conflict coming soon!

You put one foot in front of the other

And soon you'll be walking out the door!

That's kinda what court was like on Friday-it seemed like there should be more. It is for good reason that people equate the paperwork and travel part of adoption to being in pregnant and in labor. When I was pregnant I complained, was frustrated, in pain, and more than a little cranky.  And I would tell anyone who asked.  And when I was in labor.  Well.  Let's just say after Cici Bard and I had a funny little conversation about how much I screamed.  Apparently a lot.  But NOW, if you ask me about my pregnancies or labor, I normally start with a laugh, throw my head back a little and say with a smile, "Oh yeah, I was miserable!"  I didn't even have drugs but maybe someone slipped me some magical hallucinogens that make that whole painful experience appear suddenly ridiculous and remembered with a fond smile and a tilt of the head.

Weird, right?

So, if you had found me on the subway in Kyiv when I was carrying 40 pounds of groceries for three more stops in 96 degree weather with 100% humidity, I would have snapped your head off and given anything to go home.  Odd, since even as I write this I'm smiling and wish I could go back to Kyiv!  Last week I was even cracking up remembering how we all had the stomach flu for our last two weeks in country and vomited our heads off.  Oh, so hilarious.

You never will get where you're going

If ya never get up on your feet.

Now that we're actually here, where we wanted to be, it's not romanticized any more.  It's just real life.  Even the court reasons and proceedings were much more mundane than our Ukraine   experience. While of course we were required to go to court in Ukraine to legally adopt Max and bring him home, that is not the case with readoption.  Max already is our son and was a US citizen from the moment he landed in Seattle-he loves Nirvana, coffee, and rain, just ask him!  The readoption is simply so he has a US birth certificate which can make school paperwork, travel, legal issues, etc easier. So, meh.  And of course there was no hurrying and waiting, no wondering if the judge would say yes, no toilet drama, and sheesh, the courthouse wasn't even pink.

Come on, there's a good tall wind blowin

And a fast walking man is hard to beat.

Now, don't get me wrong, I am so grateful that we were able to readopt Max here, and I'm blown away by everything that it stands for-the final step in our adoption process. After two years, to have made it to this place, step after step, forwards, backwards, sideways, crawling, it's an honor to be here. But, during this advent season, I am struck by the truth that waiting and waiting and preparing and being ready do not always lead you where you think you are going. What you may think is going to come and what actually comes might not be the same thing.

Long lay the world...

Pining.

Probably because far too often we get caught up in the smallness of ourselves. We may imagine that we have created a big dream and are moving toward its fulfillment, but the reality is actual change often overwhelms us. We are left unable to see that the new Truth unfolding before us is far greater than we could have imagined, and far more worth the effort. I never would have chosen the stress of the last three months.  I never would have wanted to see the ugliness, the weakness, the stubborness that lack of sleep and demanding children bring out in me. Because I never would choose to deliberately put myself through hardship, I would never have the chance to see the joy that comes through on the other side. Watching Max overcome simple struggles that for him are mountains brings up my own struggles that are like icebergs-tiny on the surface, deadly underneath.

O come O come Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appear.

Terrified.

Troubled.

When faced with the sight of their dream right before them, this is how the shepherds and all of Jerusalem responded. Throughout the ensuing years that entire region shuddered with the hardship of laying down one dream to pick up another.

Greater. Simpler.

I think I get into trouble when I want the dream to be epic, glamorous, visible. And actually, during those moments,  I look pretty good. Me. I do. But the small, serving, simple moments are what break me. Cleaning vomit was not part of my dream. Being up all night. Repeating the same mundane tasks over and over again.

Advent, 2014

Yet in thy dark streets shineth

The everlasting Light

The hopes and fears of all the years

Are met in Thee tonight. 

I guess I'll have to wait and see what exactly I've been waiting for. . .The dream is maybe not what I can do for a child,  but what a child can do for me. This blog is as much about my growth as it is Max's growth. Right now Max's growth is much more visible than mine. And some days I can't see how I will change,  I don't know how it will happen. But I will keep going. 

If you want to change your direction

If your time of life is at hand

Well don't be the rule be the exception

The best way to start is to stand.

Put one foot in front of the other. . .

Transition and Tradition...And a Little Matchbox 20

Watching Daddy in the Turkey Bowl-a must have tradition!

You know you've been watching too many episodes of Gilmore Girls when you dream that you're opening an inn. And you've pulled your short jackets out of retirement and thrown them back into the clothing repertoire even though one had a missing button-until you cut off the other two buttons so it would match.

Wow.

It's not like I'm trying to escape my completely overwhelming life or anything.  No. Don't be silly.

All day staring at the ceiling 

Making friends with shadows on the wall 

All night hearing voices telling me 

That I should get some sleep 

Because tomorrow might be good for something

Here's the thing though, I don't feel constantly stressed, just like I'm on the edge-of being crazy.  I still do all my normal things like buy groceries, braid hair, and be on time.  But it's there, simmering, waiting for a reason to boil over.  

Just like Max.

Hold on

Feeling like I'm heading for a breakdown

And I don't know why

See, kids who have been through trauma constantly survive in a flight or fight mode. Max is actually doing really well-he's growing, stronger, learning, connecting, and taking his little baby steps to catch up with a typical 18 month old-which is what he'll be tomorrow.  The Dr at UW and Max's physical therapist are both thrilled with his progress-he's in a growth phase and he's made leaps and bounds improvements in gross motor skills. Don't tell our social worker but Bard and I are investing in duct tape as the only possible means to keep that child still for longer than 4 seconds! However-here's the fight or flight-this morning I put him in our jogging stroller to go for a run.  He hasn't ridden in it for over a month because blah blah blah and was instantly agitated.  I could see him tense up, he became fussy, whining. We take almost daily walks and he loves it. But simply sitting in a different stroller put him over the edge.  We see this in a hundred different ways throughout his daily routine-different bottles, new people, different food.  His therapist even noticed that he grows nervous when a new toy is first introduced.  Well that will make Christmas fun!

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

I love Christmas. So. So. So. Much. It's not for naught that I was a history major, ritual and tradition are my middle names.  If I do something once, I'll do it a million times again-in the same exact way and be utterly thrilled every time.  Christmas feeds my insanity perfectly. Watching Elf every year. Christmas tree the Saturday after Thanksgiving every year.  Baking cookies for the neighbors every year. Zoolights with friends every year.  Every year.

There'll be much mistletoeing

And hearts will be glowing

When loved ones are near

I love the busyness.  In fact, if my family could handle it, I would add more.  But that's the thing, somehow not everybody wants to watch 18 Christmas movies every year, live through a day of driving and decorating, make eight pounds of delectables, and fill every evening with a new-or old-tradition.  

And a partridge in pear tree.

No seriously, Bard actually said to me, "Of course I like Elf, but I don't need to watch it every year."

The girls at The Nutcracker

Yes, we're still together, he teaches me how to show grace :)  But we knew-we knew with Thanksgiving-and we know with Christmas-Edge.  To keep things normal for Max we hosted Thanksgiving Dinner. So he napped in his own bed, it was a relatively small group of people, and he went to bed on time.  The difference between Thanksgiving and Christmas is that Thanksgiving is one day and Christmas is a whole month.  Or more if you ask Target!  (A little aside to everyone whining about Christmas decorations being up so early.  Ummm.  Stores would not put them up if they were not making money, probably hand over fist.  So if you had to buy that adorable snowman towel or Christmas cookie, then cut it out, you're clogging my facebook feed!) We've planned and prayed over what will be fun holiday traditions yet keep our transition going smoothly.  We know we can't do everything but still want to celebrate a fun season.  And let's be honest, that's probably a safe plan for me too. Of course it was not fair that the first tradition to get the ax was me taking the girls to PNB's Nutcracker.  We were supposed to both go with the girls but we couldn't get a sitter for Max (and I couldn't choose just any sitter) so Bard went without me. Yes he offered but I really wanted him to be with the girls and there are many more traditions waiting for me. I love so much about this time of year-the music makes me smile (the GOOD music people, pay attention, you can't just put Christmas in front of a song and think it's good.  If it was crap to begin with then you just made it Christmas Crap. Way to go.) 

Uh...Oh yeah, the music makes me smile, I love seeing our tree as I come down the stairs in the morning, Christmas blend is the only Starbucks coffee I like, and nothing makes me happier than finding the perfect gift-and ordering it from my couch on Amazon :) But, add in a million doctor's appointments-Max had his eye appointment which went well but we still have genetics testing and an ear exam, along with his 18 month check up, and weekly physical therapy sessions-a super strict schedule since he still needs to be fed 6 times a day, and a mom who is adjusting to adoption while not getting much sleep and you have a recipe for something other than yummy Christmas cookies.

But I'm not crazy I'm just a little unwell

I know right now you can't tell

But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see

A different side of me

Max and I are both adjusting to totally new situations.  Every time I care for a very needy child I am reminded how incredibly impatient I am-which is weird because in other situations I'm the most patient person in the world. And aside for the hint of craziness seen in the fact that I want to sit on the couch all day watching Gilmore Girls, if you ask me to help you with something my eyes will get completely glazed over as I retreat into my head and say to myself, "DO THEY KNOW I JUST ADOPTED A BABY FROM UKRAINE??!!"  Then I will snap back, smile politely and say, "Thanks, I'll think about it." And email you later with a big fat no.

I'm not crazy I'm just a little impaired

I know right now you don't care

But soon enough you're going to think of me

And how I used to be...me.

Max's First Christmas ornament-that I bought
in 2013.

And a big fat no is probably exactly what my stinker monkey wants to say when I do crazy things like put him in a different stroller or go to a snowy mountain for a tree that goes inside the house. Little by little though, Max will discover a new self-a safe self, a loved self.  And little by little I will settle in too (and not just because I'm starting the last season of Gilmore Girls).  Reality will blend with escape and that will be okay.  I'll emerge again, at ease with my life and not constantly ready for flight or fight.

Maybe it's extra crazy to be adjusting-and asking him to adjust over the holidays. But maybe it's extra hopeful too.  I'm constantly reminded of where I was at this time last year-moved in to my parents house because we had a crazy remodel take place at the absolute last minute. Reeling from the pain of a broken relationship that knocked me flat on my back.  And oh yeah, waiting for a country to open that never did but meanwhile my son was sitting in a Ukrainian orphanage -waiting for me.

The very first Christmas Story tells of fear-not just fear-utter terror, anger, the unknown, lies, poverty, shame, and complete chaos.  But it doesn't stay there. It moves through all the change to create the greatest tradition of all. Hope. Blessings. Love. Family. Max might already be a one year old, but this is his first Christmas.  Because he has hope. And we get the best new tradition of all. Christmas with our whole family.

It's The Most Wonderful Time

It's The Most Wonderful Time

It's The Most Wonderful of the Year