Camping with the Lehmans

You just can't beat time with family, even if it means with bugs, heat and humidity. We enjoyed a relaxing time at the Philip Bongiorno Campground and Conference Center in Carlisle, PA with the Lehman clan. The guys were able to squeeze in two rounds of 9 hole golf during the weekend, the benefits of camping at a campground with a golf course. The rest of the time was spent lounging, talking, eating, and tending to little ones. It was the first time that I had experienced having the entire camping area to ourselves! The facilities were very nice and clean, too. When camping, this makes a campground a 4 star hotel.

Finding out that camping with an infant recreates the look of your campsite.

97 degree afternoons are meant for sleeping in the shade (or in Pappy and Grandma's camper with the AC).

Cousins playing in their "play yard"

Not sure why my computer insists that this pictures should be turned this way, but I still thought it was a nice shot of Eric after golfing and Isaac ready to play.

Refreshing water makes for fun splashing.

and WATER BALLOON FIGHTS!!!! Watch out . . . . splat! This definitely made for some laughs and got everyone involved!

"Whose name is on that one, Bryce?

Daddy and Isaac playing a game of "Pat-Pat" on the camper steps.

Look Mom, I'm flying! (with slobbers on my chin)

Camping means dish pan baths (for little guys ONLY).

And Isaac drew an audience of helpful cousins.

I'm already looking forward to next year's annual camping trip!

Camping with the Martins

We have two family camping weekends planned back-to-back this summer. Last weekend was the first with April's parents and her three sisters and brothers-in-law. After much thought we decided on Bald Eagle State Park in Howard, PA as a central location for everyone. It was a HOT weekend, but we were able to find cooling relief under the breezy shade trees by lake. We packed and ate both noon meals down by the lake. Isaac enjoyed his first experience in "lake" water. Although, I refused to blow bubbles for him (Yuck!), he loved splashing and kicking with his aunts, uncles and grandparents. It was a great time to reconnect with family. Anya and I enjoyed an unplanned 5 mile walk to the lake. We probably would have make it in a quarter of the time, had we taken a map. In hind sight I wouldn't trade our leisurely walk and conversation, however it would have been nice to know that we hadn't walked ourselves into being lost. It was quite a relief when we finally saw the beach!

It also blessed my heart to watch Isaac interact with my family. He has lots of faces to learn, memories to make, and fun family times to look forward to in the future. (And hopefully a few cousins to play with. . . ?) Again, some entertaining pictures. . .

Ryan and Eric borrowed Mom and Dad's bikes for a hike. Don't they look handsome?


The "Good lookin' Hair" Club chilling at the beach.

Family Pic 2010

Sisters are definitely friends for life.

The Whole Gang (including dogs, which Isaac found very distracting:)

The water was very refreshing. . . despite the goose poo-poo.

My two favorite Men!

Chicken Soup for "Adoptive" Parent's Soul

Had to share a story from Chicken Soup for the Soul: On Being a Parent. It was a gift given to us just yesterday, and this was the first story I picked up and read. Of course it had me in tears, and now again as I typed it! But it helps to describe the hidden thoughts and secret fears that foster/adoptive parents have from time to time. When will be THE moment?

By Mary Chavoustie "Chicken Soup for the Mother's Soul 2"

Joyfully, our adoption process was nearing the finale! In the beginning, I had supplied, verified and simplified every question and every fill-in-the-blank. But even then, amidst the facts and the figures, one lone and very specific uncertainty tugged at my heart. I thought about it when we attended our first welcoming seminar. I tried not to be obvious as I searched the faces of the other prospective parents - were they feeling the same uncertainty?

Finally, we received the long-awaited "call," and the next day a tiny baby was placed into my arms. That one nagging little fear was overshadowed by the sheer joy of holding my newborn son and naming him Eric. I considered it once again in the courtroom the day the paperwork became final. He was six months old, able to coo and giggle, oblivious to legalities or titles. Yet all the while I wondered. Where and when and how would he ask me the inevitable question: Are you my real mom?

I knew there were books and pamphlets explaining all the "right" answers to be given at all the "appropriate" age levels. I told myself I would read the scholarly information and wait my turn to recite the correct reply.

So I read and reread, but the security never came with the knowledge. Now I knew what to say, but would I say it right, say it so he could understand? What if the question came on the freeway while the two of us maneuvered in and out of traffic? Would I pull the car to the side? Would I ask that he wait till we got home and we'd talk? After all, a question so important could hardly be addressed between Thirty-second and Thirty-fourth Street.

Maybe he would ask me in the playroom of a golden-arched restaurant or as we exited his favorite movie. I would be prepared, I told myself. I would briefly, very briefly touch on conception and then even more briefly on pregnancy and then deal with the who and why of what came after that.

Would there ever be words that could explain it all? How could I make him understand that he grew in one woman's womb and another woman's heart? How could he know the anguish his birth mother felt on placement day as she held him one last time or the breathless joy I felt the second he was placed in the warmth of my arms?

One night as I was preparing dinner, tired from the day's lack of accomplishment and frustrated by the lateness of the hour, a small-framed three-year-old boy came and stood beside me as I stirred the mashed potatoes.

"Mommy," he said. "I have a question for you."
"Uh-hum," I mumbled out of habit.
"Mommy," he tugged at my shirt. "Mommy, I said I have a question."

"Okay, okay." I stopped and turned to see two bright eyes staring up at me. I knew something was wrong. He blinked, trying to hold back the tears, but they fell nevertheless. I bent down to him, forgetting the potatoes and the day. What mattered more than anything was the little boy before me. I held his chin in the cup of my hand and asked him softly, "What's wrong? What is so important to ask me that it would make you cry?"

No sooner had the last word left my lips than I knew. We were here. The moment had arrived, and I was as unprepared as the minute it had first crossed my thoughts.

"Mommy, Sarah says you aren't my real mommy. I told her she was wrong. She was wrong, right, Mommy?"

All the days of guessing and planning and memorizing, and I was speechless. I pulled him closer to me and wrapped my arms tightly around his little body. My son. My precious son. I wiped away the tears continuing to fall against his cheek. Then with a calmness I'd never before possessed, I held out my hand.

"Sweetheart, do you see Mommy's hand?"
"Uh huh," he replied as he bobbed his head up and down.
"Well," I slowly said, "go ahead and touch it. Touch my hand."
His tiny fingers stroked across my palm.
"Do I feel real to you?" I asked.
"You do!" he said as a smile broke across his face. He ran his fingers along my arms and then against my face and through my hair.

"Then I am your real mother, and my love for you is real. But there is another lady who loves you and is very real, too. She loved you so much she gave you life and let you grow inside her until it was time for you to be born and join Mommy and Daddy. She's called your birth mother, and one day we'll get to meet her. How does that sound?" I asked. I wasn't sure who the question was for, him or me.

He grabbed my neck and began to cover my cheek with kisses. I pulled him closer, the tears rolling down my cheeks. And then before I was ready to let go, he pulled away and off he ran to the living room, ready to play once more.

It had happened. I had seen tears that needed to be wiped away, and they had left with the stroke of my hand. I had seen a little boy who needed to be hugged, and I had given him the warmest, softest hug I could give. The question had been asked. And I had answered. I knew, in another time and another place, there would be other, harder questions but for now, I knew. . . I had done well.

I pray that God will give me such beautifully scripted thoughts and words when Isaac seeks answers to those tough questions. It is something often pondered, but always left in God's timing and in His hands. Even now, I like to use "His Story" as a bedtime story to tell as I rock him to sleep. Just the sound of my voice soothes him, but one day he will understand the meaning behind the words.

9 months old

Isaac turned 9 months old on July 7th. Though we have only known one another for 2 months. It is hard to believe. . . sometimes it feels like he has always been a part of our lives. Well, a lot of the time. There have been a few moments of tantrums or melt downs where I feel like I don't know him well at all because I don't intuitively know what is causing his anguish. Although the more I talk with other mothers it seems that all have moments such as these.


Two months ago it felt as if we were bonding well, but to look back from where we are now, it really magnifies the growth we have seen and felt in our love and dedication for this little boy - our son. And I believe that Isaac feels that same bond toward us. He reaches for us when he is troubled. He snuggles against our necks when a stranger talks to him. He feels free to let us know when he is unhappy, trusting and knowing that we will look to appease his pain (within reason, of course). He loves to laugh and giggle and we know what makes his giggles the loudest. For Eric it is a popping sound he makes with his mouth or "I'm going to get you" game. For me, strange as it may sound, it is saying the word "pillow" (for now anyway).

Through parenting this little wonder, I'm also learning alot about myself. My strengths and weaknesses. My need for Guidance. My need of a good night of sleep. My need for patience and understanding of others (beyond apathy). My need for quiet reflection, as well as, cuddles and face time. My need to stay fit as I lift, walk, and lug a fast growing little boy (who has FAST grabbing hands). Here are some pictures which say more than words.

Isaac wearing his Ethiopian hat.

Isaac swimming for the first time. He loved it! (and my sunglasses)

Just a good picture of our beautiful baby. The bear is from the Valentine Baby Shower thanks to Aunt Amelia.

Go Nationals!! In this, he favors his Dad.

Isaac is enjoying "big people" food. The bib is also fitting.

Jumping is his second favorite sport.

Standing like a "big kid" is by far his favorite.

Relaxing after a swim with friends.