Our Impossible Adoption Story
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How to Survive the Terrible Twos
Our sweet little Man Cub has been really growing into his will lately, and really putting some new finesse into his temper tantrums. My favorite is when he throws his arms in the air and drops to his knees before wailing afresh and collapsing onto his face. I like to stand right in front of him and insist he not worship me when he does it.
He’s nearing 18-months, but he gets this gleam in his eye sometimes that makes me realize the “terrible twos” are right around the corner. So I appealed to mamas on Instagram recently, and have been getting a flood of wisdom about the “twos.”
First up are Bessie and Amanda. Bessie is the mother of a 2, 4, 6, and 9-year-old – all of whom are featured on her gorgeous IG feed at @bess8355. If you like chunky babies, cute toddlers and lovely home interiors, you will want to follow her.
Amanda’s littles are 5 months, 2-1/2 years (times two – they’re twins!), and 7. She’s on IG as @mandybarnes3 if you like looking at round baby heads and adorable children, sprinkled with inspiring quotes that always seem to show up in my feed just when I need them. She’s also @mandy3663 on Twitter.
Give it to me straight – How terrible are the “twos”?
Bessie:
Yes, the twos are terrible. It’s frustrating for you and them. They are like drunk little foreigners, one minute stumbling about singing to themselves – the next minute crying so hard they puke because you hand them the blue cup. That they asked for.
They come in varying degrees of difficulty though- we’ve had a melancholy two year old, thinking we were in the clear, only to realize that they picked age three to monopolize all our outings and interactions. And on the other side of the pendulum, we’ve had a two year old that acts like a chimp with dementia addicted to steroids, and then magically they transformed into a blissful preschooler.
I personally think three is generally harder. When two-year-olds are upset it’s usually out of frustration or misunderstanding because they don’t speak the language. But when an articulate three or four-year-old is having a meltdown because you can’t make the grass purple, it’s just a little more disheartening. Read more…
#redballoonsforryan
Photo credit: Jacob Esben H.
I added my small voice to the chorus of love and support for Jacqui and her family in the wake of their tragic loss on Instagram this morning, but I wanted to do more.
From her friend’s blog:
Last Friday night, while playing out front of a family members home, Ryan was hit by a truck and went home to be with Jesus. It all happened so fast and he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. A simple excitement to grab the frisbee that had escaped into the road was met with a tragic loss.
Ryan was three and a half years old.
I can’t even imagine.
And I’m not going to try.
I don’t know this family, and I’m not going to sit here and try to write about what they must be going through because I have no idea. I just wanted to collect resources for anyone who would like to help.
Because as I scrolled through IG this morning and clicked hashtags and followed link trails – there is a lot of support and love going on. Which is awesome.
Here are the ones I found that seem serious about making a sacrifice to help someone in need. (There is no shortage of Etsy shops and crafters who are offering to send 20% to the family, etc. That’s nice. I’m not going to discount those efforts, but I’m also not going to catalogue them all.)
If you know of something else, please leave a comment.
Prayers and Posts
Alissa is asking for prayers for the family, and love on your social networks:
Will you grab a picture from Jacqui’s Instagram feed, and post it to yours? Will you share words of encouragement and tag #RedBalloonsforRyan? Also be sure to tag Jacqui, @babyboybakery and Dan, @danno12.
Easy enough. Every one of us can do that.
Donations
There’s a donation link here if you have a few dollars to give. Medical bills and funeral costs do not ease the healing process after a tragedy.
T-Shirts
Several companies are sponsoring limited shirts to raise money for the family. My first thought was, “Ya, if only I had $25 to spend on a toddler t-shirt.” But then two realities hit me:
- My “if only” right now is really weak compared to other peoples’ “if only.”
- Every time I put that v-neck on my Man Cub, I will remember to hug him extra tight and thank God for him again.
Indie Nook is releasing a special t-shirt for Ryan. All proceeds will go to the family. From their website:
36 weeks ago, Indie Nook designed this Balloon tee. At the time we had 4 other designs that went out. For whatever reason, the balloon tee wasn’t printed. Our good friend Candice little’s was Ryan’s Best Friend. God has a way of working threw us. We feel this tee was meant for Ryan.
Geo Fox Apparel is taking pre-orders for a “Remember Ryan” v-neck.
Little Boogaweezin is doing baseball-t’s. From their website:
Little Boogaweezin is raising money for the Cruz family. Their son was hit by a truck while retrieving a frisbee from the street. Please help spread the word! All proceeds donated to help them in this time whether for funeral costs, missed time at work, whatever they can use it for.
Loved by Hannah and Eli, CupcakeMAG, and Yellow Bungalow Shop teamed up to offer a red baseball-t.
Other Fundraisers
@CupcakeMAG has put together six $1000 gift baskets that they will auction off on their Instagram feed starting tomorrow (May 8).
Downloadable print (“Fly high, little one”) from idieh design:
All proceeds from this print will go directly to the family to use as they see fit to honor Ryan. Please show your love & support in purchasing this print (and perhaps more than one if you would like to donate more) as an instant download. A link will be sent to you with an 8.5 x 11 PDF with crop marks at 8 x 10 for you to print, cut and frame in your home.
Hashtag
There’s more at #RedBalloonsForRyan on Instagram.
Toddler Thought Translator
Have you ever listened to a toddler babble and thought, “I wonder what he’s thinking … ” “I wonder what she’s trying to say …”?
The wait is over. Toddlers are a lot like monkeys, right?
.
So naturally this would work.
It went something like this:
Bang. Bang. Drum. Drum. Loud. Bang.
Mama: “Okay, baby, it’s time to go. Can you put your coat on?”
Coat? What’s a … ? What’s that? Why are you coming at me like that? Hey! Put my arm in where? DOWN THAT DARK HOLE?! I don’t THINK so! My arm is just fine! Wait! What are you – ?! HAAAAAAALP!
IT’S A STRAIGHT JACKET, ISN’T IT?! You’re going to tie me up in this thing aren’t you?! I’M SORRY ABOUT THE TOILET PAPER, OKAY?! DON’T YOU THINK YOU’RE OVER-REACTING?! No! No! No! I can’t believe you’re sending me AWAY! You probably already ordered the LOBOTOMY, didn’t you?! HAAAAAAALP! They’re going to lock me in a small room with no toys and no friends, but I’M! NOT! GOING!
Stopdropandroll! Stopdropandroll! PUT OUT THE FIRE OF INJUSTICE THAT IS CONSUMING MY ARMS!
No zippers! I can still shake it off when she’s not looking as long as she doesn’t! Get! The! Zipper! Just keep thrashing! JUST KEEP THRASHING! Okay the zipper, but not the snap! Not the –
Hold on …
I can still move my arms. This is actually kind of cozy. Oh, this is my COAT. See, you said “Coat” and I thought “Jacket” and then I remembered your disapproval when I tried to play in my poo earlier, and I just thought … No, this quite nice, actually. We’re good.
And later that afternoon …
Ball. Ball. Kick. Ball. Kick.
Mama: “Baby, it’s time for a diaper change. C’mon.”
Diaper change? MY diaper? Now?! Wha – No! What are you – ! NOOOOOO!!! I can’t believe this is happening! I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING! Seeley WARNED me about this! STOOOOOPPPPP!
Oh! This is the part where she pulls out my toenails and then amputates my legs with them! Well not THIS toddler! You! Won’t! Get! Me! To! Lay still! While you! Flay! Me!
I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME! Oh! They said you’d say that! Deathroll! Deathroll! It’s NOT going to be okay! NO IT’S NOT! Ty has a friend whose cousin went for a diaper change and never came back and I BELIEVE it! Oh you’re HOG-TYING me now?! Is that to make it easier to bite off my TOES?!
IT BURNS! THE FEAR, IT BURNS! Ahhhhhhhhhhh!
What is that?! Why do you need that huge pad?! IS THAT TO CLEAN UP ALL THE BLOOD?! Why are you wrapping it … ?! What are you … ?
Oh.
No.
That’s my diaper. Oh it’s all dry and light. That’s kind of nice, actually. Okay. My bad.
And that evening …
Milk. Mama, look, I’m doing the sign thing. Milk. Here, I even brought the blanket.
Mama: “Good signing, baby! Okay, but it’s about bedtime anyway, so let’s get ready for bed quickly ’cause you’re probably going to fall asleep.”
No, but I did the sign thing. That means you’re supposed to … Where are we going? I don’t want the bathroom! I want the –
Oooh. I want all THOSE things!
WHAT DO YOU MEAN, “NO”?! Oh, the toothbrush?! Come ON. Don’t stick that thing in my mmmmmmmmmm … I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE AFT-MMMMMMMMM! You’re trying to knock out the teeth I worked so hard fo-mmmmmmmmmm! STOP! NOOOOOOOOOOO!
Oooh, water? I’d love a drink of water, sure. Second? Yes please. Okay. Here we go.
Wait, I know this shifting … Why are you … NOT THE CHANGING TABLE AGAIN! HOW MANY TIMES TO I HAVE TO FIGHT FOR MY APPENDAGES IN A DAY?! Not this time! NOT THIS TIME! I can roll onto my belly all night, lady! YOU WILL NEVER DISMEMBER ME!
Roll! Kick! Roll! Kick! AAAAAAAAAHHHHH! TINY FEET OF FURYYY!
It went something like that anyway. It’s hard to wrestle a half-naked toddler and transcribe his lunatic rantings at the same time, so I may have missed something here or there. But I’m pretty sure that’s what’s going on in his head.
Now you know.
Greater Than Irony
There will forever be two days each year that feel like the anniversary of the day we said Goodbye (for now) to my dad – March 31 and Easter Sunday. Because in 2013, they were the same day.
And months ago, when we started planning an Easter Sunday service, I didn’t think anything of it. When someone asked if I would do a spoken word piece for the service, I agreed – because I get really excited about spoken word – and I didn’t think for a second about the previous year’s Easter Sunday service.
As the theme developed and emerged as Greater Than, I just made a note and jotted down a few initial ideas. I didn’t think for a how a year earlier, on Easter Sunday, we had hoped and prayed to the last that God would prove greater than blood clots and brain damage and comas.
Over the course of the following few weeks I added details to the thematic elements, and random lines that would get stuck in somewhere or omitted, and all I thought about it was about word pairs and off-rhymes.
It wasn’t until the night before, as I finally ironed out the last stanzas and tried to memorize what I hoped would be an accelerating crescendo, that I realized the full irony of what was about to happen. Read more…
March Photo-Dump
I didn’t need a photo-dump or a delicately selected #misplacedmagnet to tell me that March was about questions. My head is full of them still, and I’m hoping April showers will bring more than usual this year.
(Although May flowers would still be nice, because whatever nibbled my tulips to death last spring is back and I’m stinking angry about it. If I catch whatever it is, we’re having stew. Plant-based diet be … put on hold.)
Sometimes his expression evokes the questions he doesn’t yet have words for. Sometimes he wears a guitar cable like a bandelier and bangs on a stock pot with his little, wooden Thor hammer, and his expression seems to ask what you could possibly be asking. Silly me.
For him, in this season, questions lead to discovery. Large domesticated rabbits on thrones in the mall, puddles, mud, foods, books … His greatest, most pressing questions can be explored, answers found, consequences minimal.
Unless it’s after lunch and he hasn’t had a nap, then the consequences are sometimes tragic. Sometimes Jesus gets decapitated. Read more…
Spits and Wiggles 