Top of Utah Marathon day

Well, I didn't actually run the marathon today but I sure feel like I did. No, I take that back. I can walk down the stairs without death gripping the handrails, so my leg muscles aren't sore, but I've been up since 4:45 and on my feet ALL DAY. It sure was fun though!

I've been involved with the marathon since 2001, just before running my first marathon in St. George. Now I'm the treasurer of the local running club and on the board for the marathon, and I love it. My main responsibilities are incredibly important: I get food :) Donuts for the aid station volunteers, string cheese and Pepperidge Farm cookies and goldfish crackers for the runners (odd choices but strangely appealing after 26 miles of Gatorade and Gu). Oh, and I help wash the leftover clothing, which is always so surprising in terms of just how many runners leave stuff behind. We always find some wiiiieeeerrrd things. I'll post an update after we go through the clothing on Monday in order to wash it all.

Anyway, my sister Audrey came up last night to help with packet pick-up and as always we spent most of the time laughing, finishing each other's sentances, and thinking the same things. This morning we delivered the above mentioned donuts to volunteers, accepted with varying degrees of gratitude (teenage boys are the most expressive) and returned to "catch" at the finish line. If you've ever watched at a marathon finish line you may have noticed how some runners, after bravely running every step of 26.2 miles, suddenly lose all locomotive ability and gravity increases exponentially once they cross the line. So, we catch. It's funny, some collapsers we can spot coming a block away, and others look great until their eyes start to roll back and then it's a mad dash to grab them before they hit the pavement. Some runners still have a pretty good sense of humor, and others are not amused. One girl I caught came in at 3:40:43 or so, concerned that she missed the 3:40 cut-off to qualify for the Boston Marathon. I told her that she just had to beat 3:40:59, and she hugged me and told me she loved me - about 10 times.

Still, the highlight had to be as the women's wheelchair winner was approaching the finish line. We have a yellow banner that two of the committee stretch out for overall winners to "break" as they cross - we've tried to coordinate it so that one of us lets go and the other hangs on to an end to keep the athlete from dragging it all the way down the finish chute. Kris and I had it all worked out, but as the female wheelchair athlete approached, a male runner ran up along side her. As I went out half way to stretch the banner out for her, this male runner (who was probably the 11th or 12th male runner to finish, so he KNEW he wasn't the winner) saw me and obligingly changed course to run and break the tape! Wha...? I only had about a half second to stick my arm out and none too gently nudge him away ("No - go over there!") and in so doing, I didn't get the banner where it needed to be and I ended up practically clotheslining the poor wheelchair gal. Embarrassing! I shoved a guy at the end of a marathon and nearly choked another athlete! As I turned around I saw the TV cameraman laughing and saying, "I just got the best footage!" I did go up to the male runner to apologize for shoving him and he laughed (albeit dazedly) and said, "I don't know what I was thinking!"

Another fabulous moment was when I had to run through the last block or so of the race trying to catch a dog who kept harrassing and cutting in front of runners. One of the spectators handed me a collar that the dog had slipped out of earlier, and when I finally caught up and snapped that collar on, I had to drag that dog back towards the EMT's and highway patrol. They suggested that I tye it up to the ambulance while they called animal control. My marathon duties are many and varied...

Anyway, it was a great race, and we had EXACTLY the right number of medallions (actually, Jeff had to retrieve the one in his car that he was keeping in reserve). We couldn't have planned that better. And the last two ladies to finish crossed the finish line at 8:12. Wow. The first runners and the last are always the most inspiring. They were two sisters, one dealing with weight issues and the other recovering from a blood clot-induced coma 18 months ago. Real people are so amazing.

Anyway, I had this poetic post all planned out in my head to describe the zen-state I achieved while doing my long run Friday morning, but that will have to come at another time. I'm tired and I'm guessing you are tired too.

Of reading all this marathon babble!

Grandpas, go-carts, and lovely daughters

When my dad announced his retirement in June, I had all kinds of visions of hiring him as General Purpose Handyman to complete the myriad of home improvement projects we have here at the Housley House. Unfortunately, my mother and siblings all have the same idea, and poor dad has the next 15 years all scheduled out. Still, he did come up for a few days to help with placing a border around the rock walls in the back yard, something we've needed to do for, oh, seven years now. What a tough guy. He finished in about 2 days worth, and it looks marvelous. Now all I need to do is kill off the morning glory (experts estimate that will take 40 years) and then plant some nice rock wall plants. Sounds like a nice project for next spring...

He spent lots of time with the kids, especially Esther, and Caleb actually started to weep when he came home from school today to find that Grandpa and Tobi (the dog) had already gone home. Still, Grandpa has left behind his legacy: he and Caleb finally mounted a seat on that old go cart. We are all prodigiously proud of the recycling effort that went in to this go cart: notice what the seat is made from? And Lilo the cat is certainly not sorry to see Tobi go. She only once ventured downstairs while he was here, and she didn't make that mistake again. I've never seen her skitter away so fast.

We've had a few requests for a photo of our new daughter - we can't decide quite what to call her yet. Her Chinese name is Heng Ai (pronounced hung-eye) which doesn't quite roll off the tongue. It has a nice story behind it though: Heng is the name shared by all the children who entered the orphanage that month, and Ai, meaning love, was given to her partly because she is so cute, and partly after the name of the policeman who brought her in. I would LOVE to meet that man and thank him for his small role in her life. We know so little about her past. I've wanted to share some of this but it is sensitive infomation, so please think carefully about who you share it with. She was found abandoned at the age of two years old, and it just hurts my heart to think of a lonely little girl crying for her mother. I know it is hard to imagine what kind of person would just walk away, but I refuse to believe it was anything but an act of great sorrow and grief, an act of desperation. She had recently had surgery on her ankle, and it was not healing - in fact, it was downright lifethreatening. My suspicion was that the parents (who COULD have abandoned her at birth, but did not) intended to raise this little girl, but after a poorly-done surgery, they brought her to Wuhan, only to find out that the necessary medical care to save this little girl's leg was more than they had or could ever get. It is hard for those of us who receive fairly decent medical care (with health insurance to cover the majority of the costs) to understand what it would mean to a poor family with absolutely no resources (not a single credit card!) to face this kind of obstacle. I don't for a minute believe that she was an unwanted child, and abandoned because she was a girl. I can't, I WON'T judge these parents, this family. There is no way for me to walk in their shoes. All I can do is give their daughter, my daughter, the opportunities they would want and might have provided if circumstances were different. That's a promise I've made to each of the birthparents of my adopted children. I'm gonna love them forever. That's the easiest part of parenting!

Anyway, what I started to say is that the CCAA (China Center for Adoption Affairs) won't let me post her photo in a public forum until we have a letter from them called an LOA - we won't get that for four months or more. We will travel to get her shortly after that. SO, if you want to see a photo, and you aren't just some random stranger, just let me know and I'll email one to you. She doesn't look anything like Esther, I think, but a friend mentioned she has the Hubei face and cheeks. Can't wait to kiss those cheeks!!! And many thanks to those of you who have left comments or sent emails. It is wonderful to have your support!

Esther has been especially cute the last few days (she was charming her grandpa!) and I LOVE this age! Well, most of the time. She is speaking so clearly and her voice is so so sweet. Well, most of the time! She doesn't sound so sweet when she responds, "FINE, baby!" but we are helping her replace it with a more demure "okay, mama." Josh and Caleb think it is hilarious to teach her rude comments, and she willingly parrots them if they will laugh. I'm not thinking it is quite so funny. They nicknamed her Bootchie Bum-Bum, but after a parental order to cut the Bum-Bum, she still answers to Bootchie. Someone please tell me if that is a rude word in some obscure language! She is quick to say sorry if she bumps or hurts someone, and yesterday I said, "That's okay, I forgive you." Clear as day she said, "I forgive you too, Mama." I remember when she first came home how anxious I was to hear her little voice speak to me, how I longed to hear her say, "I love you Mama," and it is every bit as sweet as I expected. I also remember thinking how well she was bonding with us at first, and I think she was, but it is so much stronger now - it just keeps getting better and better with this little girl.

Our Exciting News

Big breath. We found her. We finally found her. We can't tell you many of the details, as China won't let us, but we can say, she's adorable! We are, of course, talking about the newest Housley daughter. Josh and Caleb's younger sister, and Esther's big sister. Yep, we're filling the big (seven year) gap between Caleb and Esther with a beauty who is about to turn five in November. Yes, yes, I know, adopting a 5 year old is a HUGE leap of faith, and a few days ago, this blog would have had a decidedly less-perky tone, but we are feeling the calm and peaceful feeling that we are on the right path!

I'll spare you all the sordid/mundane details about how we found a different agency, got approval from them to adopt out of birth order (meaning adopting a child older than our youngest - Esther), and realizing that this sweet little girl was the right one. Skipping to the more interesting part: She is from the Hubei province, seems very healthy other than her one special need (club foot), lives with a foster family, is always the first one to help up the younger children when they fall, wipe their noses, comfort them, etc. She's very smart and excels in school, knows colors, numbers, her name, nursery rhymes. She loves it when people comment about how pretty she is, but scowls when people stare at her leg. She has had surgery on her leg, but it doesn't appear it was too successful. We spoke to an orthopedist who believes that another surgery (or surgeries) will help give her full use of her leg and that she'll be able to have a very normal life (normal? at our house?! HA!). She may never run marathons, but that may be her only limitation. And we all know how overrated marathons can be, right? (Audrey, you know I'm only joking. I love marathons. I can't get enough of marathons. I wish I were running one right now.)

Now for reality... She will be five years old by the time we can go get her (January? February?). She will have memories of China, and she may have a definate feeling about wanting or not wanting to be adopted. Even if she is all for it, we will be sooooo strange to her in the beginning (stranger than we typically are), and leaving her orphanage/foster home will mean the loss of all that is familar to her. Imagine if every person your five year old child knew suddenly died, and he/she was taken by complete strangers to a completely different country with a different language, smell, foods, customs, everything. We have no illusion that this will go as smoothly as Esther's adoption did. In fact, we plan on it being much harder and much longer of an adjustment. A few days ago I started to feel panicky, are we really ready for this? Am I ready for this? I'm a pretty selfish gal, and I like my alone time. Am I ready for another child, and one who will need LOTS of my time and energy?

Fortunately, I got the answers I needed. The reaction I got from my parents was just priceless. and hey! We have a live-in interpreter! Thank you Jason :) Yes, this is the right thing. No, I'm not ready, but God will help me get there. He will prepare me if I trust Him, and He will prepare her. It's gonna be a bumpy ride, but man! what a ride!

A Curse Upon Sugarloaf

Now, you've got to understand the mind of Caleb. Here we have an extraordinarily confident boy. The sort of boy who JUST KNOWS things. Like how to tame a scorpion. How to hypnotise robbers. How to fix broken and castoff neighborhood toys. At one time, he was convinced he was a long lost member of the Incredibles Family. He hasn't convinced me with a lot of this stuff, but he firmly and truely believes it himself. He went through a phase a few years ago where he just knew he could win a toy out of those 50 cent machines where the clasping arms come down to firmly snag a priceless item and ferry it to the deliver-to-winner chute. Think "The Claw" from Toy Story. I tried in vain for weeks to convince him those are sneaky no-win wastes of money before I finally got smart and let him waste his own precious coins, then braced for the devastation when it actually turned out that I was right. Oh the weeping and wailing! He would still occasionally try it when he had shiny quarters burning holes in his pockets, lose again, and remember the hard lesson that those machines were dirty lousy cheats bent on prying hard-earned savings from unsuspecting and innocent youngsters. I honestly thought this kid had figured it out. But no.

A few days ago I hazarded a trip to Walmart with all four kids. It was just a quick trip (HA!), lasting less than an hour, and Caleb asked for permission to wander over to the little arcade just 20 feet or so away from the checkout.

I didn't realize he had money with him.

The next thing I know (and this happened in less than 2 minutes), Caleb came walking up triumphantly with a huge yellow teddy bear and an ecstatic grin. He actually managed to grab something with The Claw! He gave it to Esther right away, after all, the real prize was not the stuffed animal. It was Proving. Mothers. Are. Wrong. I couldn't believe it. I mean, this has set back Caleb's training by TWO YEARS! I will never forgive this company. My child is destined to become a gambler, I just know it. Now every time I see this tacky yellow teddy bear with the "Sugarloaf" brand on its ear, I want to curse them all to heck. Except when Esther is delightedly hugging the stuffing out of it.

Then it is kinda cute.

First day of school

I took several photos of Josh and Caleb before school (shocking, I know) but this one is my favorite.

Happy Birthday Josh

My baby boy is 10. Double digits. How did this happen? I remember so clearly that blue little bundle being placed in my arms, and how he smelled soooo good. My Josh, my first child, the one who made me a mom. The one who has taught me so much about what that really means. We've had struggles and ups and downs, but I have always wanted YOU. My most fervent wish for your life is for you to see the magic, the wonder, the amazing gift that you are. I love that you get so excited about a book that you try to tell me, and skip from idea to idea until I'm totally lost. I love that you have a tender spot for little ones, especially your sister, and that you can make her laugh like no one else. I love that you get totally on a roll when cooking and go way overboard. I love your giggle when you are really happy. I even love your vulnerability, the way you question yourself, but I love it more when you trust in yourself to succeed. You are a light and a joy. My precious baby boy.

Twilight, and the new normal

Now that the kids are back in school, I thought (foolishly) that I could get caught up on laundry, dishes, the constant layer of crumbs on the kitchen floor, and my house would look like someone actually made an effort to keep it presentable. You can probably guess where I'm going with this. Aside from the master bedroom, which looks nice mainly because we've piled things in the closet, I can't really tell much difference from pre-return-to-school and now. Okay, I will admit that I read ALL FOUR of Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series books between Thursday afternoon and Monday afternoon, so it wasn't like I was sitting on the couch watching soap operas (I was sitting on the couch reading a soap opera!). I resisted the siren call of those books for as long as I could, with perhaps a touch of pride that I was apparently the last warm blooded female to hold out, until my sister Jen made all four books available at once, and I just couldn't resist. I called her after finishing the first book and immediately starting the second, and could only squeak out, "CURSE YOU! I can't get a blasted thing done until I see how this series ends!" Yes, yes, Edward was perfection, and I've always had a soft spot for Native Americans (Jacob just sounds yummy) but I have to admit that I'll take my warm, real hubby over fictional characters any day. Snuggling up to Mike is still way better than reading about Bella snuggling up to vampires or werewolves, however divine they are. And now when the topic of conversation turns to the books, I can actually gush right along with the best of them.

Jason seems to be adjusting well, though I think he spends too much time in the bat cave that is his room on the lower floor. I don't get to hear much about his day, and I always feel like I'm bothering him when I go down there. He has admitted that, so far, Spanish is his hardest class (learning a foreign language through another foreign language sounds soooo easy) (Jason, if you read this, what I just said is considered SARCASM - you'll probably find a lot of that on this blog). He is enjoying his cooking class more than he expected, and he made a mean batch of cookies last week. Which were all eaten within 24 hours. No prizes guessing who ate the most (me). We all had a great time at Bear Lake last Saturday (forgot the camera, big surprise), and my two boys even admitted that it is still possible to have fun without jetskis or boats. Jason and I tossed the frisbee back and forth while Mike cooked kebabs on the grill, and Esther was just Esther. Happy, happy, happy.