Meaningful words

I'm sure....like 98%....that the tantrums we've been having over meals this week has everything to do with medicine turning little tummies inside out, and nothing to do with the fact that they're two and they're discovering they have a voice in this world.

Namely, that voice likes to say "No" ...  A LOT!  Even when it doesn't make sense.

Me: Anna, do you want a snack?

Anna: ah-no

Me: Anna, do you want to get down from your high chair?

Anna: ah-no

Me:  Anna, are you going to eat?

Anna: ah-no

Me:  Anna, are you done?

Anna:  ah-no

.....Fine.  Let's try child #2.

Me: Addie, do you want a snack?

Addie: Snack!

.....followed by violent head turning and spoon slapping and cookie throwing.

At that point, over meaningless non-essential arguments, I am tempted like any parent to make a mountain out of a mole-hill and lose my cool.  And I have.  Repeatedly.

But I read this today from another adoptive mother, and the post that inspired her comment...Basically, I went on a blogosphere goose-chase because I was so hungry for the encouragement that was feeding my soul at that moment.

Here's the quote that rocked my afternoon:

"It is the words we use that will raise our children out of the mire, healing words of love and belonging and affirmation. Similar words that God took great care to speak over us through Scripture, reminding us that even in our pain and sin, we are loved, adopted, important, valuable. It is not coming unglued over spilled drinks and lost shoes and daily mistakes, choosing not to further injure their little spirits over non-essentials." 

Now playing.

I've got "Close of Autumn" by Caedmon's Call looping on ITunes right now.  It's all about the grace of God swelling up around us like a swollen stream.

On this day, I have the movie playing in my mind of the events this time last year when we got the call from our placement agent about AC's disability.  There were so many unknowns.  Will she function?  Will she talk?  Will she walk?  Will she have seizures?  Will she be able to eat?  How deep does the brain trauma go?

AC has made some big leaps in her physical development.  Our whole goal for the first year was sitting up and crawling.  Well, we still have three months to go, and she is now sitting up on her knees, crawling on all fours, sliding off the couch to a standing position (most of the time successfully) and pulling up to standing on some furniture.  She has leg braces, and can push a walk-behind toy in the grass or on carpet. She even managed to stay upright when our 75 pounds of hyperactivity, better known as Molly the Lab, tried to sideswipe her while chasing a soccer ball the other day.

Even as we asked those questions last year about her development...to no one in particular, because no one could answer them for sure...we felt that grace of God swirling around us like a small rip current in a stream of white water.  It came through the arms and words of faithful friends and family who assured us that they'd walk the road with us.

They have, even when I didn't let them fully know just how hard some of that walk was.  If life with the girls has been a journey, and believe me it HAS, then I would say we made our first big turn from "These people feed me" to "This is my family", and now we are at the junction of "Just how far can I go before I get in trouble?" and "I want to do the right thing to make you happy".  

And although starting daycare set Addie back a little in terms of her good sleeping routine, we are at that place that I think women who have a painful delivery reach when the pain of their last pregnancy is not as vivid and the children have reached a comfortable independence that makes you get that crazy twinkle in your eye of "How soon until we can do this again?"

Then you wake up at midnight to a pitiful wail and think: Just a little while longer.