remind them of the love they will always have from their heavenly Father,
from their family,
delight in watching them,
and dream with them about the plan He has for their lives.
So much cause for celebration.
In the background of all this celebration was the memory of this time 1 year ago. Mixed in with the celebration of life, there was heartache. Separation. Unknowns. Amplifying our joy this year was the memory of scars we'd choose to endure 100 times over for the joy the completion of this adoption story has brought us. For what it taught us about our adoption story.
Saturday, many of our loved ones gathered to celebrate that with us.
Many Valentine's ago, my Dad (who I probably inherited my sweet tooth from) surprised my sister and I with the BIG Russell Stover's heart-shaped box full of Valentine's goodness. It was such a thrill to hold something half your size full of candy just for you, that we were beside ourselves. After that, he bought us a giant heart full of the good stuff every year. (Yum!) Just last weekend we got to see Dad for a brief lunch (super grandads will drive 3 hours one way just to have lunch!) and before he pulled off in his pick-up, he pulled out 2 giant heart-shaped boxes for my sister and I: favorite Valentine's surprise for the win! To say a special thank-you, I decided to capture each happy moment of reaching for one of those chocolates this year - both the best chocolate-butter-cream-melt-in-your-mouth moments, and the pass-the-icky-strawberry-cream-to-your-husband ones, culminating in the last delightful chocolate truffle. #savethebestforlast
We've almost made it to 2 without introducing the boys to tv, although we did take them to see "Frozen," their second movie in the big theater (where I spent half the movie saying "Watch! Watch!!" while the boys were mostly interested in the carpeted stairs), and we've had them playing in the tv room a lot the past couple of days so that we could introduce them to Olympics. #notintersted.
I mention this because one morning last week I was putting together the boys' outfits for the day, when Gabe spotted a hooded Elmo onesie hanging in the closet. It's a hand-me-down he's worn before, and he was all about wearing it RIGHT NOW. The outfit is warm and snuggly, so I was happy to put it on him, and then he marched himself to the mirror and was very pleased with his red reflection. He kept smiling and pointing, and I told him he looked like Elmo. (A character he's never seen.) He was pleased.
Zeke had been contentedly playing legos all this time, but while Gabe was giggling and pointing and I was repeating, "Elmo! You look like Elmo!" Zeke looked up for the first time. He was struck with Elmo wonder. He stood. He stared. His eyes got big, and then his arms went straight out - like Frankenstein. It was hilarious. Gabe thought so too, giggling as Zeke started marching toward him. I couldn't believe, clear as day Zeke started saying, "Elmo. Elmo." -like it was a word he'd practiced 20 times before. Just as he got within reach of Gabe, Gabe's enjoyment of Zeke's fascination wavered. His smile faded, and he took a couple steps back. Zeke marched onward, arms outstretched like a zombie: "Elmo. Elmo." Gabe stumbled backwards again while Zeke kept marching toward him, and then spun on his heel and ran for it! I grabbed for my camera, SO sorry I had already missed so much of this hilarious moment. By the time I got it turned on Gabe had made it through the bathroom and into the next room! This is where our video picks up...
