The way that you see

When I was a little girl I found people with glasses interesting.  I would ask why them wore them, and what things looked like if they took them off.  Once when I was quite small I remember literally pushing up close to another girl and imagining if I got my head right next to hers maybe I could see through her eyes - see what she was seeing.

That novelty has long worn off, since by the time I was 13 I was prescribed glasses of my own.  In fact Dean and I have a very similar prescription for our eye glasses.
But we see so differently, Dean and I.

When we used to grocery shop together I'd zoom up and down the aisles with my focus on my list in hand.  Dean would notice people who needed help reaching something, or someone that he knew from the community and would wave hello.  We would actually get into arguments over this.  Dean got embarrassed when I would get so single-minded that I literally drove into another lady's cart when careening around a corner.  I would get frustrated that he wasn't staying on task and helping me get this job done.  I saw my list and the amount of time I had to get it done, while Dean saw the people around us.

When we would go out together I would just see Dean.  I would want to hear what he had to say and watch his face.  I focused on him.  Dean would notice people coming in and out of the restaurant and wave to people or stop and chat with someone he knew.  

In many ways we've become more like one another in the last almost 2 decades together.  I am much more aware of the people God has put in my daily path - I try to see them as God sees them, and I ask Him if there's something I should say to someone.  And Dean is more goal-oriented, and now when we go out for dinner he pays more attention to us as a couple - to how we are connecting right then.

There is one area in which I'm so glad we see differently.  Very differently.
The way we see me.
I am blessed with a husband whose eyes see me as beautiful when I'm very often not.  
I don't have a problem with self-image...  seriously, I don't.  Some things are just facts: such as behavior can make you ugly, and there have been more times than I care to remember when Dean overlooked my bad attitude and impatience and chose to see the beautiful things about me.  
And another fact:  head colds make you ugly - even if just temporarily.  But here I am 5 days into a nasty sinus cold and my nose is raw, my lips are dry and I've used up all the tissues and almost all the toilet paper in the house.  My voice sounds like a combination of James Earl Jones and Piglet on helium.  
I had just laid out my glass of water, my bottle of decongestant, my lip balm and jar of vicks beside my bed.  I was hoping to just get through the night still breathing.  My throat was dry because I couldn't breath through my nose at all, and so I huffed and puffed out of breath and finally plopped into bed.  
Then Dean comes into the room, sits down on the bed and says, "You're so pretty."
What?
But the way he says it, I know he means it.  
Many times my husband seems to see what God sees, even if it doesn't make sense in the natural.

Just like I was so curious about what people with glasses really saw, how their eyes worked, so I wonder how God sees.  Once in a while I kind of get a glimpse into what God really sees, and how different it is from what we see in the natural.
A couple years ago I had the privilege of being at a conference in Calgary.  We were given the option of touring the Calgary Pregnancy Crisis Centre - an faith-based organization that provides loving care for individuals affected by a crisis pregnancy. 

 Around 75 of us women signed up for this tour, and were bused there early one morning.  We were forced to park around the corner and walk a few blocks.  I looked around me at all these women, most in high heels or some sensible loafer.  They all looked fairly ordinary, middle-aged, and quite harmless.  I heard the giggle and chatter of of all these feminine voices, and the clatter and click of all their shoes on the sidewalk.  

What a picture we must make, I thought! 
Who could know that these ladies all worked with troubled pregnant girls and their families?  Who could tell the hearts of compassion and the strong spirits that lived within these individuals who fought for redemption and healing along with their clients?  
Skirts billowed in the light breeze, and manicured fingers stroked curls back into place as we hurried along.

Suddenly I felt like my view morphed into something completely different.  
I saw rows of trained warriors.  I heard the incredibly loud rhythmic thunder of boots marching in unison.  I felt these women carrying a power and authority.  I saw an intimidating army. 
It was only for a few seconds, but what a memorable moment!  It's whetted my appetite to see more of what God sees.  What's really going on?  Beyond the natural, beyond the cultural norms and habits and routines - what's the immoveable truth about a situation?

And so I've been so fascinated with this song lately.  It's SO good!

YOU SEE by Jonathan David Helser

  I see a mountain          You see a miracle

I see a wasteland          You see a garden 

I see dry bones             You see an army

I see impossible

You see everything

I see a seed                 You see a harvest

I see the water             You see the wine

I see the broken           You see your body

I see my enemy

You see your footstool

You are I Am, but I’ve

Been so blind all this time

My God touch me, I want

To see the way that you sse

I see my sins               You sin your blood

I see a baby                You see a saviour

I see my failures           You see redemption

I see a beggar

You see a son

I see my father            You see your son

I see a shepherd           You see your lamb

I see my saviour           You see your joy

I see your eyes

Staring at mine

Rough places made smooth

One of my most used prayers as a mother is "Lord go before us.  Make the rough places smooth and the crooked places straight."  
I have long lost track of how many times I spoke those words as we journeyed through Bronwyn's adoption, and as we literally journeyed to China and back.  The part I love is how many times I have been excited/relieved/surprised when something worked out so unexpectedly:
~being matched with a social worker who had completed her own adoption of a little girl from China a few years previous to us
~being adopted ourselves for the remainder of our China-stay by a wonderful family picking up their 2 year old in the same province on the same day 
~making friends with a commercial pilot who talked me out of some of my flight fears while we were in China
~the amazingly beautiful work done by the plastic surgeon in China on Bronwyn's cleft lip (and we weren't even aware that she was going for surgery)
~the precious way each of our birth children have made room for Bronwyn in their heart - evidence of Holy Spirit working in ways we couldn't know would be so important

Bringing home a baby with a cleft palate has brought us all sorts of new education.  B could store rice up in her palate, sneeze it out an hour later, and use it as a secondary snack.  She could make the cutest burbling noises as she pointed to the interesting things in her new world. And since her sippy cups/bottles had to have larger holes (she couldn't suck) she loved to pour them out onto her tray and splatter-paint like any gifted abstract artist.

 We met our cranial-facial nurse and plastic surgeon shortly after arriving in Canada. How light-hearted and cheerful they are.  How professional and capable... they set this mother's heart right at ease.  God knew that I NEEDED to feel confident in these individuals.  

We met the geneticist next, as we explored a possible history for Bronwyn's cleft lip/palate.  Before he labeled her non-syndromic (that's a good thing), he commented that she was left by her birth parents because she was a girl, not because they may have wanted the best care for her special need.  I got a little snippy (that happens with moms) and as soon as we got to the truck I vented to Dean: "He may be a brilliant scientist, and I'm glad for people who do what he does.  BUT, he is NOT an attachment specialist, and he is NOT an expert on the culture of China or it's adoptee demographic.  God knew that I NEEDED to get my thick mom-of-a-special-need-child skin in place.  
(BTW, I think every child has some sort of special need.  A time for every single child when his/her mother should get thick skinned and demand from friends, family, the school system, the medical system, the government or what have you, exactly what that child needs.  It's called being an advocate for your child.  It's tough.  It's important.)

Next we got the call that Bronwyn's surgery had been bumped up - it was supposed to be today, October 17th.  Instead she was called in on September 24.  I took her in and  she was oh so patient and cheerful through several hours delay with no eating or drinking.  

5 minutes before her surgery began with plastic surgeon Dr. Ross, the ENT Dr. Jones came to see me in the waiting room.  Bronwyn wasn't schedule to see her till November, but since she was in the OR that day, she suggested she look at Bronwyn's ears and put in any T-tubes while she was already under anesthesia.  I quickly signed the paperwork.  God knew I NEEDED to not re-do a surgery experience for Bronwyn again in November. 

 

Bronwyn sat in a little ride-in car and I pushed her around  until the nurse took the handle and wheeled her into the OR.  Bronwyn never saw that she'd left me behind. I was told she was "under" in less than 2 minutes from leaving my side.  God knew I NEEDED to not have her remember me handing her to strangers.  I had brought this to Him on several occasions.  4 and 1/2 months ago two loving nannies took her to a strange place and held her out to me and walked away.  I wasn't willing to copy that experience for Bronwyn.  

Right after surgery Dr. Ross came to fill me in.  The left side of the palate was very minimal, and he didn't know if the repair would hold.  He worked hard for over 2 hours for a midline suture, and so the left side may not heal completely.  He cheerfully informed me that we could do the surgery again in just over a year when she had had some time to grow.  I promptly texted my pray-ers. 

Recovery was very rough.  I'm so very grateful to the individuals who have been willing to share these personal details of their stories on blogs and websites so that I could prepare myself as much as possible. Knowing that attachment setbacks are common after surgery, that I needed to push her attachment needs with the doctors, and that with a repair like hers the road was predicted to be rough - those things did help.  
Did I mention that recovery was very rough?  
In the pre-admit clinic I had been told that babies wake up angry from surgery.  I could handle that.  I've heard angry before.  I worked with angry before.  I've calmed angry before.  

Bronwyn was not angry when she woke up.  Pain didn't seem a major factor either - of course she was uncomfortable, but morphine is a good thing.   I cannot describe the sound of her cries - all 6 and a 1/2 hours of her cries.  She wailed.  She sounded grief-stricken.  She sounded traumatized.  
The rest of the details of those 24 hours after surgery are hers and mine.  They were very rough.  

But God.  I love that phrase. 
But God gifted us with such kind nurses.  Each one that stayed with us (Bronwyn was in a monitored bed the whole time) was patient, affirming of all my efforts to calm my little one.   Anything I mentioned from children's videos, to soothing music, to lights on/off... anything I mentioned a nurse was right there to try it.  And finally Lisette came on duty later that night.  I was leaning against the high bed, B's back to my chest as she sat and we rocked side to side.  This beautiful young Asian nurse slid in beside me, wrapped her arms around Bronwyn and continued the same rocking motion so I could slip away and sit down around the corner.  Slowly Bronwyn drifted off and I watched as nurse Lisette just continued to rock, and rock, and rock... 
God knew I NEEDED to see Bronwyn loved before I could leave her side. 

Friends with more foresight than I had, had offered to take all the other kids while I was away and even after Bronwyn and I came home.  What a blessing.  Finding home made soup in my garage when I got home from a quick trip to the pharmacy to fill B's prescription, the texts and phone calls that kept coming to ask how she was doing, the messages reminding us that people were praying for our little girl - these things were gifts from God too.  

A full week of beautiful fall weather gave us opportunity for many walks.  When Bronwyn woke up every day from her nap, she was inconsolable.  The wailing would begin, and nothing seemed to help except actually leaving the house.  I would snuggle her into the stroller and off we went: Mama's house, visiting Auntie's twins, wandering Main st. and fully exploring The Scrap Shoppe and Bible Book Store...  The very next week it turned cold and windy and I wondered, "What would I have done last week if it hadn't been so nice out?"  Sunny days at the end of September are a gift from God too. 

All along the way my attention keeps being turned to the Father as I say "Oh thank you!  What if that hadn't worked out so well - but You thought of everything!"

Each night as I rock B before putting her in her crib, I sing "God is so good", and then I pray for her.  Each night I prayed, "healing, health and complete restoration inside and out of this little body, soul and spirit."
Last week we had the post-op appointment with Dr. Ross.  Bronwyn screamed and clawed at my neck anytime anyone in a lab coat came near her.  After the weigh and measure and initial reporting, Dr. Ross came in.  Funny thing - he did a jig and she calmed down.  He looked in her mouth and I held my breath...

"Looks perfect.  Exactly what we want to see," he said over his shoulder to the student surgeon with him.  "We won't need to see her again unless other problems surface that we are unaware of at this time."  I don't know if that means the near future or ever.  I do know that I kept smiling and smiling.  
It's been almost a month since Bronwyn had her palatoplasty (cleft palate repair), and I really miss her little burble noises - I think that's a little weird, because I also feel like a kid on Christmas each time she tries out a new sound. 

God has made so many rough places smooth and crooked places straight.  Places I don't even know I need to pray into.  He has gone before us.  Wherever we end up, I find that He's already been there. 

Let me count the ways...

Let me count the ways…

 

14 trips to California (and just as many to Disneyland),

1 earthquake,

18 jobs (between us),

6 countries,

3 concussions (all yours),

2 ongoing fear battles (flying and things that hop - both mine),

1 major crisis,

11 homes,

4 pregnancies and births,

1 adoption journey,

And 19 years ago I said “I do.”

Numbers.  So non-descriptive.   So generic.  So impersonal.

Where is the life in numbers?  The expression, emotion, passion… there is none.

I’ve always preferred words.   Words don’t just tell.  Words can show.

Numbers don’t show a marriage.  The number in a bank account doesn’t mean anything in marriage (thank goodness in our case.)  Even the number of years, or number of children, or number of fights don’t mean anything in marriage. 

How many times have I rested my cheek between your shoulder blades and smelled you and felt at rest for a moment in my day?  Countless.

What number would sum up our disappointments over the years?  It would seem like a lot – until we compared the number of joyful moments we have shared.

The pieces that make up marriage don’t seem to be the measurable ones.  Only God who captures ours tears knows how many are from sorrow and how many from laughter (and how many from cutting onions).

Miles and miles have passed as you hold my hand on the console between us and we discuss anything and everything – just because we like to hear each other. 

Funny thing – I can’t really remember any specific conversations.  I remember venting sometimes, crying (of course), and laughing until we couldn’t see the road. 

I will always remember how you reach for me before we even hit highway speed. 

But a specific number of marriage-shaping conversations?  Nope. 

You demand my eyes.  When I get lost in my world of responsibilities and my checklists to be sure my day is going as planned, you move into my line of vision and insist on eye contact.  How many seconds is enough?  For you – not until I end up smiling and forgetting the number of items on my to-do-list for a while. 

You have saved me from becoming professional.  Swinging me back and forth in the preschool chapel till I can’t get my feet under me, or kissing me in the hallways of the high school, my image to my students has always been affected by you.  The little pieces of you in those settings have immeasurable impact – on me and them. 

You are cocky – you know that?  Since day 1 (how’s that for a number?).  Well, actually I’m not exactly sure what day of that summer it was.  There you sat, hanging off the tailgate of an old pickup at the ranch – all you guys filthy from the horses and fields.  And it was my job to bring you a cold drink.  Me in my white blouse.  And you grinned, winked and patted your knee. 

What if you’d traded in the “young punk” for the “respectable minister” role as many have urged you to do over the years.  You’d have lost some of Jesus in you.  He too is audacious and daring and funny.  As I grow to know Jesus better, I discover the things I love most about you remind me of Him. 

“The best love stories tell the Greatest Story ever told and there are men who walk like Jesus even now and woo without a word because their life is their word.”

There are men who love their bride as their own body, as Christ loves the church.  That’s you. 

That’s you, winking boyishly from across a room full of people – reminding me that I’m the most important one to you. 

That’s you at the Great Wall of China as you climb behind me, hand on my lower back to reassure me you won’t let me fall while making a memory for our newest child.

That’s even you not getting angry when I laugh and tell people why you like to leave your swim trunks showing around the bottom of your wetsuit (so others will know you have them on).

Standing on the boardwalk after dark, one dim light shining nearby, I curl my cool fingers in the buttons of your barn coat and look up as you tell me something – I don’t remember what, as a moment later you kiss me for the first time.  I was 17, you were 20. 

How many kisses since?  Thousands?  Tens of thousands?  The number doesn’t matter.  What matters is that they happened. 

I thought I loved you then.  September 4, 1993 and I looked at you uncertainly, choosing to trust that you would do what you vowed to do.  But that was the least I’ve ever loved you. 

 

How do I love you?  Let me count the ways.

I love you in 3D – depth, breadth and height

To the ends of my being and to ideal Grace

I love you like the everyday quiet needs – food, drink, breath

By sun and candle-light.

I love you freely – as men strive for what’s Right;

I love you purely – as one turns from Praise

I love you with as much passion as I’ve ever felt

As sure as my childhood’s faith.

I love you with a love I seemed to lose

When reality stole innocence

I love you with the breath, smiles, tears of all my life –

And if God choose, I will love you better after death.

Adapted from Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)

I Won't Always Lose

Usually my 9 year old hates to lose. 
Take this year's Boys Club car races for example.  So many tears and frustration when his car didn't win - after all that designing and painting!  He has an analytical mind and so the losing takes on deeper meaning.  He had spent time thinking about what makes the car go fast and tried to plan accordingly. 
That loss didn't just mean his car wasn't very fast.  That loss meant he himself had miscalculated any number of different aspects regarding the design of the car.  That loss was a blow to his self-confidence.

For Kaden winning is not a common thing - at least not in the regular sense.  He hates any activity that demands physical contact.  His sensory perception being heightened, all aspects to regular sports are overwhelming.  His over-awareness of the world around him has made him feel self-conscious and very critical of his own mistakes.  His bright mind understands that others around him find many things in life easier than he does.  They are categorically the "winners" in life.

For the past year I have had opportunity to share on BLESSING your children in several settings. I like to show parents a little booklet called "Scripture Confessions for Moms" and I tell them that every morning I read one of these confessions along with the scriptures that accompany it.  I give authority to Holy Spirit to work out something specific in my children's lives.

One of those blessings is called My Children's Self-Image - some of it goes like this:
~My children understand that God's loves makes them valuable
~My children understand that who they are is determined by what God has declared them to be and not by what others say about them
~My children see themselves as more than conquerors through Jesus Christ
~My children see themselves as victorious and triumphant in life
~My children have a positive attitude and will not allow the circumstances of life to steal their peace

Although an apple tree in its infancy or in winter has no apples, we still call it an apple tree.  It IS an apple tree even without that evidence.  Sometimes we don't see victory and value in ourselves.  But as the weak are to say they are strong, so the loser shall declare himself a victor because God has declared him to be one.

And with my own repetition of this blessing, I am more aware of how I speak victory and encouragement to my children.

That same 9 year old (and his younger brother) went to camp for the first time this summer.  At the final rodeo event both boys were slotted to ride a horse that was stubborn and refused to trot - or even walk briskly.  (I longed to run out and slap the old nag's overfed rump.)  Out of five groups, each time one of my boys rode, they came in last.

Carson, the younger one, held up his 5th place ribbon to me and said, "I know what this means.  It means I lost!"  He was a little disgusted, but I knew he would bounce back.  That's the way he rolls. 
I immediately looked to Kaden on my other side.  He too held up a green 5th place ribbon.  But surprisingly his face had his trademark ear-to-ear grin.  "I might have lost," he said calmly, and then he stopped for a bit. 

"I got last place again." 

I waited anxiously to hear what he would say next.  I was arming myself with all the words of encouragment and support I could come up with.  My mind quickly went into "teachable moments" mode and I had already come up with a talk about "giving your best effort is all that matters", and "your attitude is what counts the most" and "we need to cheer for those who won"...

"I got last place again," Kaden smiled at me and then firmly declared "But I won't always be last.  I won't always lose." 
He sounded so content - as if he knew something that I didn't. 

And the morning came when I was on page 24 in my blessing booklet again, and I re-read the things I had been declaring and giving Holy Spirit the authority to reveal to my kids about their self-image:
~confidence...value...triumph...victory

Why am I always so surprised when God does what He says He will do?

In the good ol' summer time

We have had so many outings and events in the 2 short months since we brought our little peanut home.  With 4 kids in school, the field trips, concerts, track-and-field days, swimming supervision and so on, kept Bronwyn and I running between the kids' schools.  Then we headed to the zoo for a rainy Father's Day.  A week at the lake, a camping trip and a big birthday bash are already behind us this summer as well. 

Our Bronwyn seems to love life.  JOY and ZOE are two more names I wish we could have added to her already long "handle".  She constantly keeps us smiling or laughing, and just loves each new experience that comes her way.  And for Bronwyn, pretty much EVERY experience that comes her way is a new one!

Here are snippets of our June and July so far - and not in any proper order. 

 We already have so many pictures of Bronwyn in Madison's arms.  The girls have bonded so quickly and firmly.  They adore each other.   Because of their age differences this sisterhood is different than many - but Madison is a seasoned big sister, and was very very ready to take on a new little sibling. 

 We spent an afternoon and evening at my brother's place near Portage, and even went fishing in the river nearby.  Bronwyn met more of my family, and decided she really loves her cousin Bixie. 

Our first camping trip with 5 kiddos - headed to Stephenfield for 3 days.  We had a great time - it sure was cooking that week, so we enjoyed the beach, whatever shade we could find, and finally the a/c in the camper when we just got too hot.  Bronwyn was a trooper and loved it all... especially getting to sleep in her playpen in the middle of the camper where she could see us all when she woke up. 

 Bronwyn found a broken DS of one of the boys' and took an old glowstick to it.  She was proud as could be to be playing video games just like her brothers.

A week down at Pelican Lake was Bronwyn' introduction to the jetski.  When Daddy first set her on it she grabbed the handle bars and made motor noises.    She seems so attracted to quads and motorcycles and other loud vehicles.  She got her wish and off she went for her first watercraft ride.

As I got ready for Dean's 40th birthday party, Bronwyn was in on all of the planning.  She "helped" prepare the salads, wash and cut the fruit and set out the decor.  She even came along when I hid all the geocaches.

 Bronwyn is so serious in our pool - but definitely wants IN and does NOT want out.  A second after I took this photo she peed on Madison's hip and all the kids voted her out of the pool.

Bronwyn attended each of Kaden and Carson's school field days with me.  I thought her eyes would pop out of her head she was so curious about every activity and all the kids running about.  

And she visited Carson's grade 1 Celebration of Learning at the end of June.  

As Bronwyn gets more and more mobile she has become more and more adventurous and messy.  

If Bronwyn sees Madison she will immediately try to get to her.  This day, Madison had made herself a cappuccino and had picked up a good book.  She pulled the coffee table around in front of her so Bronwyn couldn't get to her and beg to be picked up.  Instead Bronwyn began to hide behind the coffee table, and then pop up and yell until the girls were both laughing.  Over and over the game went on:)

Near the middle of June I needed to wrap up a session of Princess of Purpose with the Blessing Ceremony.  Of course my Bronwyn was there for every minute - even grabbing my mic while I was speaking.  

Our hot weather the last few weeks has had us outside more than we are in.  For the first while Bronwyn would stay and play on an old sheet on the yard, because she didn't like the feel of the grass.  The kids would feel sorry for her, and run over once in a while to talk to her and play with her a bit. 

 Our little girls is SUCH a copycat.  And the kids get such a kick out of doing something and then getting her to try it. 
This afternoon Adrian was showing her how to be kind to the puppy. He kissed the puppy on the head.  She immediately grabbed the dog's ears and pulled it close for a kiss.  

Our little B's hair is growing in beautifully, and she is cruising along furniture (but not quite walking yet).  It honestly feels like we've always had her.  I was tucking her into her crib this evening and was hit with the idea that she truly feels like my daughter.  She's ours - the same way each of the other 4 are ours.  Having her in our family doesn't feel strange or different or weird (I've been asked that many times).  Having Bronwyn in our family feels right.  It feels designed and planned and perfect - exactly the way the Giver of all good gifts does things.  

Has it been a month already?

Tomorrow is the one month mark since we were blessed with Bronwyn. 

It still seems surreal... the 4a.m. wake up call in Bejing... the early morning check out and breakfast on the tour bus... the long bus ride from the terminal to the tarmack and the crowd pushing to get on that plane... landing in Xi'an and meeting our guide... "Come.  We go to hotel and then leave to meet babies at 3:30."... stepping into our hotel room and seeing the crib set up next to our bed... the bus ride to the civil affairs office... the nervous chatting with the other families as we rode the elevator up to the 6th floor... and finally...

"Wei Xiaoqian!  Wei Xiaoqian!"  The nanny holding our baby was calling out her name for us to recognize and come to her.  I've played the video of Bronwyn being handed to me over and over:  her hesitant eyes, her gentle cries as she reached back for her nanny, and within a few minutes, the feel of her relaxing and snuggling onto my lap. 

She has fit so naturally and quickly into our family that it's hard to believe she hasn't always been ours.  

Although our doctor tells us she's in the 5th size perecentile for her age, I can easily see she's gained weight and is turning quite roly poly.  She gobbled the first lunch we ever fed her, and has never turned down a meal yet.  Her rounded cheeks and pudgy thighs are two of my many favorite things about this new little family member.



On her fourth day in our care I took a picture of her in the bathtub - her first tubby that lasted all of 10 seconds.  She didn't seem to like it - rather she didn't like it that she wasn't attached to my body.  I would describe Bronwyn as a Velcro baby those first couple of weeks.  So she cried. 

I've sponge-bathed her and taken her in the shower with me ever since. 

A few days ago I began to put her in the tubby again.  What a difference!  She now splashes and spins around and makes silly faces in the water. 

Those little noodle legs that refused to bear weight the first few days have grown stronger and stronger.  At first Daddy would hold her up and pull her along, but she'd just fall forward.  A few weeks later, Bronwyn proudly lifts each tiny foot and slaps it down on the floor as she tries to walk.

When Bronwyn first met the puppies, they mutually agreed to have nothing to do with each other.  Within a couple of days, Darla & Dwayne discovered that babies drop food.  They come running if they hear the buckle on her booster seat snap into place, and then hover hopefully.  Soon Bronwyn decided she liked the two furry friends, and loves to scratch them under the chin. 

She's gone from baby food and formula to eating just about anything.  Our first Superstore adventure, I had Adrian along.  He wanted a cookie.  I got one for little B too, and broke off a small piece without any chocolate in it.  I handed that to her and set the rest of it on some groceries behind her.  I picked up a bag of bread and when I turned around she had somehow managed to grab the entire cookie.  She was so proud of herself - and ate the entire thing.

Each one of the older kids has a unique connection with Bronwyn - and as much as we are blessed to have her in our family, I see she is blessed with these older siblings that love on her with smooches and laughter and playing. 

It's hard to believe it's already been a month.  It's hard to believe it's only been a month.