So yesterday was kind of a big day in our family. It marked 2 years since we brought Tariku home.

2 years. How is that possible?

I didn’t blog, I have no pictures of our guy on this day.

I’m a horrible, horrible mom who was somehow blessed with this wonderous creature we call Tariku.

Some of my friends call this day “Mindful Monday” in the blogworld.

I have no deep thoughts about my life 2 years ago and my life now. I have talked (incessantly perhaps) about how our lives have changed since our little habesha walked into our hearts.

But honestly, the more time passes the easier it is to forget these days. To stop concentrating on milestones. Because even though they act as good reminders to say a little “thanks” heavenward, every other day he’s just our son.

He’s no different. He eats, sleeps, laughs and pees just like my other kids. I kiss his knees when they’re bleeding, I sing his nickname song and I ache and miss him when he’s not around me.

I adore his laugh, I can’t get enough of watching him eat, he’s life and love and brilliant and forever ours.

I had great hopes 2 years ago walking through the tunnel of the airport towards our family and our home.

But my hopes then don’t compare to our present day reality.

We loved the last two years and are looking forward to the next eternity together. Love that boy.

I know I’ve told you before about how much I love my little brother. I have since the day he was born, from what I remember (except for the notable exception when I asked my Grandma-on the day of Marcus’s birth 24-years-ago today-if him being born meant I couldn’t sit on my mom’s lap anymore….ahhhhh). Marcus was the cutest kid, the cutest kid. Always a little prone to shyness, but would always do whatever needed to be done. Help mom clean? Sure (show off). Help Tesi try on dance outfits? Sure. He was good like that.

But it’s funny how relationships change and grow in different ways as we get older. I still felt/feel fiercely protective of him but it became painfully obvious he could take care of himself as the years progressed. There was one thing I knew I could do, that was pray for him, and so I did.

After I met Zach and realized just how great and fun marriage could be, I started praying for my brother and sister to find that too. I started praying that they find people who can make them feel the way Zach made me feel, have a relationship that was so fulfilling like ours. I prayed that they’d find someone whose strengths matched their weaknesses and vice versa. A person who would challenge them, encourage them and love them. I also prayed that the people they ended up with would know that marriage isn’t all butterflies and roses, that it takes work and sacrifice and determination. That it is no fairy tale, even the best ones. That marriage commitment is just that, a commitment to stick it out, to work it out, despite how so very hard that might be.

And about 2 years ago I started hearing my parents talk about Marcus dating a girl named Lindsey. Marcus had dated before, but it was primarily of the “group dating” variety with his friends. Nothing really serious. But I kept hearing more of this Lindsey person. Then I got to meet her and I was pleasantly surprised. Not because Marcus wasn’t capable of picking good women to date, but because she was so great. Smart, funny, outgoing, didn’t put up with his crap, gorgeous, looked at Marcus with googly eyes, etc. They were instantly really cute together. I saw Marcus in a way I hadn’t for awhile (by nature of not being around him much when he was in college and I was in the family way) and that was this caretaker, nurturer, go-to guy. It was just so fun to watch them together.

Then Marcus got into the Palmer School of Chiropractic in Davenport, Lindsey decided to transfer to St. Ambrose and last August the pair of them moved to the QC. Having spent more days and weekends playing cards, watching movies and grilling out together I was just in love with the two of them together. My prayers became, “Please don’t let Satan screw these two up. Protect them. Nurture them. Encourage them. Bless them.”

And so He did. On Thursday my brother proposed and Lindsey accepted. A whole new ballgame. I get to be a sister-in-law again (I’m thrilled) and Marcus gets a whole new “title” in his life, that of “husband”. I have no doubts about these two. No doubts that there will be the very best of times, that they will be great for each other and to each other and that the times when they’re not, they’ll work through it and do what it takes to come out the other side together.

But for today, I’m just so happy and so excited for them.

Oh, and Happy Birthday baby bro!

So today was the annual “One Day Without Shoes” sponsored by TOMS.

That meant for the whole day (with the exception of when I was either walking through the Y-they have a policy about barefeet-or teaching my classes) my piggies looked like this.

The “One Day Without Shoes” campaign asks us to go without shoes for a day, an hour or a moment to put ourselves where a lot of the developing world is…shoeless.

I’ve talked before about Tariku’s feet. There’s a disease in Ethiopia that infects the feet and leads to some pretty awful stuff, 100% preventable with good foot hygiene and…shoes. Tariku clearly went shoeless his first 3 years of life. This is a real issue.

So try it tomorrow.

Until then, go here and getcha some. I might just have to purchase the “Purple Sumatra Vegan Classic”. Buy a pair, a pair goes to someone who needs them. One for one, it’s almost too easy.

Saturday night, with the whole family there, we decided to have a little photography session.

Before any picture taking there is always wrestling involved.

No wrestling is complete without their almost 87-year-old great grandpa getting involved too.

Lots of generations in this little picture.

With the grandparents (and dogs, obviously).

Our full family picture. I think I now know why they tell actors to never work with kids or dogs.

was fantastic. Saturday morning Zach and I had our final adoption classes. They were good, and meeting more adoptive parents is always food for the soul.

After that the ladies went to get our annual pedicures and the men went to play golf.

The crew sans my mom (the photographer).

Lindsey and Kara (my sister).

Kara, my mom and my grandma with their wine, we lead a very rough life.

Dailah got her first shot at a pumice stone. Tickled a bit, too precious!

It is REALLY fun having a girl, did I mention that?

Watching this relationship this weekend was so fun. Dailah and her great-grandma. I think they were both smitten with each other.

This fish was even more heinous than pictured. Dailah was enjoying putting her finger against the glass and watching ugly fish swim fiercely towards it to try to eat it.

Dailah couldn’t reach the foot light so she got creative.

We just got an email telling us that our dossier made it to Ethiopia today! Yippee!

We also just got an email saying that the two trip rule will come into effect May 9th. Our agency is saying we just need to have our case submitted to court before May 9th (that would mean we’re good to go with just 1 trip) but other agencies are reporting that you have to have a court date by May 9th (if that’s true, more than likely we’ll be traveling twice).

Are you loving this ride yet?

It’s a really tricky thing. I think the two-trip rule is great…for people who are just starting the process, thinking about starting the process, etc. Anything Ethiopia does to strengthen their ethical adoption program, is a very good thing. However, for those of us so close to bringing our babies home, this news is difficult for various reasons.

For us…financial comes to mind, as we’re talking about thousands of dollars. There’s also the issue of Zach’s work, taking all of that time off as well as at least one of the court dates landing smack dab in the middle of summer (impossible for Zach to do). The biggest issue for me is that our boys are 6 and 3. For the last year and a half, they’ve watched adoptive parents come meet their friends and then leave with their friends. Our boys would be one of the first wave of kids who met their parents and then watched as their parents left them again.

Can you imagine? 6 and 3-years-old. After hearing Tariku verbalize his feeling of abandonment when we left him for a few hours when in Ethiopia, I cannot imagine the feeling of abandonment our boys would feel if we didn’t come back for months.

Again, if we were just starting this and our boys got to see months and months of kids meet their parents, wait a few months and then leave with them, it would be a different (better) story. But the fact is I have no doubt it will hurt the attachment/bonding process for us and our boys.

I do have to say I’ve been coping remarkably well (if I do say so myself). I attribute it all to Tariku. I was truly loco during his process and now he’s here and he’s ours and he was worth every single second of panic, even if they were seemingly justified. So I know our boys will come home. I know that in 2 years, whatever happens, I’ll be praising God for the little miracles snoring loudly in their beds.

So eyes on the prize, we’re one step closer to bringing our boys home. I think that’s worth a Wendy’s frosty and a glass of Merlot. Salut!