Yesterday my grandpa was able to go on an Honor Flight. My mom had been working her little butt for the last year to get my grandpa on one of these and it finally came to fruition.

His flight left super early in the morning (6am, ouch!) but was to get in at 10pm. So after teaching my last class, my sister and I drove to Cedar Rapids to welcome the vets back. It was a cool experience being there, not sure how to fully do it justice. There were well over 200 people there, some with ties to the vets coming home, others who just come to the airport to thank random vets. It was a very interesting dynamic to say the least.

My grandpa is a man of no very few words. He’s not the kind of guy that patted the seat next to him and said, “Tesi, let me tell you about my time in WWII.” That didn’t happen. But he’s still partially to blame the reason I turned out the way I have.

He is literally the hardest working person I know. At 87 years old he still helps my uncle out on his farm, and whenever he visits my parents he is taking long walks or pulling weeds in their garden. I like to think I get some of that get-up-and-go spirit from him.

I also like to think he gave me a bit of my sense of humor. He raised 5 kids who all turned out to be some of the funniest people I know so it’s not hard to see they would’ve had to have a pretty good, hilarious role model in him.

He and my grandma taught me that marriage isn’t all about laughter, love and googly eyes. There might be some yelling, some eye rolling and some self imposed time outs that need to happen to get through 62 years with the same person and still kiss like a couple of newlyweds.

But really, the two of them taught me to just live life. Don’t let it pass you by, just jump in and enjoy it to the fullest. Cedar Rapids is over an hour from where we live. Kara and I were exhausted from our day but we knew we wanted to be there for our grandparents, because they were always doing that kind of stuff for us. I really can’t explain to you how much I love them and how happy I am that I’ve been able to get to know them as an adult.

On to more pictures…after dinner we headed to the airport to wait for the patriarch. Grandma with Kara, my sister.

My 1st cousin once removed (also known as my cousin’s little boy) Carter. Those eyes!

My other 1st cousin once removed, Max.

The gang who came to support my grandpa.

Kara, grandpa and hotflawedmama (please excuse the sweat and pre-pubescent acne on my part).

My mom, grandpa and uncle Neil (mom’s brother).

 But this man, this man deserved to be celebrated and honored with such a crowd. He’s good people this one, and I’m sure happy to share the same family tree with him.

Bini had his first appointment yesterday. It went exactly as we thought.

He needs at least one more surgery, possibly more depending on how well this one goes.

Overnight surgery.

3 weeks in full leg casts.

3 more weeks in knee down casts.

Ok?

That was the basic gist of the appointment.

“Will he ever walk ‘normal’? I ask

“Yes he should, though when he runs you’ll probably always be able to notice a difference, his ankle bones are just kind of fused together from being older than most kids.” The doc says. And then adds, “You’ll want to get him the best education you can because he won’t be able to work on his feet. People with club feet start noticing mid-foot pain in their 40s. That’s at least 20 years before retirement so you won’t want that.”

Ironic, I suppose, since my son was born in a country where he would’ve had to work on his feet. Had he remained in Ethiopia, there’s a good chance he would’ve been one of the beggers on the street. I’m not exaggerating here, I would say at least half the people we saw on the side of the street who were too old to be considered kids had some sort of lameness to their legs. Whether from club feet, polio or what have you. It’s just too depressing to think about.

But he was impressed with how well Bini got around now (everyone is) which makes him optimistic for Bini’s future.

I don’t know, it was exactly as we thought. When we were considering the boys on the waiting child listing we figured, “Yeah, we’ll get him home and then we’ll have another surgery or so and it’ll be fine.”

And it will.

But it’s different. This isn’t some little boy in Ethiopia who might one day be my son.

This is my son. And I don’t want him to suffer through this. Through the surgery, through a night in a hospital. Through 3 weeks with hot casts that won’t allow him to walk.

This is my son.

Which makes this whole thing totally blow.

It’ll be fine, he’ll be fine, logically I know this.

But man what I wouldn’t give to take his suffering.

So if I needed any reassuring as to whether I’m loving this little boy. There it is.

None of this leaves me with regrets, only a renewed vigor to enter into suffering with this boy who’s crawled his way into my heart and made a home there.  So here we go.

This will be seriously random, in no order whatsoever. Some good tidbits, some things I want to “scrapbook”.

–Last week we were eating with Frank and Terre and my 2 nephews. Eli (my youngest nephew, 3 years old) says to Dailah, “Dailah guess what! When we were babies we loved each other. And guess what else, we still love each other!” It was just the most precious thing.

–At that same dinner Bini blew out his first birthday candle. When we told him to blow it out he looked at us deplorably, “But it’s so beautiful.” he seemed to be saying. He blew it out then looked at me with straight up mix of joy, surprise, wonderment.” I looked at Zach and started laughing and before we knew it, Bini had stuck the candle wick in his mouth. These are things I take for granted that they’ve never known. Everyone knows not to put a hot candle in your mouth, right? Nope, little 4-yr-old habeshas not so much.

–This past weekend was Family Camp at camp. The kids were kind of sick so it wasn’t as enjoyable as years past but still good times. Anyway, it was a chance to put the new boys on horses and alpine towers and archery ranges, etc. The horses, well Tomas told me in Ethiopia he used to ride them so he seriously got on like an expert. He also kept kind of trying to kick the side of the horse, I think he was genuinely bored with the guided trail ride. Bini, on the other hand, was half freaked out half peeing-his-pants excited. He hopped on and started spitting and drooling and clicking and mumbling “Abiyu” which we really do think loosely translated means, “Oh shit I’m going to die.” But he actually ended up loving it and asks to do it again. So, gold star for us.

–Wednesday night I was cooking and Tomas came in. “Injera, please mommy, injera.” I was really holding my breath hoping he forgot all about injera. I’ve seriously tried making it more times than I can count and I momma fail every. single. time. But there he was. “Well, Tomas, I don’t know how to make injera.” “Oh mommy, I show you.” And he seriously went into every detail about it. Unfortunately, I’m the kind of cook who needs to know exact measurements and he didn’t know how much teff and how much water, etc. But his brains continue to amaze me. Last night I decided I could throw him a bone so I made my Ethiopian fries (I just add some berbere to cut up potatoes and bake them). He walks in the kitchen, “Oh momma Berbere, oh Berebere I love you! Thank you, thank you mommy. Good mommy.” Whatever, I guess I’m the kind of mom who appreciates the approval.

–Dailah walked into preschool yesterday, “Time for preschool, I’m going to go kick some butts!” No idea where she gets it, but I hope she tackles life with such tenacity and humor.

–Speaking of preschool, the littles teacher constantly tells me how Dailah is Bini’s security blanket. I, of course, have noticed this. Bini copies everything she says to the point of absolutely driving mama insane and goes where she goes, including the bathroom. Every time. Dailah gets annoyed (rightfully so, if you ask me) and Bini needs to find some independence. Not sure how to work through that, any ideas?

–Tomas LOVES school. He gets sad on weekends, every night he asks, “School tomorrow, mommy?” I’ve noticed this is a theme with a lot of older kids adopted form Ethiopia. Not sure what it is, but man it’s amazing. The other day I picked them up. Tomas didn’t see me at first so I just sat back and watched…as what appeared to be the whole school asking him to play with them, chasing after him, saying good bye. It. was. amazing. And way more than I ever thought to pray for. He is learning, loving and just as beautiful and joyful as he always has been. What a huge blessing.

–On Sunday I finally took Trysten to Urgent Care. His sinuses had gotten worse, he had an unexplained rash that seemed to be spreading and he had a thing on his knee that had gotten huge. Turns out, he had a sinus infection, poison ivy and the wound on his knee was an abscess that had to be drained. It had gotten so infected it got into his joint and made it hard for him to walk. Apparently me telling him to “walk it off” the week before was not a good decision. Momma fail, face slap. Crap. Hopefully he’s on the mend, though.

–I didn’t want to leave you hanging from my last post. Check out this charity: water video. Do you see what a little perseverance can get you? Goosebumps, tears.

when water events start coming at a frenzied pace. Our Water For Christmas team looks a little different than years past as our fearless leader has moved and probably because of that we have lost a few members. But after being in meetings with the group that’s left, you should know there is still great passion in the survivors and a real desire to continue giving life to our brothers and sisters in Africa.

I was talking to someone the other day about my faith. It’s kind of a tricky thing right? Like most things in my life, I’m a horribly flawed Christian. I literally have 0 Bible verses memorized (not bragging about this), I fall asleep trying to read the Bible nearly every night, we haven’t been to church since some very un-Christian like treatment of some of our favorite people happened there. The list could go on. So I was telling this person that if they were coming to me for verses to prove something, then they were coming to the wrong person.

I’m not, as it’s been said before, a Jesus tiny dancer. I don’t know all the right things to say. In a verbal volleyball game I’d get one ace (did someone say John 3:16?) and that’d be all she wrote.

Here’s the thing, I really believe my being a very empathetic person is a God given trait. I believe very much that Jesus isn’t sitting on the sidelines shaking His long-locked head at what’s going on down here on earth. I believe very much there are some mighty tears falling from those eyes. I believe with every part of me that Jesus cries every time shit happens down here.

And I believe we should too.

I don’t know any verse to tell you why to get involved in our water campaign, I just know that every time a child dies because of a lack of clean water, Jesus weeps.

And I’m kind of not ok with that actually.

So we’re back at it.

If you want to physically join us, we’re Walking 4 Water again. Go here to get a form to fill out. September 18th in Muscatine, IA. I’ll be there, with my 5 kids, my husband, my 2 ginormous dogs, my parents, my sister, my brother and sister-in-law and my 2 nephew dogs. You should be there too.

You can always go here to donate or become a part of our monthly givers.

Or you can save the date for November 13th. It will be our second annual “Wine to Water” party that I’m hosting. It’s going to be just as cool, just as amazeballs as last year. Probably even more so, especially if you all come.

All I know is this, I wore a pair of TOMS that I took to Ethiopia with me yesterday. I looked on the sole and found a little of Ethiopia’s red dirt left on the bottom. It was a physical reminder of the place in my heart/mind/soul that Ethiopia takes up.

This is a scratch I can’t itch.

So read the statistics, think about it, pray about it, watch this video, whatever you need to do but I’m guessing if you open up your heart, the itch will take over you too. Just give into it, man. Join us.

And that, will be one of my infrequent water blogs, I think you’ve heard enough about it from me. Oh, and just call me Sir Linksalot tonight apparently.

So Zach and I consider ourselves athletic. We both played sports since we were able to walk, we both loved playing sports throughout our entire lives and continue to enjoy doing some form of exercise still.

We’ve also been blessed to be at least decent at most sports we try. Zach played baseball in college, I ran track for part of it, in some cases we were better than average.

We also happened to have kids who seem to at least have the potential to be decent athletes. You know how you can just tell? Trysten can be pretty good when he tries and Dailah has pretty sweet running form, if I don’t mind saying.

We also happened to have adopted Tariku, who could throw a spiral football 3 days after coming home. Tariku, truth be told, is some sort of freak of nature. He is amazeballs at every sport he tries. And he loves every second of physical exertion.

Binyam actually shows great aptitutde as well. Regardless of his club feet, the kid is athletic. A few days ago he was hanging in between the couches doing a few tricep dips (do you know the upper body strength that requires?) Dailah tried soon after and promptly fell. Bini, after years of not being able to walk, has learned to manipulate his upper body to gain an advantage. This means watching him wrestle his siblings is sheer joy. The boy is good.

Then there’s Tomas. I’m not saying he’ll never be good at sports, I’m just saying there’s going to be a steep learning curve with this one. And honestly, Zach and I are at a bit of a loss as to what to do with a kid who shows little ability towards the sports.*

Zach took the 3 biggies to play golf a few days ago. We have this great course in Davenport that allows the kids to golf for just $1. The course is easy without many obstacles, thus perfect for kids.  Zach texts me at one point, “Tomas is horrible, he might just be a lost cause with regards to golf and/or athletic competition.” (Note: it was worded differently but that was the basic sentiment).

Then he sends me this video.

Come on, that is just funny. 

*Please know that we really don’t care whether any of our kids participates in sports, though we do credit our participation in them with teaching us many of life’s greatest lessons: time management, healthy competition, and in the case of our collegiate participation-beer bonging.

It’s true. He’s officially 4-years-old and officially very fond of whatever “Happy Birthday, Binyam” means. Because to him, it means lots of toys that he can call his own. And that is ok in his book.

Of course we tried to make a big deal about his birthday leading up to it. His brothers and sister were doing the countdown-to-birthday for him the past week with Dailah reminding him before bed on birthday eve, “Sleep. Wake up. Bini Birthday!” (My kids have become amazing at shorthand English, so have I if you don’t mind me saying).

Donut run early in the morning, thankfully the “three bigs” had to make it to school early and I had to drive them. So I stopped on my way to school. The bigs got a donut and I got three so all was right with the world…until Tariku told me he wasn’t hungry. That sound you hear is the sound of my brakes slamming quickly. Tariku? Not hungry? Uh oh.

I felt his forehead, burning up. Crap. Take Tariku to the school nurse, temp is over 102. Greeeeat. He comes home with me for a breakfast of Tyelenol. This guy had his donut for breakfast, none the wiser.

Then off to preschool. I made sure to buy probable 6 month old cookies stand over the stove for hours to prepare his birthday cookies for his friends.

After preschool pick up and a few classes for me, I dropped “the littles” off at aunt Kara’s and took Tariku to urgent care…where we spent the next 3ish hours. When we were finally admitted Tariku’s temp was 103.8. He hadn’t eaten anything all day and wouldn’t drink anything unless I held his mouth open and poured it down his throat. After screaming bloody murder a small wince when the strep throat swab was taken, it was confirmed…our boy (who hasn’t been sick in the 2 1/2 years since we brought him home) had strep throat. Poor babe.

That meant we weren’t going to be able to go to the Minor League Baseball game we had planned to go to with both of our extended families. At this point I was just happy it was Bini’s birthday and not someone who “knew better” and had assumed the day would be filled with sugar and dream fullfilling. Even after the news that we wouldn’t be going to the baseball game our birthday boy looked like this:

Turned out my parents and brother and sister-in-law decided they could risk possible death come give the birthday boy hugs so we went out for dinner. Bini got spoiled, I got alcohol, the kids were excited for him, there was lots of sugar and dreams fulfilled.

Trysten drew his brother a card complete with a few drawings of the two of them with their arms around each other.

Oh my Bini boy. He has come so far in just 2 months. Sleeps with no problems (as long as either Zach or myself is there, don’t ask our Friday night babysitter who was up with him until midnight about that), hugs like a little koala bear, has a new look in his eyes that we immediately identify as trust towards us.

Not a day goes by that one of his brothers or sister says something like, “I had no idea we were going to get a little brother that is so cute and funny!”

I would have to agree.

I had no idea I would get a(nother) son who smiles so effortlessly despite his past, who fits into our family so well. A son who is smart, and funny and precious beyond my wildest dreams. A son who constantly puts his underwear and pants on backwards and sometimes inside out. A boy who today, out of nowhere, told his aunt that the airplane she got him was “cool”.

Bini loves cars, is still leery of dogs, freaks out if he doesn’t know where Dailah is at all times, doesn’t mind being carried (but only by his older siblings, not his parents). The only food Binyam has ever asked for is Mac and Cheese (for some reason Iowa sweet corn never made the list) so we’ll call that his favorite for now. No idea what his favorite color is but I will say he looks dashing in yellow. Bini’s heart matches his eyes so if that tells you how amazing he is, then good.

Binyam, to me anyway, is the very definition of love. And tonight, even though he and Dailah were pulling shenanigans for WAAAAAAY too long instead of going to bed, I’ll fall asleep praising God for His abundant blessings poured out over our family.

I’ll pray for our family in Ethiopia who is missing this day but undoubtedly remembering it.

And then I’ll fall asleep repeating, “Thank you, thank you, thank you” to the Man in the Moon.