Lois - 8th grade; Julia - 1st grade; Rachel - 11th grade; Hannah - 6th grade

First day of this new school year!   Their pencils are all sharpened.  Their lunch accounts are funded.  Everybody got new clothes and a backpack - though I found out Friday afternoon Hannah won't get to use hers, at least for school.  Sixth graders get lockers, but are not allowed to carry backpacks because they get books for school and home.  We made a rushed trip to Academy for a Dickes shoulder tote for transporting homework.

Hannah and Lois will get one year together in middle school.  Julia had last year in elementary school with Hannah, but won't be in school with a sister again.  Makes me a little sad - but I am so thankful she and Hannah were together last year.

Julia chose a Dora the Explorer shirt for this important first day, and ate her scrambled eggs from the Dora the Explorer plate using themed utensils.  When Rachel asked (in jest) if she could use the plate and utensils, Julia replied, "No.  You do not look like Dora, Rachel."  Word!

The girls' excitement offsets my - ummmmmmm - lack of enthusiasm for the amount of parental self-discipline the school year requires.  But hey - We've been doing it for 11 years, and we have only 11 more to go.  So.....

Saw a casual friend this week who knew us when we started our adoption paperchase in 2004.   As she fingered a wallet photo of the girls, she asked, "So which ones are yours?"

Hmmmm.  Which ones are mine?

Rachel, Lois and Hannah will always be mine because I birthed them.  Half of their DNA is mine.  Nothing will ever change that.

They're also mine because they slept countless nights curled up on my chest in the formula-stained rocker we still use.  They're mine because I lugged their diaper bags, burped them and watched "Barney."

Yawwwwnnnn.....that's two-year-old Rachel and preemie Lois her first night at home, after 37 days in the NICU....

A young woman in Russia birthed Julia.  Half of Julia's DNA is hers.  Nothing will ever change that.

I never rocked Julia as an infant, or toted her diaper bag, or burped her or endured "Barney" for her.  I can't change that. 

I can, though, cuddle her in that same (somewhat crusty) rocking chair now.  I can help her pick out a new rolling bag for her occassional spend-the-night with friends.  I can fix her cup of hot chocolate every evening.  And I've been known to watch a few minutes of "Power Rangers" while folding clothes.

I think Julia is mine not because a judge in a distant courtroom said so, nor even because she lives under this roof.

She's mine because Keith and I promised before God to rear her not like our own, but as our own.

So which of those girls is mine?

As I told my friend - "They all are."

Cowabunga,dude - I've just Simpsonized our family.

Here's the Mister.  D'oh!

And moi in da kitchen.

And Rachel with the "I just straightened it" hair. 

Lois could knock out a few scripts for Itchy and Scratchy in an afternoon.   And they would disturb you.

Hannah and Lisa could be friends, braced - uhhh - united for social justice.

And Julia the soon-to-be-first-grader, who would love to have a turn with Bart's skateboard.

There's a bit of irony in a hamburger chain promoting a movie whose central character rose to fame saying, "Don't have a cow, man." 

But still - you gotta love Burger King promotions, like this Simpsonizer, and the Subservient Chicken.  You don't?  Really?  Well remember what Marge Simpson says:  'Listen to your heart and not the voices in your head."

It's raining.  Again.  Really unbelievable for Texas in August.  Hannah  and Julia - stuck indoors all day  - applied their artistic talents to "after the rain" and "during the rain" colorful creations which will soon grace my AT&T cubby wall.

Daddy's old shirts prove most excellent painting attire....

Rain....It's Grrreeattttttttttt!  Of course, Tony was himself dry inside Wal-Mart tonight, where we went during a lull to break the monotony.

Lake Woodworth with grass islands in our front yard....

Three of the girls - including these two drizzly pups- have been to the doctor with sinus infections in the last 10 days.  If my cremated mother had a grave, she'd been turning over in it, seeing them all wet after carrying in groceries.

Raindrops keep falling on my head

But being the Mom who never seems to get to bed 

There's a lot to do

So

Come grab some bags and just keep on a'goin'

Groceries aren't free

Don't complain to me.

That isn't the school bell you're hearing quite yet - it's the ring of cash registers.  For snazzy backpacks  School supplies.  Lunch kits.  Calculators.  And, of course, some new clothes, because seldom do the shorts that fit in May still fit in August.  And somehow those sneakers are a little snug, and most of our socks are singles with the other halves being long forgotten at a slumber party or church camp.

August is our most expensive month.  And normally, it's made me grimmace.  But this year, there's a bit of joy cuddled up with the debit card in my ever-opening wallet.

Julia has grown.  Finally.   She's up to 42 lbs. and 45 1/2" inches - an increase of 3 lbs. and 3 1/2" since she came home 15 months ago.  And while she can still wear most of the clothes we bought then, some of the shirts really are too skimpy.  Her favorite Sponge Bob jammies are looking like high waters.  Her denim capris no longer need a belt.  We bought two Dora the Explorer church dresses in a size 6 - and they fit!

An early meeting in February '06 in Children's Home #47.  The difference in her hair is amazing.  It was so thin, sparse and crackly.  Now it is a thicker, shiny, beautiful chestnut brown with intriguing golden strands.  We think improved nutrition has made the difference.  Notice the sleeves of this size 6 hoodie are rolled up big-time.  It hung on her.  We brought clothes in a variety of sizes so we'd know what to bring on the second (coming home) trip.  I traced her foot in the notebook I carried everywhere, then matched that tracing to shoes.  When we returned in May, we took three pairs of light-up sneakers - the pair we thought would fit (and did), and pairs bigger and smaller, just in case.  We'd visited with a family who brought too-small shoes to for their 10-year-old son and he was miserable.  Didn't want that for her.  We left all the extra clothes and shoes at the orphange.  I'll bet there was scuffling over the light-up sneakers.

I am actually putting clothes aside for my three-year-old great niece Laura, and this pile of size 4 undies - including her favorite Curious George pairs - is going in the trash.

Goodbye, George.  Bottoms up!

Most of our clothes haven't been worth passing onto anyone, because they'd been through Rachel, probably Lois and often Hannah.  But Julia's stuff was either new, or from friends at church with only one daughter.  There's plenty of good left in them.

So passing on clothes is something to get excited about.  Shout about. 

Maybe even ring some bells - cash register or school.  Either way is fine by me as long as I get to do it again and again.  And maybe - please Lord - a little more frequently?  We'd like to get her up to 48" so we can do the better rides at Fiesta Texas.

We just put away the cooler, table and chairs from Neighbor's Night Out, a happy annual tradition you know had to have been started by someone up north.  I'm thinking most Texans would vote for Neighbor's Night Out in winter, not sultry August with mosquitoes as uninvited guests.

You can see that our yard is continuing to grow in.  Our neighbor Denise - an Air Force pathologist - is explaining, "You give me a corpse.  I'll tell you why it's a corpse."   Her dip was a hit, too.

(Some of) Da kids in da hood - or at least our cul-de-sac.  The dogs received a lot of leash-driven attention.  Lois (the show off) made hot chocolate chip cookies to complement the Oreos I so thoughtfully served.  Rachel went to a friend's house a couple of blocks over - "better snacks."

I like Neighbor's Night Out.  It's a great excuse to share neighborhood gossip, bash the local politicians and share recipes, as well as catch up on everybody.  We've got Pam, who just started a post-retirement career at Home Depot - and loves it.  The woman now knows her countertops, baby.  We've got Colin the computer guy with his wife Keri, who were nice enough to invite Julia and Hannah to their backyard bible club last week.  We've got Kim, a sweet child in an adult's body who is always so anxious to help.  We've got an assortment of kids ranging from age 2 to 16.  I like to look at them.  This is America and - praise God - we don't all have to look or act alike, but thankfully, they are all pretty good to each other (excluding their own siblings.)  The girls next door quit knocking months ago.

Please won't you be our neighbor?  There's a house for sale at the end of the block and we all want to see it sold soon.

For a7th grade home ec homework grade, I had to prepare and serve a dessert with my mom attesting to my effort.  So I added blue food coloring to a butterscotch pudding mix, topped it with orange-dyed Cool Whip and sprinkled Christmas-themed candy bits along the perimeter of each bowl.  My midwestern mom wrote, "It was creative.  I think." 

Sound gross? 

Well, maybe you should have seen the cafeteria workers at our high school, dipping directly into stainless vats of steaming vegetables with transparently-gloved hands and slopping watery servings on our trays with juice dripping off their elbows.

Sound more gross? 

Get ready. 

Hannah and Julia took a children's (duh) four-day "Gross Cooking" class at church this week, toting home Rubbermaid tubs of food that was quite creative.  I think.

Monday's Marvels - Boogers on sticks (green Cheese Whiz on stick pretzels), scabby pus sandwiches (jelly, butter and fruit on bread) and babies' dirty bottoms (caramels stuck into marshmallows with stick pretzel legs)

Tuesday's Treats:  Ear wax on a swab (miniature marshallows dipped in orange white chocolate stuck to a straw) and spit out sandwiches (shredded peanut butter sandwich with marshmallows)

Wednesday's Wonders:  Armpit hairballs (Wheaties and chocolate) plus dead skin cells with worms (butterscotch and white chocolate with gummi worms)

Thursday's Delight - Penicillin pizza (English muffins with tomato sauce, white cheese and green Parmesan) and used bandages (orange icing-topped graham crackers with marshmallows and fruit roll-up shreds)

Hungry, anyone?

Tonight I was fishing through an envelope of old photos, hunting an appropriate print to scan into a greeting card for a friend.  Rachel peeked over my shoulder and muttered, "Wow.  You used to be good."

I settled on this one for the card - a yellow rose shot in a neighbor's yard.

Here are my favorite photos pulled from that envelope....

This bud's for you, Judy....especially since a print of it is hanging in your hall bathroom, thanks to the annual Houston Azelea Trail.  I used to have Saturdays to do things like that.  Now - ummm - not so much.

The rain drop intrigued me. 

Did you know tulips started off in Asia - not Holland?  I didn't, until I heard it on the  Azelea Trail.  I've always found green the most soothing color, and sought it for backgrounds. 

Moving right along - and up north - to this Indiana hay field in 1985.  Only after I visited in fall did I understand my mother saying, "I miss seasons."

Fireworks from the rooftops during Houston's sesquicentennial celebration in 1986.  Sarah, her friend Eileen and I spent the night in a downtown hotel so we could catch the primo views.

No rooftops here - just 14-year-old Sarah twirling sparklers in front of my apartment in 1986.  This was way before Photoshop, people.

Choo-choo!  The Galveston Railroad Museum.  I had prints of these statues color washed in green and later copper.  Quite dramatic.  A green wash hangs framed in our kitchen.

And finally - a Santa Barbara coastal sunset.  When I see this print, I think of "Now the Day is Over," which we often sang as a parting hymn in church of Christ Sunday night services.  "Now the day is over.  Night is drawing night.  Shadows of the evening steal across the sky.  Now the darkness gathers.  Stars begin to peep.  Birds and beasts and flowers soon will be asleep."   Sometimes I miss acappella harmony so badly, strains trickle from my lips unconsciously.  So if you hear me singing bits of a harmony solo, forgive me. And just tell anyone else I'm off my medication.

Now, most of my shots are of Vacation Bible School, or a kiddo's birthday party. 

So maybe I did used to be good. 

But now I am good and happy.

No, we're not adopting again (did you hear that, Keith?)  But we did decide to assume sponsorship of a five-year-old boy in Muldova, "Ion" (John), through Children's Emergency Relief International. 

He's a cutie.

Orphanage kids in Moldova have two sets of clothes - winter and summer.  Their summer "camps" have no electricity or running water. 

For $35, all six of us can go to What-A-Burger.  Or five of us can go to a matinee movie.  Or four of us can buy a new paperback.  Or three of us can go play arcade games.   Or two of us can each buy a new video.  Or one of us (and that one would be me) can get a pedicure.  Or....we can sponsor Ion each month, with half the money going to improve his standard of living now, and half going into savings for him pending his discharge at age 16.

Freinds at church serve a Moldovan mission each summer, and many are already sponsoring children.  We are absolutely confident of where our money is going.

One friend had spread dozens of sponsorable kids' pictures on the counter Sunday.  LIttle girls.  Little boys.  Little girls with summer shaves that looked like little boys.  Familiar names.  Names of all consonants we had no idea how to pronounce.  Some kids as old as Lois and some younger than Julia.

So how do you pick?  Because to choose one means leaving the others.  

I did what any wise, well-educated (and cowardly) adult woman would do - I backed off, and let the kids choose.  They wanted a boy, and with very little discussion and (surprisingly) no fighting, they selected Ion.

Julia is still a little mystified as to why we are not making him her brother.  "Why he no come home?" 

Because - just like when we were in Children's Home #47 - we choose one and left the others.

Keith and Lois are sitting at the breakfast table right now, devouring Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows with a side serving of bagels.

Keith - page 459; Lois - page 401.  She's the faster reader, but he had a longer nap yesterday.  Yes, they bought two copies of the book.  Share?  Surely you jest. 

The queued early Friday at Barnes & Noble to join a few thousand of their closest friends in a quest for....

This all-important reservation confirmation.  Think "Southwest" - without the peanuts.

Then it was back to Barnes and Noble at 7 p.m. last night, awaiting the midnight hour.  They each drank a "butter beer," but passed on the soap-flavored Jelly Bellies.  Many of the early morning enthusiasts had morphed into They That Have No Lives, as evidenced by Lois' photos:

Hooters

Sweet, sweet tats

Let a smile be your umbrella.

Keith's cousin Hagrid

....you'll never go back....

Making a spectacle of himself

If I only had a brain

The Grim Reader

Finally - Midnight!

So I think today I'll ask Keith several questions, like, "So how about I buy myself a new Nikon?  And would it be okay if I spent next weekend at a spa?"  Because what I'll get is a mumbled "Uh-huh."  Surely I can work those into conversation while he tackles the last 325 pages.

Go Keith!  Go Lois!  Vote in the poll (left nav) - Who is finishing first?!