11-11-11

Um, so I was gone for a spell, no? I kinda think everyone is too busy to notice my little{big}absence of late. These holiday months are a doozy.

November ate me alive and spit me out in a million pieces. Well, more accurately, I bit off waaaay more than I could chew, so technically it was my fault...not November's fault. I must have thought I was super woman when I signed on for so many jobs...but apparently I am not.

Even though I was super frazzled and stressed last month, I don't want to forget about our little trip to Mexico.

Last spring, my pastor decided he'd like to take the whole church to Mexico on a 4-day missions trip, so that our church would be transformed. He called it "Adios, 11-11-11". My first impulse was "YES! We want to go!"...followed by "Oh no. What are we gonna do about Ollie and Twain?"

I debated for months. It would be nice to leave them behind with Grandma...but 4 days is a LONG time for Ollie to be away from me. And I did not want him to regress. He's been doing so well with life. I did not want to rock the boat. On the other hand, I knew my options in Mexico would be very limited while watching Ollie and Twain.

We prayed about it and finally John made the executive decision to bring them with us. "They are part of our family and this is a family experience! We will make it work!" he declared.

I felt relieved. I was happy with his decision.

We left for Mexico, early thursday morning with a 10-car caravan. That was insaaaaane.

At one point, we had to get off the freeway and ended up at the Santa Anita mall near Nordstrom.

Ollie pipes up from the back seat "Are we in 'Maxico' yet?"

Ohhhhh Ollie. Maxico. Hahaha.

"No honey. We are not in Maxico". Poor thing had no idea what he was getting into, if he thought Nordys was Mexico.

He then asked if we were staying in a hotel.

Boy oh boy. This was gonna be fuuuuuun.

Once we got to the border, our caravan got split up and all chaos ensued. I have been to Mexico 3 times before, but not since having kids. This was a completely different ballgame. For a moment there, I did question the sanity of bringing 4 children.

But soon enough, we were driving again...through the beautiful Mexican countryside, and I exhaled a sigh of relief.

Mexico has its own beauty and charm. The houses are so colorful!

I asked John if we could paint our house pink and he said "no".

Going through checkpoints until we reach our final destination: Rancho El Refugio.

There were almost 800 people from our church attending and so everything had to be extremely organized. We set up our tent in Zone 2.

The next day, everyone went to their respective sites to build houses, dig septic tanks, visit prisons and orphanages, etc.

Ollie and Twain were signed up for childcare at the ranch--if you chose the childcare option, then the rule was, one parent had to stay behind at the ranch. John and I agreed ahead of time that he would take Finn and Calvin to the building site, while I would stay behind at the ranch.

So that friday, 11-10-11, I stayed behind, doing odd jobs at the ranch.

And meet dog. He was the cutest dog I've ever seen at the ranch...and John wants one just like him.

Even though it's the cutest dog ever, I do not want a dog at all on account of all the poop, but that is another story for another day. I do love this dog though!

One of my dearest friends Alisha, also stayed behind at the ranch that friday, so that is why we got to hang out. Don't mind our squinty eyes. It was bright out.

Meet my nemesis. I seriously had to work up my courage all day to enter this beast. One of my jobs was to restock these porta-potties with new toilet paper.

Do you see that mint green basin to the left of the photo? Well. When I saw that all the toilet paper was getting all filthy just sitting there, I thought it would be a good idea to keep it nice and clean and place it in the tidy mint green basin. Yes indeed. That's what I did. I put all the tp in the nice clean mint green basins.

Later that day, I heard that the 'professional cleaners' came by and were replacing all my tp. "Hm...that's odd", I thought. What a waste of tp! Why are the replacing all my tp???!!

It was not til I got home to America that my friends informed me that the mint green basin to the left was the urinal.

I laughed til I cried. It's a true story.

And I have no idea what these yokels are so chipper about, skipping to and fro, holding hands amongst the porta-potties. {My friends think it's weird that I like to hold hands and skip to the potty. Do you??)

I bet those smiles would vanish to tears if they actually had to use these beasts. They got to use their little potty in the tent.

Later that day, Lish and I trekked up the steep rock path to the Hacienda house, where daycare was held. My biscuits are still burnin' from trekking up and down that hill 128391 times each day.

That afternoon, we helped watch our kids and made fleece twist-tie blankets.


Meanwhile, John and the boys were busy painting and nailing a little house. Since I was not there, I treasure these pictures.

The boys with their cousins.

The foreman of the building made special care to include the children in every aspect of the building process, to make them feel a part of the entire process. I'm still in awe.

Later that night, everyone returned to the ranch, exhausted but with smiles on their faces. Every night we got to attend chapel on the hillside...and singing with 800 of your church family members on a mountainside under the stars...there is NOTHING like it. Nothing.

Here is the little chapel we got to attend each night.

The next day was saturday, 11-11-11. I asked John if I could bring Ollie and Twain to the building site, but he said no--there was barbed wire and he thought they would get in the way. I was a little bummed, because Alisha got to take her kids on site that day...but I did not argue. We had already agreed ahead of time that I would stay behind with Ollie and Twain.

It was forecast to rain that Saturday. And we all knew it. Most people shopped ahead of time for rain boots and ponchos.

Saturday morning was still nice and so I decided to take the boys for a walk before dropping them off in childcare.

Romping about the campsite.

I was scheduled to work in daycare around noon. I trekked up that long rock path and settled in at the Hacienda for a while. My boys were the only ones there that day. By noon it was sprinkling.

It started to rain harder.

By two o'clock it was raining so hard, I could not hear anything except for rain pounding on the roof of the Hacienda. Twain and Ollie snoozed as Tangled played in the background.

I was starting to get nervous. "Are Finn and Calvin in this torrential downpour?" I wondered. Calvin had an ear infection.

I just prayed. And prayed.

While the rest of my church family was outside getting pounded by the rain, I was indoors watching Rapunzel and eating red vines. Don't judge. I really really wished I was out there suffering alongside with the rest of them. Honest. Next year John said me and the younger boys could go on site.

Around 3-ish, my friend Melisa came running up to the Hacienda "Davi!", she gasped. "Everything is flooding! All the tents are getting wet inside. Some people are leaving everything behind and evacuating! Go back to your tent and grab a few things." She then challenged me to leave everything behind for the Mexican people.

I ran down the steep rocky path in my rain boots, hair flying wildy. "I can do this!" I thought. "I can leave everything behind for the Mexican people!"

I rushed into my tent and saw water dripping down everywhere. I have always wondered what the first thing I would grab, in an emergency.

Well, turns out, it's a little porta potty. Ha.

As an afterthought, I grabbed my purse and camera and a bag of dry clothes, and ran to my car. I threw it in the car, determined to leave the rest behind.

I then saw John and the boys pull up in a van. My heart flooded with relief. Everything got crazy at that point.

My sis-in-law{bless her heart} decided to run up the hill with me to grab Ollie and Twain so we could get out of Mexico before the dirt roads flooded. Our tents were wet...we had no place to sleep that night anyway.

As we ran and huffed and puffed she told me "I gathered the kids around and we prayed it would stop raining til we got the roof on...the second we got the roof on, the rain started to pour down torrentially...our kids got to see the power of God!!!!"

We grab the boys...who are now crying...

I'm a little ashamed to admit I was ready to high-tail it out of there, without looking back. I did not want to get stuck there for days in a 3rd world disaster. I'm a bit dramatic, I know.

John started packing up the tent, much to my dismay. "Just leave it! We were challenged to leave everything!"

"Um Davi, it's not our tent and air mattress... and we borrowed that sleeping bag. It's not exactly considered generous when you are leaving everyone else's stuff behind." Teehee. He had a point. I'm such a loser:)

Our team decided to leave together and so I had to wait for everyone to pack up. The next half hour was very long. I did feel a smidge guilty for abandoning ship...We were gonna miss chapel that night. But once again, where would we sleep? Everything was all wet!

Our team was finally packed up and we circled our vehicles around, to exit through the ranch gates. We waited in a line with a few other vehicles.

It wasn't before long, we were given the halt signal: "You can't leave! The police have closed down the streets in Ensenada due to flooding and nobody is allowed to leave! You will have to sleep here tonight."

I died a little inside, ha. I was soooo ready to leave. And now we had to trek 4 wet kids up to the dining hall{aka 'the barn'} in the rain, to sleep tonight? It was just a little much to stomach. But such is life and I decided to embrace God's plan for our trip.

I really truly believe that 11-11-11 was a special day where God sent down pouring rain on our church family, to teach us what it's like to experience a little discomfort in the rain. The Mexican people have to sleep in the rain in little huts and are cold and wet all the time. We are so spoiled. And we needed to know that. And we needed to feel compassion for those that are without. And I do believe that our church body was transformed that day.

Back at the barn, people came straggling in...looking a little dazed and confused. We ate dinner and almost 800 people piled in, looking for refuge from the storm.

Our chapel that night was the most special night ever, as everyone pulled together and bonded over the events of the day.

My boys were so exhausted they could not make it through the entire service and so they crashed on piles of clothes in garbage bags. We looked like a bunch of refugees, LOL.

Laying there on the cold cement floor, with nothing but the shirts on our backs, I felt the most thankful and probably the most joyful I've ever been in my life--surrounded by my precious family and amazing church family.

People dragged in air mattresses and everyone settled in for the night in the barn. I have never heard so many different snores in all my life, none of them in sync. Everyone was up around 4 am, ready to face the day.

By some miracle the rain stopped and it was a perfectly beautiful day to travel.

We left El Refugio at 5:59 that morning and got home at 1:36 in the afternoon.

Adios literally translated means "to God". What a trip. We sure would love to go again. Ollie keeps asking when we are going back to 'Maxico" and played refugee in his closet for days. The trip made quite the impression around here!

you can roll a rolo

I have important stuff to blog about.

Like how to roll a rolo to a friend.

This ones for you katygirl...and my little sister Lindsay.

Katy and Lindsay, you can go here to complete your day. If I found my recorder/flutaphone, I would be practicing right now.

I feel so happy inside right now.

It's Alisha's and Olive Oyl's fault. They started the rolo craze at our dearest friend Angela's baby shower.

And now we are addicted. Thanks guys.

A few of you asked for photos of Angela's shower. I know half of you have already seen them if you are fb friends with Angela-- a little redundo I realize, so if you've already seen them, go sing about rolos!!!!

It was such a cozy little night I truly never wanted it to end.

Lorie and I raided our houses for warm blankets and literally just piled everything onto the deck.

Angela is decorating the baby's room in owls, so we went totally overboard on owls. She may never want to see another owl as long as she lives.

Looks like the yellow owl took a little dump on the window, hm.

Lorie made the amazing mobile to the right.

Alisha and Olive Oyl made the rolo favors(THANK YOU!) and Lish also made the fab cake.

My mind is already back on rolos.

Sing along with me, "You can roll a rolo to your pal, it's chewy chocolate covered car-a-melllll..."!

halloween for us.

Oh Halloween! This year you kind of took me by surprise.

I napped til 5 o'clock that day(it was glorious, btw) and was like "Crud! It's Halloween in an hour!"

and

"I have not made dinner yet!"

and

"Where are the boys' costumes?"

Kids starting knocking on the door for candy and I hid in my bedroom in shame while John answered the door to the trick-or-treaters. And handed them each a rollo because I forgot to buy candy.

Twain was the only one interested in getting dressed up at that point, so there are a whole slew of photos of him. I was not consciously trying to favor him over the other children, really.

Here we are getting ready.

As mentioned before, the lame target kitty{cheetah} costumes were only $5. But if you coulda only heard me squealing with giddiness. I was completely smitten by this kitten.

And then he got dressed. And I died again. Squeal. Kitty. Cute.

He's my baby. What can I say? There's just something about a kid in a costume. Kids are just cute, no matter how pathetic the costume.






And Ollie. Oh Ollie. You gave me a run for my money that night.

Remember fussing over your Joseph costume last week and saying you wanted to be a kitty?

Well, it's time to be a kitty and now you are crying hysterically that you want to be a monster. You wanted to be a silly monster with a light saber and were so so upset to be a kitty.

Too bad kid. I forced you. And you were cute.

And the next day when Halloween was over. Guess what? You wanted to be a kitty. Fickle boy.

But in all seriousness, aside from the costume aversions as of late...Ollie has been blowing me away. He has been completely pleasant lately. He was doing so well with Miss Margie in {private}speech lessons, that she graduated him. He's still in speech preschool. He has been talking up a storm. Playing well with others. I don't even know what to say I am so speechless by his overall new little self. It's like the light bulb just clicked on for him and he just gets life now.

And then there is Twain.

My word.

He has been a complete surprise package lately.

Throwing fits.

Disobedient.

But wildly hilarious.

And naked all the time. Can't forget that.

Half the time I don't know whether to laugh or cry from him. He's unlike the others and I don't know what to do with his naked little self. Streaking through the halls in my wedge heels. Running out the door naked(well, with one boot on) to the bus-stop so everyone can laugh at his antics, while his mother turns beet red.

Staying up til midnight chatting and reading his library books.

John and I just look at each other and smile. We know how fast these weeds grow up and we are just enjoying this 4th little boy of ours.

Calvin. He's not a storm trooper. He's a clone trooper. Captain Rex. I let the boys be whatever they wanted this year.

Seeing this discombobulated grouping of kitties with star wars makes me laugh.

Remember the old Davi who dressed up her kids all coordinated last year? Who was that girl? I don't know. I was super stoked to be a fairy though. And the boys loved being gnomes...even though we kinda got dubbed "the gnome family" like a bad habit that could not be dropped. You know how that goes. People still think I'm obsessed with gnomes. Which I am not. Just so ya know.

Pants are a little dirty, hm.

I think the neighbors put a sticker and tattoo on Calvin while I was napping.

Happy wild boys in their costumes.

Love the boys. Dislike their costumes. There was that last minute "oh i can make some cuter kitty costume from felt and headbands" idea...But I immediately forced myself to ignore that thought, tempting as it was. Simplifying life has been good for me and they{the children} like me better. I think. Maybe.

an alternate ending

Disclaimer. If you have never watched the movie Tangled, then do not read this post. It's a spoiler. Never mind the fact that the movie is like a year old.

Ahem. This means YOU katygirl.

I was wandering through the woods the other day and happened upon this flower.

Which in turn made me think about Rapunzel.

A lot of people did not like the way Rapunzel looked with short dark brown hair at the end of the movie. Personally, I still think she looked cute...in an anime grunge sort of way.

But I get it. They liked her long golden hair.

So.

I think I should write Disney with this alternate ending...

Eugene should have cut Rapunzel's hair below her shoulders and then Rapunzel could go and get some highlights. If she felt so inclined.

These are the things I think about at night.

little joseph

I had a horrid sinus infection for 3 weeks straight that left me completely debilitated. I basically sat on my couch and cried because I could barely watch my kids.

So that's why no blogging lately. I figured you did not want to hear about all the various shades of snot....

So I'm totally behind on life. And pretty overwhelmed by it all. I'm just kind of pathetic lately and can't seem to do much without falling apart.

But my sinuses have been much more manageable lately and I have been feeling much better, so I am so very very thankful to the Lord.

And it's a good thing, because I got better just in time to finish planning a very special baby shower. I will have to tell you more about that later.

In the meanwhile, let's talk about something else.

Tonight at Cubbies was "dress up as a bible character" night.

I just so happened to have a colorful striped button down shirt. Remember it from my Hume pics? Looks just like a coat of many colors.

Well, I put this 'coat of many colors' on Ollie, so he could be Joseph.

In case you cannot tell, he was pretty ticked about being Joseph.

In fact, he whined and complained incessantly that we was NOT Joseph and insisted that he was a kitty.

Ollie and Twain are obsessed with orange kitties. They are going to be kitties for Halloween. When I was sick as a dog with my sinus infection, I found these "kitty" costumes at Target for them.

Target did have real kitty costumes. But they were black. And my boys like orange kitties.

I figured they would not notice that they were cheetahs.

Hey.

I was sick.

And my mom once put stuffed white tights on my head as a kid and called me a bunny. Fair is fair.

Anyhow, I bribed Ollie with treats to be Joseph for the night, because I think he looked cute.

That's much better Ollie. Smiling for mama.



My sweet little Joseph.

eating my words

For the last few years, I have been using my pink flip-top razor cell phone with PRIDE.

I distinctly remember a friend once scoffing, "My 8-year old has a nicer phone than you do!"

Which made me feel even more pleased my ancient relic of a phone.

"Why, we could be in a museum!", I'd tell my phone.

Because I'm a bit of a dinosaur too, I suppose. If it were not for John, I would still be using a typewriter rather than a computer. I did not even learn to use email til I was in college, when my prof forced me to.

And texting? Oi.

My friends are lucky if they get much of a response at all from me. They will text me looooong messages, to which I'd respond with a short "ok!" or "sound good!" if I was feeling extra fancy. Because with the razor, you have to punch the button 3 or 4 times to get to the right letter.

Yet still, I defended my razor with everything in me.

Poor phone froze every time I tried to take a picture. I would just pop out the battery, put it back in, and turn the phone back on to revive it.

It would run out of batteries pretty quickly, cut out during conversations and even freeze if someone sent a message that was too high-tech, ha.

My friends would always tell me it was time to update.

Of course, I refused.

Until the other day, John resolutely informed me. "I am updating our razors to iphones. It's only $30 more per month."

"But honey", I said, "we don't need to spend our money on that! What a waste! I'm just fine with my razor".

"Ok you can keep your old razor, but I'm updating to an iphone. I am getting the new iphone 4. If you want, you can get the older iphone 3 for free."

Hm. Free? Hm...

See ya later razor!

A day or 2 later, Mr. Fed Ex man came by and made me sign for a package. "It's a phone!" he said.

"Oh." I replied and dumped the box on John's desk.

I did not open the box. I figured it was John's phone.

When John got home, he opened the box.

"Your phone is here!" he announced.

"Oh" and I went along my merry way. To myself I snickered, "Poor John. He wanted the phone much more than I did...and mine came first."

I went about my business for the rest of the day.

"Aren't you curious about your phone?" John asked, playing with it.

"Not really", I replied.

As a matter of fact, it did not even register the faintest "blip" on my radar of things of importance that day. I could not care less.

John started asking me what type of cover I wanted for my phone, as he surfed the web for options.

Sigh. Do I have to look?

"I don't care...something yellow maybe?" But the yellow was too bright. "Don't they have anything vintage?", I asked.

"You want a vintage iphone?" John mocked. Actually? Yes. Yes I did.

I settled on a pretty green-ish blue case and face-booked this remarkable landmark decision. Because that is what fb is for. And had this conversation with one of my dearest darlings.

Lisa showed me the DIY cross stitch case.

Oh me likey!

Sadly, it only works for the iphone 4.

"Honey, do you want to trade your iphone 4 for my iphone 3 so I can get this cross-stitch case?" I asked politely.

To which he politely replied, "no thank you!"

As I crawled into bed that night, John handed me my iphone, all set to the Rapunzel soundtrack.

Ahhhh. John knows me too well. I instantly perked up, as the music played.

I started pushing buttons and sliding gizmos. John even synched our calenders.

SEE? We are having Spagetti for dinner tonight!!!!!

I was 100% completely sold. {Even though Lorie previously told me how nice it was to have a calender...I immediatly shot her down, of course.}

So. To each and every one of you who tried to convince me of the iphone. I was WRONG. You were RIGHT. I am eating my words. Humble pie never tasted so delicious. I heart my new iphone. It's like a little piece of candy and it's magical. I can say without any reservation whatsoever that I never ever want to go back to my razor.

Yes, I'm fickle like that.

Kinda like how I said, "I'm not gonna cave to the Missoni conspiracy at Target! Hmph!"

But how cute is this box? So cute. I had a little gift card to Target and could not resist picking up this little number. It fits my camera perfectly.

And I cannot WAIT to get to use my iphone camera just like ya'll do when updating facebook status straight from Disneyland. If I can ever figure out something like that.

**********

And on a completely random note...Finn likes to wildly push a madly grinning Twain in this honkin' dump truck.

The other night, Finn fastened Twain with this nifty seatbelt...

Furthermore, for extra safety it has a 2-point safety harness.

Just thought I'd share.

And now, it's almost time to make some spagetti.

He really does speak.

Every Tuesday, Finn and I go to an after-school reading program on the other side of town.

For the last few weeks, we have steadily learned new names, faces and smiles.

We were starting to settle into a {somewhat}familiar routine.

Reading books with kids; helping with homework; playing games or doing crafts. One time I even got to do a Bible story of Joseph on learning to forgive. Because fights tend to break out quite a bit...usually between the alpha males in the group; little Juan cries because someone took his snack; it's always something. Always a bit unpredictable, but nonetheless par for the course.

And each Tuesday, I eagerly anticipate seeing a little girl named Brianna. She is the sweetest, happiest thing ever. We instantly clicked and she has carved out a special place in my heart.

Brianna lives with her grandma, and her mother is not part of the picture.

This just breaks my heart and I have been trying to be a part of her life, however the Lord allows.

Yesterday was gonna be the start of something special. I was granted the privilege of taking Brianna out to eat, after the program let out.

I was really excited, but cautiously so...I have learned the importance of being flexible. Plans tend to change on a dime round these parts. Last week I was supposed to go to her house, but Grandma changed her mind at the last minute, because she was embarrassed of her house. Brianna was crushed.

But I trusted God's hand. If it was meant to be...it would happen.

Anyhow, we were all at the reading program and the day was humming along...Juan was crying over a granola bar...my mom even came with me and was busy whipping a bunch of jr high boys into shape...when all of a sudden, two new girls walked through the front door.

They were pushing a baby in a stroller. This was a common sight. Little girls around this neighborhood FREQUENTLY watch their baby brothers and sisters, and tote them around wherever they go.

A baby bottle full of red punch dropped to the floor.

"Honey, is this your baby brother?", we asked.

The smaller of the two girls looked down nervously and quietly said "It's my baby".

We were all kind of shocked. She looked so young. And small. And tiny. Much too young to be a mother.

We looked at the birth date on her paperwork. She was 13. Her baby was one. Do the math. It was extremely probable. But still so surprising. She looked like she was only 11! I noticed she was small everywhere but had a little pouch for a belly. It finally hit us. She was indeed the mama.

I grabbed her baby boy out of the stroller, determined to give this young mama a break from the responsibility of a baby for a spell. Her baby boy has the biggest brown eyes and the cutest mop of curls spilling down his forehead.

I placed the baby on my hip and walked around for a bit.

It was not long before I noticed that my hip was soaking wet.

"Do you have a diaper?" I asked the young mom.

"Uh...no..." she stammered, as she looked through her stroller.

I asked my friend Heather for a diaper and she rushed out to her car to get some diapers and wipes.

After finding a decent spot to change a diaper, I plopped the baby on a table and helped the girls with the sopping wet diaper.

Much to my shock, the baby has a massive umbilical hernia. And a poopy diaper that looked like it had not been changed in quite a while.

By now I am fighting back tears. This was overwhelming.

The diaper got out of control as we fumbled and fussed our way through it. By the end, there was poop and pee everywhere, and I quickly rushed the diaper to the trash and washed my hands.

By now my head is spinning. My simple Tuesday was turning quite complex as I pondered the gravity of the situation.

A little girl taking care of a baby.

Baby boy happily walked around the place, barefoot. Completely oblivious.

We asked the tiny mama a bazillion questions. What size shoe? Do you need diapers? What size clothes?

Even though we want to help this girl desperately, we can only help her if she wants help. Only time will tell if she returns. I hope so.

But.

Even though the baby drinks cool-aid,

And walks around in dirty clothes and diapers,

He looked healthy as a horse. She somehow has gotten thus far without us and will not shrivel up and die without us.

But it sure put a huge burden on my heart for the entire day, and I could hardly focus.

Afterward the reading program let out, I got to take Brianna out to MacDonald's. We had a BLAST. She is such a happy bubbly girl considering her situation. I truly wish I could give her the world. But I must not make her grandma feel completely inept.

When I got home, I gave tweetle beetle a huge hug. He is so chubby and happy and I could not help but feel so grateful to be able to raise him proper-like.

As I brushed my teeth at night, something hit me.

I am doing a Bible Study called "Discerning the Voice of God". The basic premise of the study is that God will speak to us if we listen.

And it dawned on me. Just a few days earlier, I had asked the Lord a question. I had just watched a documentary called 180, which was circling the web. It seeks to make people think, regarding the fate of the unborn in our country. I had asked/begged the Lord what exactly he would like me to do regarding this bleak situation. I really had no idea how he would answer me. I just waited.

And I truly believe that he answered me: "Help take care of this young 'unfit' mama and her baby boy, in whatever way you can...if she will take the help."

It was that simple.

I was amazed that God answered so clearly. He really does speak.