the kids,  travel

the quiet week and camp pick-up.

David and I arrived home from Mexico at midnight Monday (well, technically Tuesday). The three boys didn’t come home from camp until Saturday. Which meant the three of us had a very quiet five days at home without them. It’s the first time I went two weeks without my three boys since Gabe and Noah’s adoption, eight years ago, and it felt so strange to me that it prompted some reflection.

 

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The most surprising thing of all is that I wrote a blog post every single day. Oh my goodness, I had so much mental space! Amie and I finally finished painting my hall built-in bookcase. Do you know how long that project has been waiting? Six years. Six whole years, ever since our bedroom addition was completed.

 

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Between the blog and the bookcase, I had a light bulb moment: so that’s where all my inspiration and energy have gone! Into raising four children.

Actually it was an enormous relief. I’m prone to think I’m lazy or unmotivated when it comes to extra projects. But the reality is that my time and my brain are just perpetually full of daily life in our family — grocery shopping and cooking meals and laundry and house cleaning and doctor’s appointments and homeschooling and driving kids hither and thither, not to mention actually spending time with them and talking to them about their life. It feels hard to find time for extras.

 

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We had an amazing, unhurried week spoiling Amie and easing back into normal life. Actually, it was the best re-rentry from a vacation I’ve ever experienced.

And then, when we were caught up on sleep and the blog and projects it felt . . . quiet. Dare I say boring? We missed our boys. Once we got their letters in the mail I just miss all three of them so much it hurt. I was dying to cuddle Gabe and Noah close again (sadly Judah’s cuddling days are over but he does give me hugs), even at 6:30 am when I’m trying to read my Bible. I actually missed the endless questions and interruptions. I missed all their voices around the house. Amie desperately missed her brothers. It was good for her to realize how rich they make her life — even when they bug her.

 

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Yes, I’m vastly more composed, energized, and patient without four kids. Yes I can write so much more. Read more. Work on my house more.

But that’s not the life I want.

Plus let’s be honest, is it really true patience if it’s never challenged?

 

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And so, we were delighted when David and Amie could finally hit the road early Saturday morning for the Blue Ridge mountains to get our boys. I was torn between going along and also having the entire house to myself for 8 hours. That happens, like, never. So I chose to stay behind and it was glorious. But those last couple hours I was just so ready to be with my people. Kira was too.

 

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David and Amie arrived at camp pick-up at 9:45, loading the boys’ three huge plastic bins in the van, and had a joyful reunion.

 

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They said all three of them looked so happy. That delighted my heart. I won’t lie, I was worried about Gabe and Noah. I didn’t want to be apart from them for two weeks. It was especially hard sending them when they didn’t know anyone their age at Deerfoot. I was worried they’d be homesick, have trouble with friends, wish they hadn’t gone.

 

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But I needn’t have worried a bit. God answered all our prayers and then some. They both thrived there. In fact, Judah told me he checked in with Gabe’s counselor (they’re called “chiefs” at Deerfoot), asking, “Is Gabe doing okay? He can be kind of shy.” And his chief said, “Gabe? Shy? No way. He’s doing awesome!”

 

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This was Judah’s third year and his favorite yet. I’m trying to get an interview on the blog with him to share more. We’ll see! But his major accomplishment (if you’ve seen David’s FB), was hiking a 46-mile section of the Appalachian Trail. That was the first time a group of Mountaineers (his 15-16 year old age group) has ever done that in Deerfoot history. I am so thankful I didn’t know that they were attempting it. And I’m thrilled they did!

 

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It was a perfect homecoming at 3:30 Saturday when they all arrived, sweaty and sticky and suntanned, with more piles of dirty laundry than I could count and sand spilling out of every wrinkle and crevice. I did not even care. I was overjoyed to have my family back together. We caught up on all.the.things, ate generous slices Amie and David’s incredible welcome home cake, then later in the evening when we were exhausted from talking, kicked back to start Season 9 of Alone. It felt like a very appropriate show after the boys’ wilderness experiences.

In the days since then, I’ve soaked in the feeling of normal.

And I’ve also been reminded that it’s hard breaking up sibling arguments, reminding people to pick up their things, being interrupted from this blog post like 20 times, giving up free time to do whatever I want. At the end of the day the best word to describe my frame of mind is “over-stimulated.” So much noise and so many things to remember. But I wouldn’t trade this life for anything. It’s a gift, it really is. My life is rich with people, which is exactly what I want it to be. And most miraculous of all, God is teaching me patience in the midst of it. Real patience.

Bring on the last month of summer!

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