Posts
I've not been a great blogger the last couple of weeks - I didn't even realize it had been so long til right now when I looked at my last post... well, the last two weeks have been anything but boring. I feel so blessed to be an active part of what God is doing.
I was just reminded of this verse on one of my student's blogs -
John 10:10, "I came that they might have life and have it more abundantly."
These are Jesus' words. I clearly am "they" and realize that this pretty much sums up my life and the way I embrace it. That's the reason it resonated with me so strongly when I came across it. I guess I'm not one to capture complacency very well or sit on the sidelines and think about the things I wish I had gone after. I don't ever want to be accused (even if its just me doing the accusing) of not doing something God invited me to participate in because I didn't have the means right in front of me. I don't ever want fear to paralyze me into staying in my comfort zone and miss out on the wild ride that God promises if I step out believing that He'll lead and forage the way.
I guess it reminds me of riding a roller coaster that I've never been on before. You know the kind - where you can't see what's over that ginormous mountain you're ascending or on the other side of the corkscrew, but when you're falling, you've never felt more alive (maybe cuz you've never felt closer to dying!) and at the end , arriving safely at the dock, feeling exhilarated, relieved, maybe a little sick and wishing you could do it again and again (at least when you're my kids' ages).
Figuratively speaking, I don't ever want to be the old person (this is definitely up to interpretation as some of my kids' friends never wanted to go on the roller coaster & I remember my mom who was younger than I am now watching us go. But there's a reason we don't see many senior citizens running from ride to ride - well, except for that wacko old guy on the Great America commercials...) who watches every one else go on the rides.
OK, so maybe my body doesn't like them as much as it used to, but I find it way too easy to go down that virtual road of "sitting this one out" as time goes on if I don't remind myself of what could be.
You know how some people are addicted to the adrenaline rush - like my nephew who's an amazing snow boarder and doesn't care if he breaks a thousand bones in the process - I'm addicted to the rush of when I'm a part of something greater. Something that only God can do. Something I can't do on my own. Something I don't have the natural means for. I see Him accomplish jaw-dropping things and in some little way, I was a part of it - along for the ride.
I know that somewhere on the way I may throw-up a time or two at the sheer velocity or stomach-dropping cliff I've fallen down at breakneck speed. But I have absolute confidence that I'm on the track and I can't fall off as long as I keep that super heavy shoulder harness on. The one that gives you the freedom to throw your hands in the air, scream along the way and trust that somehow you're going to make it to the end. This seems to be the Word of God and I find myself clutching it through every turn and cliff.
Jesus said, "If you remain in Me and My words remain in you, you can ask whatever you wish and it will be given you." - John 15:7. It's a constant thing. Not something you can choose to look at once in a while. Well, you can, but you're in danger of falling off the ride and missing out on God's track with the safety devices in place.
I'm so fortunate, blessed, grateful... to have a husband who wants to get on the ride with me.
This is huge as to why we're adopting. So much common sense says that we should sit out this ride and we get that. Yet, when God offered the invitation to get on the ride, we found we just had to go. Of course, we had the choice - God pretty consistently gives us that option - but every ride He's taken us on up to this point has been more than we could have anticipated. How could we miss out on this one?
Rascal Flatts has a great song that talks about this...
See you on the roller coaster -
TrueMom
Monday, February 23, 2009
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Bad News/Good News
How to begin... this is the end of a somewhat frantic, at times nail-biting, completely humbling and glorious week. As I consider the "week in review" (to speak the language of a late night talk show, or perhaps more correctly, your favorite cable news channel) I'm a little in awe that so much has happened in 6 days. Of course, that's all it took for God to create the world and everything in it... I guess He can handle the issues in my life :).
How many of you when asked if you'd like to hear the good news or bad news first, choose the good news? Honestly, I never quite understood that, because who wants to end on a sad note? Well, I guess that would be all of you who chose the good news first... Since it's my blog, I get to choose (and if you'd rather have it your way, you can skip a few paragraphs and come back to this at the end) ...
Yesterday, I lost my son. For a total of 42 minutes he was missing. It was an eternity.
Honestly, I thought I was past that whole worrying thing when you go places in your mind as you realize your child is not where he's supposed to be. You know the drill - kidnapping, torture, accident... need I go on? For real, I get sick even thinking about yesterday. But really, he's 13 and able to take care of himself... uh... yeah, right! (We must here take into consideration that upon recently entering the teenage years, he has officialy lost his brain and I'm told, as well as personally experienced with other children close to me that will remain unnamed, that he's not due to get it back until about age 25.)I'm his mom and I believe it's well within my rights and quite possibly, my duty, to worry for him.
It all started at 2:38, when I had finished a rehearsal at school and realized that I had time to make some copies before leaving to pick up C.J.. Upon reaching the studio, I happened to glance up at the clock on the wall and thought maybe I was seeing things. It now said 3:40. I checked with another nearby clock and darn-it-all, it said the same thing. I immediately struggled with the sick lump rising in my throat as I realized that the first clock I looked at in the rehearsal hall couldn't have been right - or could I possibly have read it wrong??
Okay, I know, mom's aren't supposed to do that. Aren't we always aware of exactly what the time is if it involves our children... even in another time zone?!? C.J. normally gets out at 3:15 and we meet on the corner. This is one of my favorite times of day - watching him walk towards the car and finding out how his day was. We don't always get past the "normal" or "boring" response right away, but I love catching up, even on his terms.
I missed that yesterday, and after talking with TrueDad, realized that he didn't get that privilege either as C.J. certainly wasn't with him. As I ran down all the options I could think of and called all the friends I knew of in trying to track him down my panic level began to rise. At this point, we called in the calvary and pulled out all the stops (besides commandeering the police car that passed me by - but I was really close and it was next on my list) in our attempt to find him. My mom & dad, Sissy and I drove in separate cars everywhere we could think of, stopping in his favorite after-school haunts (this is with prior permission, of course), such as Starbucks, Subway and even SavMart. Have you ever tried looking for someone in a grocery store? I've always thought that one could be looking for the other one forever and still never find each other... we circle the aisles moving in opposite directions, always just on the other side of the aisle that the other person's on... Because of that I went in the same store more than once. I also accosted a large group of unsuspecting Jr. Higher's in the parking lot and I'm sure you know how very unapproachable they can try to be. Thankfully, these ones didn't manage to scare me too much, being the former Supermom that I was (I offically lost that status upon not being there for my son at pick-up - never-mind that I lose this status continually for several other reasons only known to other former Supermoms) on a True mission. Unfortunately, even being the all-knowing Jr. Highers that all Jr. Highers are (they're not told about the whole losing-the-brain-issue upon first entering the teenage years), they didn't have a clue where C.J. was either.
The call came at 4:22. It was Sissy saying, "You do know we found C.J., right?" I have to admit that this was said rather casually as they thought that, of course someone would have told me. He had decided to walk home (it's a good couple of miles uphill) after realizing he'd been momentarily abandoned. I had already driven both of the options one could take to get to our home with no luck. I hadn't considered the walking trails, however... Unfortunately for him, he had and ended up getting a little lost. His anxiety upon realizing that he wasn't in our neighborhood receded somewhat as he realized that he was lost in the neighboring retirement community! If you've got to be lost somewhere, that's probably a pretty safe bet... it was here that he was picked up by Sissy.
I immediately rushed straight home, asked Sissy where C.J. was, and went right upstairs to hold him for awhile. It didn't matter that he is 13. We both felt such an immense sense of relief. We just sat close on the couch for a bit and talked it out. We came up with a great plan if, God-forbid, anything were to happen like that again and decided that yes, bringing the cell phone with you to school is a priority! This really was why he had been given a phone - so we could stay in touch with each other as needed (even though he thinks that its to maintain that texting IV to each and every one of his friends throughout the day - LOL).
When the shock first hit that I really didn't know where he was, an overwhelming feeling of love struck as well. I knew that C.J. was irreplaceable. So special in his own right, and nothing could fill the chasm that would be left if anything really were to happen to him. Not Guy or Sissy, or any future children - biological or adopted. There is not another C.J.. I feel this way passionately about each one of my kids.
I was given a true gift yesterday - a glimpse of how God views us, either when we're right next to Him or when we've chosen to go our own way. I am not just one of a number of children that God has. I am His daughter and, in His eyes - irreplaceable. Made in His image, yet with my own idiosyncracies - and He knows each and every one!
How He must feel when, like the prodigal son, we choose to make our own path, deviating off the road and out of His protective care. I know He doesn't rest when one of us leaves His fold, but pulls out all the stops to go searching for His missing one. While He is God and knows where we are, He also knows just how lost we really are when we're not in sync with Him. What lengths He must go to in His attempt to bring us home where He can love us and care for us and enjoy us in all our idiosyncracies.
I wonder how many of us are afraid to come home because we're not too sure of the response we'll get, when what I really imagine He wants to do is throw His arms around us and just be with us?! When the father saw the prodigal son way off in the distance, he didn't sit passively waiting for him to arrive. No, really He didn't. He actually ran to meet him, demonstrating how passionate he was about seeing him. God knows what habits and issues we need to let go of. He knows the right timing to help us confront them. He also knows that it's only in the safety of His arms that we'll be able to face those and release them once and for all.
So, in reality, my bad news is quite good news, after all. My son, who was lost, is now found and my home is once again on its way to being complete.
Now if we could just get our precious Ethiopian babies home...
About that... some more good news...
Our home study was officially approved by our social worker and our placement agency, Children's House International, Friday, Jan. 30th and Tuesday, Feb. 3, respectively. Our home study approves us to adopt 2-3 children under the age of 7. It was then sent off to the U.S. Department of Immigration so they could move forward in approving our I171H - the paperwork stating that the U.S. government considers us to be suitable adoptive parents. We now began the wait to receive our fingerprinting appointment. Yes, once again, we get to be fingerprinted. After all, once, twice, no, three times is just not enough! It seems every agency needs their own reassurance that you didn't just recently rob the neighborhood bank (although some may contemplate it when paying the monies involved for an adoption ;)) or take up flashing, as I wrote about earlier.
We received the official referral of our two siblings waiting in Ethiopia on Wednesday, Feb. 4! This was the same day that AWOP's director was traveling to ET bringing our packages and several others to the kids at the orphanages. This means that she can give them to the kids, tell them that they're from their new family waiting to bring them home, and get pictures of them receiving the gifts and photo albums.
I must admit, it's been rather comical to look at the completely blank looks on my family and friend's faces when I tell them excitedly that we got the referral. I know they're thinking... "and so?" Or perhaps, "Referred you for what?!" A referral, in the world of adoption, is an official assignment that will go to the Ethiopian government, upon our acceptance (since we have to have it notarized, we're doing that Monday) signaling that these precious two orphans have been assigned and chosen to be adopted by the True family. In the world of adoption, getting a referral is a HUGE thing. Adoptive parents can sometimes wait several months to years to receive a referral of a particular child. It's not because there are a lack of orphans by any means, but a whole host of other factors slowing down the adoption pipeline. Consider the fact that there are only so many spots in any one orphanage and as the paperwork has typically been taking longer to get an Ethiopian adoption completed, there are less spots for new orphans to enter the orphanage. That's only one reason of many as to why people might have to wait for a referral. This does not hold true, however for a child already waiting in an orphanage, as ours were, without a family to claim them and call them their own.
Have I mentioned yet that getting the mail around our house these days is something I look forward to like a kid looks forward to Christmas? Okay, maybe not Christmas, but definitely a school holiday. Christmas will be passing our court date... What new form, letter, approval will I get that I've been anxiously waiting for? Today, it was our fingerprinting appointment letter! Our appointment is set for Valentine's Day (this might just be TrueDad's and my big date although we'll be sharing it with Guy, since he's over 18 and must be fingerprinted, yet again, as well) early in the morning. They kind of make it sound like you can come on a different day at the same time and not have it be a problem. We're going to try this coming Tuesday morning...
We also found out this week that the orphanage the kids are at is moving into the city. This will be a huge move for all involved. The good news is that with the famine, it's been increasingly difficult to get adequate food and supplies into their current orphanage, several hours outside of the city. The facility they're moving to looks quite nice by ET standards and should be a much better situation.
Please pray for our beautiful babies during this transition. There are a couple of concerns I'm not free to talk about, but God knows what they are and we've experienced firsthand the amazing ways He moves when His people pray!
And now to close (I know... finally...) I admit, it's becoming harder and harder to keep an emotional arm's distance from these little, innocent ones. With the referral, we received another picture of each of them when they were first brought in to the orphanage. I can't begin to tell you how their eyes pierce right through me, melting my heart, calling up my protective instincts as God prepares me to be their mother. They're not ours until we pass court and yes, something could happen so that they don't become ours. But I find that I can't dwell in that alternate reality.
God is preparing our entire family to bring these babies into our fold. Now that we've chosen them, we have officially begun fighting for them and won't stop until that privilege is taken away. After all, if not us, who? Who will fight for these children? Who will wipe away their tears, show them how to tie their shoelaces, pray with them at night and hold them when they may feel lost and never let go? Lord, let it be me...
How many of you when asked if you'd like to hear the good news or bad news first, choose the good news? Honestly, I never quite understood that, because who wants to end on a sad note? Well, I guess that would be all of you who chose the good news first... Since it's my blog, I get to choose (and if you'd rather have it your way, you can skip a few paragraphs and come back to this at the end) ...
Yesterday, I lost my son. For a total of 42 minutes he was missing. It was an eternity.
Honestly, I thought I was past that whole worrying thing when you go places in your mind as you realize your child is not where he's supposed to be. You know the drill - kidnapping, torture, accident... need I go on? For real, I get sick even thinking about yesterday. But really, he's 13 and able to take care of himself... uh... yeah, right! (We must here take into consideration that upon recently entering the teenage years, he has officialy lost his brain and I'm told, as well as personally experienced with other children close to me that will remain unnamed, that he's not due to get it back until about age 25.)I'm his mom and I believe it's well within my rights and quite possibly, my duty, to worry for him.
It all started at 2:38, when I had finished a rehearsal at school and realized that I had time to make some copies before leaving to pick up C.J.. Upon reaching the studio, I happened to glance up at the clock on the wall and thought maybe I was seeing things. It now said 3:40. I checked with another nearby clock and darn-it-all, it said the same thing. I immediately struggled with the sick lump rising in my throat as I realized that the first clock I looked at in the rehearsal hall couldn't have been right - or could I possibly have read it wrong??
Okay, I know, mom's aren't supposed to do that. Aren't we always aware of exactly what the time is if it involves our children... even in another time zone?!? C.J. normally gets out at 3:15 and we meet on the corner. This is one of my favorite times of day - watching him walk towards the car and finding out how his day was. We don't always get past the "normal" or "boring" response right away, but I love catching up, even on his terms.
I missed that yesterday, and after talking with TrueDad, realized that he didn't get that privilege either as C.J. certainly wasn't with him. As I ran down all the options I could think of and called all the friends I knew of in trying to track him down my panic level began to rise. At this point, we called in the calvary and pulled out all the stops (besides commandeering the police car that passed me by - but I was really close and it was next on my list) in our attempt to find him. My mom & dad, Sissy and I drove in separate cars everywhere we could think of, stopping in his favorite after-school haunts (this is with prior permission, of course), such as Starbucks, Subway and even SavMart. Have you ever tried looking for someone in a grocery store? I've always thought that one could be looking for the other one forever and still never find each other... we circle the aisles moving in opposite directions, always just on the other side of the aisle that the other person's on... Because of that I went in the same store more than once. I also accosted a large group of unsuspecting Jr. Higher's in the parking lot and I'm sure you know how very unapproachable they can try to be. Thankfully, these ones didn't manage to scare me too much, being the former Supermom that I was (I offically lost that status upon not being there for my son at pick-up - never-mind that I lose this status continually for several other reasons only known to other former Supermoms) on a True mission. Unfortunately, even being the all-knowing Jr. Highers that all Jr. Highers are (they're not told about the whole losing-the-brain-issue upon first entering the teenage years), they didn't have a clue where C.J. was either.
The call came at 4:22. It was Sissy saying, "You do know we found C.J., right?" I have to admit that this was said rather casually as they thought that, of course someone would have told me. He had decided to walk home (it's a good couple of miles uphill) after realizing he'd been momentarily abandoned. I had already driven both of the options one could take to get to our home with no luck. I hadn't considered the walking trails, however... Unfortunately for him, he had and ended up getting a little lost. His anxiety upon realizing that he wasn't in our neighborhood receded somewhat as he realized that he was lost in the neighboring retirement community! If you've got to be lost somewhere, that's probably a pretty safe bet... it was here that he was picked up by Sissy.
I immediately rushed straight home, asked Sissy where C.J. was, and went right upstairs to hold him for awhile. It didn't matter that he is 13. We both felt such an immense sense of relief. We just sat close on the couch for a bit and talked it out. We came up with a great plan if, God-forbid, anything were to happen like that again and decided that yes, bringing the cell phone with you to school is a priority! This really was why he had been given a phone - so we could stay in touch with each other as needed (even though he thinks that its to maintain that texting IV to each and every one of his friends throughout the day - LOL).
When the shock first hit that I really didn't know where he was, an overwhelming feeling of love struck as well. I knew that C.J. was irreplaceable. So special in his own right, and nothing could fill the chasm that would be left if anything really were to happen to him. Not Guy or Sissy, or any future children - biological or adopted. There is not another C.J.. I feel this way passionately about each one of my kids.
I was given a true gift yesterday - a glimpse of how God views us, either when we're right next to Him or when we've chosen to go our own way. I am not just one of a number of children that God has. I am His daughter and, in His eyes - irreplaceable. Made in His image, yet with my own idiosyncracies - and He knows each and every one!
How He must feel when, like the prodigal son, we choose to make our own path, deviating off the road and out of His protective care. I know He doesn't rest when one of us leaves His fold, but pulls out all the stops to go searching for His missing one. While He is God and knows where we are, He also knows just how lost we really are when we're not in sync with Him. What lengths He must go to in His attempt to bring us home where He can love us and care for us and enjoy us in all our idiosyncracies.
I wonder how many of us are afraid to come home because we're not too sure of the response we'll get, when what I really imagine He wants to do is throw His arms around us and just be with us?! When the father saw the prodigal son way off in the distance, he didn't sit passively waiting for him to arrive. No, really He didn't. He actually ran to meet him, demonstrating how passionate he was about seeing him. God knows what habits and issues we need to let go of. He knows the right timing to help us confront them. He also knows that it's only in the safety of His arms that we'll be able to face those and release them once and for all.
So, in reality, my bad news is quite good news, after all. My son, who was lost, is now found and my home is once again on its way to being complete.
Now if we could just get our precious Ethiopian babies home...
About that... some more good news...
Our home study was officially approved by our social worker and our placement agency, Children's House International, Friday, Jan. 30th and Tuesday, Feb. 3, respectively. Our home study approves us to adopt 2-3 children under the age of 7. It was then sent off to the U.S. Department of Immigration so they could move forward in approving our I171H - the paperwork stating that the U.S. government considers us to be suitable adoptive parents. We now began the wait to receive our fingerprinting appointment. Yes, once again, we get to be fingerprinted. After all, once, twice, no, three times is just not enough! It seems every agency needs their own reassurance that you didn't just recently rob the neighborhood bank (although some may contemplate it when paying the monies involved for an adoption ;)) or take up flashing, as I wrote about earlier.
We received the official referral of our two siblings waiting in Ethiopia on Wednesday, Feb. 4! This was the same day that AWOP's director was traveling to ET bringing our packages and several others to the kids at the orphanages. This means that she can give them to the kids, tell them that they're from their new family waiting to bring them home, and get pictures of them receiving the gifts and photo albums.
I must admit, it's been rather comical to look at the completely blank looks on my family and friend's faces when I tell them excitedly that we got the referral. I know they're thinking... "and so?" Or perhaps, "Referred you for what?!" A referral, in the world of adoption, is an official assignment that will go to the Ethiopian government, upon our acceptance (since we have to have it notarized, we're doing that Monday) signaling that these precious two orphans have been assigned and chosen to be adopted by the True family. In the world of adoption, getting a referral is a HUGE thing. Adoptive parents can sometimes wait several months to years to receive a referral of a particular child. It's not because there are a lack of orphans by any means, but a whole host of other factors slowing down the adoption pipeline. Consider the fact that there are only so many spots in any one orphanage and as the paperwork has typically been taking longer to get an Ethiopian adoption completed, there are less spots for new orphans to enter the orphanage. That's only one reason of many as to why people might have to wait for a referral. This does not hold true, however for a child already waiting in an orphanage, as ours were, without a family to claim them and call them their own.
Have I mentioned yet that getting the mail around our house these days is something I look forward to like a kid looks forward to Christmas? Okay, maybe not Christmas, but definitely a school holiday. Christmas will be passing our court date... What new form, letter, approval will I get that I've been anxiously waiting for? Today, it was our fingerprinting appointment letter! Our appointment is set for Valentine's Day (this might just be TrueDad's and my big date although we'll be sharing it with Guy, since he's over 18 and must be fingerprinted, yet again, as well) early in the morning. They kind of make it sound like you can come on a different day at the same time and not have it be a problem. We're going to try this coming Tuesday morning...
We also found out this week that the orphanage the kids are at is moving into the city. This will be a huge move for all involved. The good news is that with the famine, it's been increasingly difficult to get adequate food and supplies into their current orphanage, several hours outside of the city. The facility they're moving to looks quite nice by ET standards and should be a much better situation.
Please pray for our beautiful babies during this transition. There are a couple of concerns I'm not free to talk about, but God knows what they are and we've experienced firsthand the amazing ways He moves when His people pray!
And now to close (I know... finally...) I admit, it's becoming harder and harder to keep an emotional arm's distance from these little, innocent ones. With the referral, we received another picture of each of them when they were first brought in to the orphanage. I can't begin to tell you how their eyes pierce right through me, melting my heart, calling up my protective instincts as God prepares me to be their mother. They're not ours until we pass court and yes, something could happen so that they don't become ours. But I find that I can't dwell in that alternate reality.
God is preparing our entire family to bring these babies into our fold. Now that we've chosen them, we have officially begun fighting for them and won't stop until that privilege is taken away. After all, if not us, who? Who will fight for these children? Who will wipe away their tears, show them how to tie their shoelaces, pray with them at night and hold them when they may feel lost and never let go? Lord, let it be me...
Monday, February 2, 2009
Amazima Ministries
I just found this amazing and beautiful woman's blog and ministry in Uganda. She is truly demonstrating what it means to be His hands and feet. I promise this will not leave you unaffected, but will leave you more than a little humbled...
http://kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com/
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Yeah, it's Superbowl.
Can you tell from my writing that my reverence for the game is slightly non-existent? Today, we have a group of youth over from our church and our home is filled with bursts of gut-laughs and whoops. Mostly during the breaks - yes, the commercials are inarguably one of the best parts of this American tradition - and during the card game going on with the ones who don't care about the game.
As I think about what's going on in with our family this Superbowl it causes me to look back and consider years gone by with other memorable Superbowl get-togethers. They seem to mark distinctive periods in our lives...
There was the year I was a freshman at Stanford University and they were hosting the Superbowl at their stadium. My friends and I were so pumped to go down and hang out around the excitement. I don't remember seeing any of the game on TV, nor did I see it live, but I had a great view of the outside of the stadium and the craziness before and after...
Then there was the game that our oldest son, Guy, was 13 months old and we had friends and family over - the first President Bush was in the white house. We had a magazine with his picture on the cover and Guy pointed to it and said, "Wook, George Bush!" I never did figure out how he knew that...
One year, TrueDad and I spent the Superbowl on an airplane back from Texas coming back from a church conference. We arrived just as the game ended at our friend's house, who had been watching our three kids for several days. I'm not sure if I asked who won, or who played for that matter.
Then there was the game following 9/11. I can remember watching the half-time show where the names of everyone lost in that tragedy scrolled down the screen. The names seemed to go on forever.
This year, as I listen to the sweet chaos fill my home, I recognize that I'm on the verge of inviting that chaos on a regular basis as we bring in a 3 and 1 year old permanently into our home! The games mark changes in our family's lives and they've also marked changes in me, personally, That first game we had people over, I know I cleaned like mad so if any guests needed to lick their dip off of the floor they could. Now, in my infinite wisdom as a mom, my cleaning strategy included having my oldest vacuum two days ago, and the other two tackling their cleaning chores after the game is over!
I've definitely become more easy-going as the years have gone by. I find myself more than ever just enjoying having friends and family in one place and knowing that they're having a blast with each other. Right now as I write this, 8 boys are enjoying their youth or re-living their youth (I'm just hopeful that my husband doesn't kill himself winning the title) as they re-enact plays they've seen on the screen, several girls are watching the boys, a few are playing cards and two are kind of watching the game. Even if the game's a bust, maybe I do like the Superbowl after all... well, I'm off to join in the fun (not to worry, I'm thinking about the cards or the girls watching the boys, not the game with the football on the street...)
Happy Superbowl to you all!
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