From This Day Forward

Oh, this day.

This glorious, blustery, feeling-rattling, perfect day.

Weddings, by definition and act, are triumphs of faith and hope, of love and family. And this one, this day, shone bright with all of that, and so much more.

Not so very long ago, our amazing daughter was forced to walk through a very dark and trying time. She lost someone she loved and it was heartbreaking for her and all of us who cherish her. But Cearra was brave and strong. She didn't grow bitter; she didn't shutter her heart, nor limit her dreams. She chose to believe. And when the time was right, the man who now makes her smile sparkle, who honors her and loves her without limits, walked into her life.  

Yes, weddings are expressions of faith and hope; of love and family. And on this day, Cearra and Tim shared all of that with all of us, in many ways.

It began at the rehearsal dinner, a rollicking event generously hosted by Tim’s dad and his new bride Vicki. Cearra and Tim showed their thoughtfulness in a playful way, serving four delicious cakes – one each to acknowledge and celebrate my dad’s birthday, Tim’s aunt’s birthday, Tim’s brother and wife’s anniversary (all that very day), and mine and Bob’s anniversary (the day before).   

The wedding party was joyfully chosen by the bride and groom and made up of brothers and sisters, plus nieces and nephews who added more than a touch of whimsy and wiggles. Add old pals and new friends also proud to stand and smile through the windy gusts and chilly weather as they will stand by Tim and Cearra in their married life.

Tim and his family recently suffered the all too soon passing of a beloved uncle. In his honor, Tim and Cearra invited his son to be an usher and his daughter to read "Desiderata" during the ceremony. Upholding a Nocera family tradition, they had an "apron" dance during the reception, and the new Mr. and Mrs. will be donating all the collected money to the Maryland Greenbaum Cancer Center in Jay’s honor.

Most of all, the moment we are all still talking about … as Bob walked Cearra down the aisle, they stopped beside her uncle Todd’s chair and Cearra reached out her hand. She took his arm and said “I love you”.

In Todd’s own words:

My heart is overflowing, my cup runneth over! Today I experienced the depth of sacrifice and the fullness of love. Knowing that because of Hannah's disabilities I would never get to walk her down the aisle, Cearra and Bob surprised me and allowed me to take Cearra's arm and accompany them the rest of the way to the altar. I'm overwhelmed that Cearra would love me enough to think to do that, and that Bob would allow me to have a part in a moment that was deservedly his and his alone. I feel like I could live a thousand years and never in that amount of time be blessed the way I was today.

If you can still see through the tears in your eyes, please enjoy the pictures I’ve gathered from both the professional photographer and those posted by friends and family.

Everything about the ceremony and reception was spectacular. The location, Wyndridge Farms, was stunning. The flowers and décor, all the little special touches created by Cearra and by Le Anne, the music and dancing and food and drinks – all were fantastic. The bridesmaids were beautiful and the groomsmen good-looking, and as I think you’ll agree, the bride was breathtakingly gorgeous, the groom so handsome.

But on this day, the most memorable, wonderful things of all were these: faith and hope; love and family.

  

      

In Praise of Spit

We talk a lot, in the international adoption world, of both the joys we've found in being parents and the unique situations we may face. Two such issues on our journey center around helping our children understand themselves, their identity, what makes them, well, "them".

The first is a practical, yet important matter. And I admit it's one that punches me in the gut a little every time I encounter it - medical forms. Each time Owen sees a new doctor or has any procedures done, now and most likely for the rest of his life, a lot of spaces on it will be left blank. We just don't know if there's a family history of high blood pressure, or cancer, or heart disease. If there's a predisposition to diabetes or alcoholism. No, it's not the worst thing in the world, but it would be nice - for him, for us, for his doctors - to know.

The other challenge is perhaps even more central to our children's well-being and sense of self. Most of us grow up hearing about, and taking pride in, the rich cultural history of our family. I've always known both my mom and dad's families hail primarily from Germany. I grew up with a framed genealogy (written in German) on the dining room wall; I know about German food, German Christmas customs, and German fairy tales. Bob believes his ancestors trace back to England and Wales. Obviously, as an adoptive family, these genetic backgrounds don't work for us as we talk to Owen about his roots.

Owen's birth mother, in the hospital forms she filled out, identified herself and his biological father as Kazakh. Our in-country facilitators separately volunteered that Owen was "100% Kazakh". And so that's what we've taught him, sharing the Kazakh culture with him, visiting the Kazakh embassy, and being always on the look out for anything related to Kazakhstan. I've always been able to see Asian features dancing across his face - those gorgeous almond eyes, the low profile of his nose. And yet, we've wondered, as we try to answer his questions and talk about his ethnicity, if there was more in the mix that created our beautiful boy; after all, Kazakhstan is smack dab in the middle of the famed Silk Road and was for many years part of the USSR.

So here's where a little spit - and science - step in. We finally went ahead and bought a 23andMe kit at Target in mid-July, had Owen spit into the little test tube container, and shipped it off. He was excited, we were excited, and last week we got the results.

It turns out that Owen's ancestry composition is 64% East Asian and Native American. And the majority of that, coming in at 35%, is ...

Mongolian.

Well, that's interesting. And yes, a little surprising to us but not totally out of left field as both Mongolian and Kazakh people have a long history of being nomadic people, working and living in the vast Steppes of central and east Asia. Their traditions, music, cuisine and native clothing share many similarities. We will be sure to add this fascinating country and it's history and people to Owen's life story.

The remainder of his Asian ancestry is Yakut, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, "broadly" East Asian and South Asian, and a tiny bit of Native American.

Honestly, we were expecting to also discover a good amount of Eastern European lineage, specifically Russian. But the results, at 20%, came back fairly evenly spread among Eastern European (defined as Russian, Polish, Ukraine and Hungary), Southern European and Northwestern European. So he's a little Balkan, British, Finnish, but not French, Italian, nor (sigh) ... German.

We are thrilled to have this information for Owen. We all enjoyed reading his reports and talking about the results. Owen particularly like learning that most likely his birth mother's ancestors started some 29,000 years ago in Siberia.

As for medical information, while we still don't know those medical form answers, we discovered that Owen is not a carrier for 39 genetic conditions that, if present, could negatively impact him or his future children. On a lighter note, Owen's DNA shows he's more likely to prefer salty or savory snacks (true), have dry ear wax and less body odor (yuck and good!), and is not likely to lose his hair before age 40 or have male pattern baldness.

23andMe says clearly that they cannot tell the precise origins of all your ancestors, and that the results are based on estimates which could change a bit over time as more DNA is collected from populations world wide. And granted, the results aren't as detailed as we may wish for, but it's so much more than we had and we are thankful for that. Hallelujah for spit!

Cruising with Cearra

What makes an event memorable?

For me, it's all in the details. It's not necessarily related to the amount of money spent or the "awe" factor of the location. No, I think it's the touches - large or small - that show the host knows and cares deeply about making the honoree feel special.

And perhaps there's no one better than Nanny and Maria (my mother/sister-in-law) at planning and creating those personalized details. The bridal shower they hosted for Cearra last weekend was a beautiful example of their creativity and talents, but even more so of their deep love and excitement for Cearra.

The theme was "Cruising" (C and Tim are taking a cruise for their honeymoon) and everything from the handmade invitations to the decor to the specialty cocktail reflected that. Maria made the delicious food, working from recipes she had secretly gathered from Cearra's Pinterest board. The table was set beautifully with soft blue organza, white flowers, and sparkling glassware passed down from Cearra's grandmother. We all received little messages in the bottle, with one telling the lucky recipient they'd be taking home a gorgeous anchor themed wreath; while three other guests won a set of hand painted beach scene cards from Nanny, Maria and Aunt Pam. Nanny's gift to Cearra was presented in a vintage looking suitcase, mimicking one of the stunning cakes. And everywhere Nanny (with Owen's help) had created montages and displays of photos of Cearra growing up, and through her relationship with Tim.

It was truly a special afternoon and one I know Cearra will long cherish and remember.

The First Dispatch from Down South

It will be three weeks ago, this coming Wednesday, that we moved into the new house here in Charlotte, our voices bouncing off high ceilings and echoing around empty rooms.


My co-pilot for much of the drive south

View from our front porch rocking chairs



Since then we’ve purchased some furniture, met the neighbors, spent a very hot afternoon planting flowers, and (finally) got the internet connected. We’ve hung curtains and pictures, filled the kitchen cabinets with our glasses and plates. We’ve walked the community streets, driven the local area, and splashed in the pool. And it’s been good, and overwhelming, and hard, and exciting.

Hanging out at Bear Park

Nice way to spend the day

Halcyon Hive's first design change - new lights hung

Bob and I last made a big move, from Virginia Beach to Maryland, more than 16 years ago. And quite honestly I think I’d forgotten how hard it is to pack up all your possessions, and back out of your driveway that last time. To realize, almost suddenly and violently, that you will no longer daily see the friends you are leaving. To experience the odd sensation of not being able to jump in your car and know exactly where you want to go, and how to get there. To feel just out of place.

It's tough on the heart when you aren't in the same town as your daughter for her birthday. It hurts when the terrific picture of your old neighborhood friends enjoying fireworks makes your son cry for his old buddies. It jolts the first time you want to take a short drive to see your parents; and remember it's no longer a short drive.

Still, it just all takes time. It takes time to make a house feel like home; to change new acquaintances into comfortable friends. To lessen the sense of loss and change. I remember all that, so I take a deep breath when I’m feeling low, and I look ahead.  

We live in an area south of uptown Charlotte called Ballantyne, in a neighborhood named Ardrey. Both are beautiful. Ballantyne has just about everything – lots of restaurants, great shopping, Target, gyms, markets, doctors, movie theaters, salons, and on and on. I’ve heard many times already that you don’t have to leave the “Ballantyne Bubble”.  Living in Ardrey is like being on vacation. All the homes have big front porches and many are painted vibrant shades of blues, greens, yellows and even pink.  Our neighbors have been welcoming and warm, bringing over food, and inviting us over for drinks. Many days we’ve taken the two-block walk to the community pool, and met families who all greet us with a smile.

Two friends

Four friends

Riding the trolley

Find Bob and Owen!

Hello pretty Charlotte

Of course having our friends Le Anne, Marc, Rhys and Elloree here has been wonderful, and fun, and affirming. Le Anne helped me get the kitchen set up on move-in day, and we’ve spent hours shopping for new furnishings. They’ve had us over for dinner the first night we rolled in to town, and had a low country boil for the Fourth of July. And because we do want to make sure to explore our new town and break out of the bubble, we met up with them plus friends Heidi, her daughter Jordon, and Dale, to explore Imaginon in uptown, ride the refurbished trolley line, and eat lunch at a little Peruvian restaurant. Last Saturday we set off on our own to take in a Knights baseball game (the AAA team for the White Sox) and while it wasn't quite like cheering for the O's at Camden Yards, we had a great night.

Enjoying a night Uptown

Grapefruit shandy in a mason jar!

Cheering for the Knights

Look how tall my baby has gotten!

So yes, it’s good. And hard. And exciting and overwhelming. I suspect it will take awhile before I stop referring to Maryland as “back home”. I know we’ve all had moments of frustration; I think we’ve all had moments of sadness. But we've also had days and evenings like yesterday; when we had handstand competitions in the pool with the Kieffers (yep, all of us!), then back to our house for dinner and a dance-off. We still feel lucky for this opportunity, and optimistic for the future. Many thanks to all of you who have supported us, wished us well, and in ways big and small made this all possible. We have the spare room set up; and would love to have visitors!  

   

Be At Peace Baby Girl

Almost 14  years ago, my beautiful little gray cat Lexi, died suddenly from a brain aneurysm and I was shattered. I didn’t think I’d get another cat for a while; I knew I’d never be able to replace her and I was just too heartbroken. Yet just a few weeks later, while home sick from work, sniffling on the coach and flipping through TV channels, I came upon a show produced by our local Humane Society to encourage adoption of their dogs and cats.

And there, nestled calmly in the presenters arms, was “Gizmo”. A petite brown and tan tabby, something about her little pixie face and luminous green eyes captured my heart right away. Soon I was throwing on a pair of jeans and driving to the shelter to bring her home.

We renamed her Beamer and she settled in quickly. She was so soft, so sweet. Estimated by the vet to be about two years old, she liked playing with stuffed mice and happily buddied up with Sadie. She liked to sleep next to me (and sometimes on my head) and would wake me in the morning with “love pats” to my face. She was gentle and quiet and stoic when more cats and a curious little boy joined our household.

Over the past few months, Beamer started having health issues. Tests and x-rays strongly suggested cancer. While she began to lose weight and occasionally pass blood, she was still cheerful, and regular visits to the vet for fluids and meds kept her going for a bit. A month ago she had a rough weekend and I tearfully set up an appointment to take her in one last time. Yet when we arrived at the vet’s she seemed to perk up, wanting to explore the office, and I found myself sobbing and thinking it wasn’t time to let her go. I’m grateful for the amazing, compassionate Dr. Mazzochette at Airpark Animal Hospital who gently told me she would euthanize Beamer if that was my decision, confirmed that we were indeed nearing the end, but that perhaps we should try one last steroid shot. I agreed, and Beamer had a really good 3 weeks, eating like a little machine and getting lots of love and attention.

But yesterday morning, I knew it was time. She’d been so special for us all. She’d fought long and hard. She was tired. So we went again to see Dr. M. I held her close as the calming medication took effect, stroking her head and thanking her for being such a good girl. For helping to patch my heart all those years ago. Owen gave her a kiss and told her he loved her. And then, the final shot, and sweet Beamer was gone.

On the short drive home, the Proclaimers “I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles”) played on the radio; a song my beloved Pop-Pop liked. And I knew he was telling me that he had welcomed her, and would hold her close in heaven.

The Stage's The Thing!

I think one of the most important lessons in parenting is fully embracing (and I mean acknowledging, accepting and celebrating) that your child is not you. His or her tastes, personality, and interests will be uniquely their own. Sure, nurture plays a part and maybe your offspring will be your mini me in many ways big and small. But in the end, nature always wins, and that's a wonderful and glorious thing. Sounds pretty simple and easy doesn't it? But as evidenced by pushy stage moms and hard-driving dad coaches (or, in the bigger picture, by parents not accepting of their kids' life choices), if we're being honest, it can be a challenge.

Owen played baseball for 5 years. I loved it. Although never much of an athlete myself, I am super competitive and love watching sports, so I was more than happy sitting in the bleachers cheering, and then being the Diamondback team mom. Bob was an excellent athlete growing up and I know he really enjoyed the experience too. And while he liked playing, this year when I asked Owen about signing up, he said "no thanks". I guess I could have registered him anyway and he would have been okay with it, but the truth is that Owen is not a natural athlete. He doesn't have the inclination nor desire to practice throwing, catching or batting for hours each week, and I think he recognizes it's not one of his strengths. To me, making him play wouldn't be respecting and honoring Owen. 

But, while I do listen to what Owen wants, I also think it's important that kids are involved in some activities besides school (and video games). Enter stage right ... acting. Why? Well, Owen has always seemed to enjoy making up scenarios where he's taking on another role. When we watched "Storage Wars" a few years ago, he liked to stand in front of us and be the auctioneer. Anyone who's been around him in the last year or so knows his penchant for pretending to be a WWE wrestler - complete with choreographed moves and voice overs. Once he started to write a play, and the boy does love to dress in costume. So, while not exactly overwhelming evidence of a budding Oscar winner, I decided maybe theater might be his "thing", or at least something he didn't hate doing.

So I signed him up for the local Arts Center's children's production of "Sleeping Beauty" and took a somewhat hesitant Owen to his first practice in the beginning of March. He didn't audition for a speaking role, so I was quite surprised when after practice one night I learned the director had asked him if he wanted to play Young Prince Phillip and have three lines (well, two lines and an "accckkkk") and Owen had accepted. He was pretty nonchalant about his new role, but liked knowing he'd be wearing a cape and crown.

Fast forward to last Friday night. I think Bob and I were far more nervous than Owen for his stage debut. Would he freeze up when he looked out and saw a packed house? Would he remember his lines and would anyone actually be able to hear him? On the car ride to the theater Owen wondered aloud if he should say his lines in a different voice each show; I crossed my fingers and told him to use his best judgment as an actor (and thought to myself, yep, this could be very, um, entertaining).

My friend Missy and I had volunteered to be backstage moms, which meant we got to goof around with the props before the show and then stand in the wings to watch the production. And when the cast finally made it's first appearance on stage, I had a great view of Owen.

I watched with a bursting-with-joy heart as our Young Prince Phillip joined the Royal Family on it's dais, singing the opening number with a huge smile on his face. Owen looked absolutely thrilled! He nailed his lines then ran off stage for a costume change and to wait to rejoin the cast for the final number and take a bow.  

 

In typical Owen fashion, he wasn't bouncing off the walls like many of the actors post performance; in fact, I was probably more hyped up than him. But he seemed pretty pleased with the fact that two girls from school had come up to him in the lobby afterward and told him he did a good job, and he was happy - just calmly, "this feels right, this feels good" - happy. 

I don't know how much further the acting bug will take him. He did tell me that for his next play he thinks he wants more lines, and when asked he rated the whole thing a 9 out of 10 on a scale of how much he enjoyed it. I've found a theater group in Charlotte and he's said he'd like to go to one of their summer camps. I'll obviously have to learn more about this whole theater thing; it's a whole new language for me and it's certainly different than youth sports. Luckily I have my cousin Brenda and dear friend Amanda (who both have incredibly talented actors in their family) to help me get the lay of the land.

Yes, I still miss baseball. But, seeing Owen shine this weekend in something I think he truly enjoys is a million times better - for all of us. Challenge accepted, lesson learned, and Bravo!

We Are Not Trees

I've long admired those folks who decide they want to live in a certain city (or country), then make it happen. Now I'm excited (and nervous and a bit overwhelmed) to write that Bob and I are joining their ranks. This summer, we will be packing up and moving south to Charlotte, North Carolina!

Why? Well, I've spent quite a bit of time in the Queen City over the past few years, and I love it. Charlotte is a "my size" city, and clean, easy to get around, and packed full of fun things to do. It has Southern charm, tempered just enough by an influx of non-natives, that appeals to this life long Northerner (in other words, people are super friendly but no one will look askance at me for not saying "y'all" every two minutes). The climate is good (no more snow!) as is the cost of living, and there are beaches a few hours away in one direction, and mountains in the other. We are targeting an area south of Uptown that is known for excellent schools, friendly neighborhoods and low crime. I'm really excited to be able to raise Owen in an area that offers lots of opportunities and a quality of life that I love and want for him.

A huge part of the draw is that some of our best friends, the Kieffers, call Charlotte home. If you've read here for a while, you may remember some of our adventures with Marc, Le Anne and their kids, Rhys and Elloree. We always have a great time together, and they will be the perfect ambassadors to welcome us to our new home in more ways than one: Marc is our real estate agent and I'll be working with Le Anne at her interior design firm, Halcyon Hive.

After absolutely loving being a stay at home mom these past 9 years, I'm thrilled that Le Anne wants me to join her as she makes the homes of Charlotte more beautiful! She is incredibly talented and is crazy busy with new clients clamoring for her amazing eye and design sense, and after talking about it for some time we've agreed I can contribute my skills to help further build the business. I feel so lucky to have this opportunity at a job I will love, with a friend I adore, and still have the ability to "mom" in the way that I feel is best for our Owen.

Of course none of this would be possible without Bob's support and buy-in and we are so fortunate that years of hard work and sacrifice have lead us to a point where, with his business partner's blessings, he can work from home. I'm sure it will be an interesting transition for both of us, but also one that will be positive. And yes, I am expecting him to do some laundry between conference calls!

So, while this is all exciting (and exhausting - getting the house ready to list has meant a lot of painting, basement cleaning and many, many donation drop-off trips to Goodwill), it's not been without tears and worries. Change is almost always hard, and it's going to be tough to say goodbye to the friends and neighbors we have here.

Our biggest concern was how Cearra would feel. She's in such a good place now, her and Tim are settled happily into their new home and busy with wedding planning, but of course it's still hard on all us to move away. She understands and gave us her support, and in a few years I wouldn't be surprised if her and Tim join us in a southern migration!

It was tough for me to tell my parents too. As the oldest child, and with my sister in Wisconsin, I've always felt a strong obligation to stay close. And honestly, it is hard and painful to know I won't see them as often, and especially that they won't see Owen as much. I'm very grateful that they are in good health, that they live in a fabulous neighborhood with many close friends and activities that keep them busy and happy, and that they understand and want me to be happy. Bob's mom is one of the most positive people I know, and while I know she will miss us too, she responded with enthusiasm and excitement about our new adventure. And I'm thankful that my brother and sister-in-law live in the same town; it's comforting to know they are always there. We are looking forward to welcoming them all to Charlotte for many long visits. 

The most gut-wrenching person to tell? Hands down, that was Owen. It's understandable; this is the only house he's ever lived in, he will miss his friends, and I don't think he quite gets the whole move thing; he keeps pointing out different things around the house (the TV, toys, ) and asking if we are taking them with us. There have been moments of tears that have made my heart hurt and think twice, but I know without a doubt he will be OK and that this move is best for us as a family. I'm hanging on to that and it helps that recently Owen has been more positive, especially when I show him home listings with pools and tell him he can pick his room at the new place.

So, that's our big news y'all! Our house hit the market Saturday (local friends, if you know anyone looking for a beautiful 4 bed, 2.5 bath home with all new carpet, granite and SS appliances in a wonderful Carroll County neighborhood, let me know!) and we are hoping to be in Charlotte with time for Owen to meet some neighborhood kids and new friends before school starts.     

Hey Southern Friends; Y'all Jealous Yet?

To all my friends and family living well in Yorktown and below - how's your weekend been? Bob, Owen and I have been snowed in since Friday afternoon.

What y'all up to? We've been shoveling, salting, and snow blowing for the past four hours. Officially we got 31" of the white stuff.

Yep, Blizzard Jonas is all anyone around here has talked about for the last week; we even have a channel showing 24/7 coverage. My diet has totally gone by the wayside (hello brownies); my laundry room is piled high with melting boots, scarfs, gloves and snow pants, and I figure school might be back in session by Thursday. Luckily, I stocked up on diet Coke before the deluge and my supply is holding strong.

Still, the snow is pretty, and we've had fun building a fort, sledding, snowball fighting and watching Owen trying mightily to move through the frozen tundra of our yard.

Tonight we'll be able to put on sweats and laze in front of the fire, watch some football, and look forward to sleeping in Monday.

Enjoy the pictures - and your snow free zone!

Spare No One, Spear Everyone

This is a little story about being a mom. A boy's mom.

Thanks to meeting Cearra when she was just 3, I've been blessed to have the experience of helping to raise a daughter. I'd enjoyed the "girly" aspects - princess games and dress-up, manicures and shopping trips - as well as (I hope) being able to offer her wisdom and guidance from a female perspective throughout the years.

However I'd long known I wanted to raise a son too. While never a tomboy growing up, I wasn't big on dolls either, and thought I'd like the kind of play little boys enjoy. I'd also always really enjoyed the kind of puppyish energy most toddler boys radiate. Indeed, I was right; Owen and I spent many happy hours driving toy trucks, tractors and cars in circles (and collisions) on the carpet, and making block towers collapse. I like being outside with him, throwing the ball around or even rescuing worms from the driveway. I loved being a baseball/basketball/soccer mom (not of course that girls can't and don't do all these things). Yes, having a son has been as wonderful as I anticipated and I'm looking forward to continuing to do my best to raise him into a good man.

But I have to admit, as we drove home late Wednesday night from the WWE event (that's professional wrestling for those of you "unlucky" enough not to know) Bob and I took Owen to as a Christmas gift, I had to muse on some of the events I've attended as a boy's mom.

Combine demolition derbies, antique tractor shows, monster truck jams, and now the over-the-top antics of big men in tights. There are times I'd love a nice Disney on Ice show.

Still, there's no greater happiness than watching your child watch something they love. As Owen stood to pump his arms in the Lucha Dragons cheer and looked on in awe as Roman Reigns retained his heavyweight title with a two table-crashing performance against Sheamus, there was no place else I wanted to be.

"Mom, I didn't smile on purpose, because
you know, it's wrestling"