Two-Month Anniversary: Gotcha Day

I finally uploaded this video and I'm amazed at the changes in Will since we first met him on July 20. In a lot of ways he was more like a 9-month old baby on that day and even that first week, instead of a 25-month old little boy. I can see his detachment and discomfort (not surprising considering he was just passed off to strangers), the way he's leaning away and even his legs are not engaged in being held. Now when we hold him we note his "tree frog" grip. Even his toes grip us tight, and his arms rest on our necks as he is happily packed here and there, asking us what everything is called. In the video he only makes eye-contact a few times. But I also see glimpses of the toddler just waiting for a chance to be heard, listened to, taught. I see a brave little boy who is choosing to observe and wait and see what exactly is happening before he allows fear to take over his emotions. It did, eventually, and what a road we've had facing those fears. But he didn't let it keep him from coming to us, and that was brave.



I simply handed him a toy car, and he was willing to come right to me. And when it was time to leave that chaotic room and see what was outside, he was willing to come with us again. He's an explorer. An observer. A question-asker. A risk-taker. Thank goodness.

I prefer watching this video without the sound. The sounds of that room and China still make me a little nuts. But I'm in total caregiver mode asking those questions. That's pretty much all the info we got. But Brandon, Will, and I had each other and we did what we could with experience and what we'd studied, and focused on what worked and what didn't. He's a different little boy now. Not totally, but it's like he'd been bucked off-track the first two years and now he's returned to becoming himself. He's finally turning over his "inner parent" to us, and trusting us to do that job for him, and to do it better. That alone has eliminated half the battles, and he's having a childhood. He plays, he laughs, he pushes boundaries and his body, and if he gets frustrated or hurt, he turns it over to us. Mama will help. Dada will make it better. Will will be okay. Will isn't alone anymore. Will has Mama, Dada, Meh-en, Eckob, Dog, and Beh. He looks at family pictures and knows Chessa, M't, A-Car, Bampa, Bamba, and Sheh. He hears Brodie barking at the front door and goes running to see who's there, and squeals in utter, really LOUD delight when it's Dada or Eckob or anyone from his little tribe. That's right, now we have the dog barking AND the baby screaming at the front door when somebody comes. WELCOME. We are so excited to have you WAIT WHERE ARE YOU GOING? WE'RE CUUUUUTE.

 He is a sweet little man. I recently read on an adoption blog, addressing the traumatic state of your adoption those first days, that "the child you get in China is not your child." It's true. They find themselves later. They just need to be given that chance.

I wanted to take some new video to post with the Gotcha Day video, so yesterday I took the camera outside. He got pretty quiet for the camera, but we had fun exploring, This is a pretty typical day out back with Willster. (Please ignore the space of dirt where the pool used to be. We're getting sod put down soon! I hope...)







What we're seeing:

GROWTH: Will has grown from being in the less-than-3% in weight and height, to 6% in weight and 12% in height. Everything is looking good in his development. We are humbled and grateful. He loves to move that little body. If his bathtime play is any indication, he should be a little swimmer next summer.

SLEEP: He's taking his bottle again. 6oz of warm whole milk (with a scoop of formula added until the container is empty) for nap and bedtime. He's doing great with sleep. He rarely wakes up at night, now. HOORAY.

REGULATION: Today was Will's first full day of church. All three hours. His behavior is very typically toddler, and that's great. He likes nursery and interacts pretty nicely with the kids. He offers them cars and gives them back things they've dropped. Today he pushed a wooden ring back and forth across the table with a little girl. I'm happy to see he gets along well with others his age. He had moments of potential meltdown, but there was always some distraction and he pushed through it okay. We kept bear handy just in case, and used it a few times, but overall, he seems to really like it in there. HOORAY. It definitely helps that my new church job is nursery assistant. Perfect!

Last week we took Will to Sacrament meeting and then a little preview of nursery.
He seemed to accept it as just part of what we do. Because we're a family.
Also, couldn't you just squish him?

COMMUNICATION: Will is pretending to talk on his toy phone. He says, "Haloo." Then nods his head like he's listening. Then he says some gibberish, then hands the phone off to someone else to say "Haloo." He started this after talking to my mom and then Chelsea on the phone. It's adorable. New words: tah...tah...tah (hot; this is whispered), tee (eat), Bampa/Bamba (Grampa and Gramma), Sheh (Shelli), gwink-oo (thank you), quock (clock), sit (kiss), nigh (good night), lebelblelblelbel (Llama Llama), MEEEEEYA...MEEEEEEYA (Come here! It's usually yelled from somewhere I am not. I noticed I say it a lot in the videos, ha).

Happy Anniversary, Will. It has all been totally worth it.

Two Weeks Home

This last Thursday marked two weeks home with Will, and tomorrow marks four weeks since Gotcha Day. Here are the things we are seeing:

SLEEP: Will seems to have transitioned from his fear (terror) of falling asleep, to fearing that we will leave the room. This is GOOD. He has moved from using the end of his bottle as a jump off point to a thrashing, kicking, clawing fight to stay awake, to allowing himself to relax into my arms, be rocked, and then laid in his crib. Sometimes I need to hover near the crib, sometimes I try to sneak out and then have to come back in and just be present a few more minutes, but sometimes I can put him down and he'll settle into his blanket and I can leave. I attribute this change to gas drops after he finishes his bottle (YAY GAS DROPS), keeping the music low but on repeat (Kenny Loggins' Return to Pooh Corner and the Chinese Children's Angelic Choir Lullabies cds, rotated every few days all night or all nap), and Will's progressing attachment. He is clearly no longer afraid to go to sleep, and he likes his room. He says "bye-bye" to everyone, blows a kiss, and gives them  each a soft headbutt before bedtime. The fact that he doesn't want me to leave the room means that he finds my presence a comfort, a reassurance. And that's SO GOOD. I will take it. And it only takes an extra five-ten minutes of comforting and sneaking out. Better than the full 1-2 hours it used to take after his bottle was finished.

BUT...last Sunday night Will had a major meltdown. It happened about two hours after he fell asleep. Jacob and I took turns trying to comfort him. Maren peeked in to see if she could help. Will was a detached, unreachable, enraged wild animal and it was heartbreaking. It brought back the pain of the airplane trip, but I was thankful I could be on the carpet with him and keep him safe, at least. And for the first time, as he thrashed and tore and screamed, I considered night terrors. Is this what we had been dealing with all along? He completely exhausted himself. The kids worried. I cried as he was so spent he could no longer even lift his arms, and all that he could utter were despairing moans, still not giving in to sleep and keeping his eyes wide open, staring at nothing. I gently lifted him and put him in his crib. He kept his eyes open for 10 more minutes as he calmed, and then he dropped. I went and sat out in the hall and sobbed. Then I looked up "post-adoption night terrors" on my phone. The description fit.
The next morning I called my sister, whose son had night terrors from the age of two to four years. Knowledge is good, and so is knowing you're not alone. It was actually a relief. With night terrors, you shouldn't wake the child. Let them ride it out. They won't remember it. It's harder on the parents than the child. Just keep him safe. I can do that. The kids can handle that. And sure enough, the next morning, Will woke up bright-eyed and cheerful, shouting "HI!" when he saw me and reaching for me with both hands and a huge grin, and probably wondering why mommy looked like she'd wrestled a wolverine all night.

That was last Sunday, and it hasn't happened again. He has woken up during the night and I've assessed what was happening, and the night terror hasn't returned yet. A bottle and rocking, or just a reassurance that someone has come and he's okay, seems to be working. Will is sleeping through the night about every 3 nights and last night was a gift of two-nights-in-a-row! But if the night terror does return, I'm better prepared to handle it. We all are.

ROUTINE: We've finally been able to re-establish a sort-of routine, now that jet-lag is finally being shown the door. Will is a creature of habit. Not surprising given the structured routine of an institution. I'm fine with this. He's still sleeping in longer than he should (and I am, too), but school starting will remedy that. Breakfast, playtime, bottle, nap, snack, playtime, dinner, walk, bath, bottle, bedtime. Routine. He loves it. I appreciate it. He takes good naps. I have to wake him after 2 1/2 hours. But I'm starting to see that naptime will be my designated writing time. Yes, I can finally begin to believe that I will write again. And soon.

COMMUNICATION: I heard Will walking around the house the other day repeating a sound. "Ooo-kheee. Ooo-kheee. Ooo-kheee." Cute. A little later he lost his balance and landed on his bum. I asked, "Uh-oh, are you okay?" Getting up, he said, "Ooo-kheee." Okay. Okay. OKAY. He's saying okay. And nobody taught him. Yesterday he started calling cars "car" instead of "chu-chu." He's just picking things up. It's awesome.

COPING SKILLS: As Will's institutional behaviors diminish, it's become clear that his coping skills are poo. We are starting from scratch in teaching him how to handle disappointments, because he's been left to himself to try to cope with the TREMENDOUS disappointments life has shown him already, and no offense Will, but your baby brain filled in the blanks with awful things. This, above all, is why I hesitate to take him out, to attempt even an hour of church, to take him grocery shopping or visiting teaching. His temper is HOT. He gets frustrated easily. If he hurts himself he loses it. If he's tired or out of the "routine" it's clear a meltdown could be looming, waiting for any trigger to set it off. But even in the four weeks that we've been working on this we've made definite progress. He's a different child than when we first got him. It's like he was a seed in dry soil and now he's beginning to sprout. We are blessed to be part of it. The growth will continue, I'm sure. He is doing such a great job already. I wonder who he'll be a year from now? I'm excited for him. "Keep trying, Will! Get up! Dust yourself off. Let me kiss it better. You're okay. Get up. Up! Good job! You can do it!" The other day I was thinking about something I'd felt--I KNEW--from my Dad, from the earliest of the earlies: "You can do it, Kris." Always. It was ingrained in me that my Dad knew I could do anything. It was my fact.
I want Will to feel that from us. I want him to KNOW it. Like it's part of him. "You can do it."
"I knew you could do it."

It's the most powerful thing.

THE FAMILY: Last Thursday we arranged for Brandon to keep Will for the afternoon while Maren and I went back-to-school shopping. Maren and I counted down the days, and Brandon took a deep breath, and shooed us out the door while Will wasn't looking. And they did great! Will realized I was gone, of course, but Brandon distracted him with play. They read "the same three books a hundred times," Will knocked the kitchen garbage over twice, emptied the tupperware drawer three times, they played outside, ate spaghetti for dinner, went on a 40 minute walk, and when we came in the front door towing our shopping bags, Brandon was coming down the stairs holding a freshly-bathed Will, who wore pajamas and a huge grin. YESSSSSSS. Also, my eyes popped out of my head because I couldn't even remember Brandon ever bathing our other kids. I'm sure it happened. Probably? He even used lotion! O_O

Brandon was dog-tired, but agreed that the evening was a success,and I was very grateful.


Speaking of dogs, Brodie and Will have come to a truce of sorts. Brodie realized that after nap, Will sometimes gets to carry around a toddler snack-cup full of goldfish crackers, and sometimes, Will sticks his whole hand into the cup and pulls it out with such force that, to Brodie's delight, a dozen crackers go flying with it. Likewise, Will discovered that Brodie likes to eat goldfish crackers, and that's fun. So, they are in a "mutual appreciation" phase of their relationship. But I have noted that bringing Will home is the event that made our 6 1/2 year-old "puppy" grow up and act his age. Kind of bitter-sweet. He may bark his head off at the "murderers outside our door," but he's my affectionate, sweet dog. I hope he grows to be a good friend to Will. And protects him from those murderers. *eyeroll*

Jacob was at Scout Encampment up near Spokane all week and Will recognized his absence. He pointed out pics of "Eckub" anytime he was near them, and he clapped and smiled when Jacob came home. Cool.

I'm excited that the kids get to go back to school, but honestly, I've loved having them close. I've leaned on them and they've lifted me up. They've encouraged me and thanked me and witnessed all the things. They've put their arms around me when I felt like collapsing in tears. They've changed diapers and babysat and let me nap. They've been awesome. I couldn't ask for better kids. But I'm stronger and routine will be good for all of us. They need their friends and activities. And they'll have an excited little brother to come home to.

Loving Will is improving all of us.

I hate imagining this strong, smart, silly, affectionate boy growing up anywhere else.

One Week Home

It's time for an update. One week home, three weeks from Gotcha Day. I'd like to start by saying that besides raising 4 of my own kids, all very different types of toddlers, I also worked in a large inner-city daycare center in the infant/toddler room while Brandon was in college, and continued to babysit privately in my home until just a few years ago. With all of this experience, and all the studying of international adoption I did for XinQin and Will, this has been one of the most emotional, fascinating, draining, frustrating, heart-breaking, joyful, rewarding things I've ever encountered. We are in a constant state of considering where Will came from, where his head is, his loss, his grieving, his genetics and his personality, along with his firsts, his joys, his comforts. I knew that stuff with my bio kids. With Will, it's like working through a labyrinth, hoping we're making the right turns.
We've been home from China a week now. Here's a list of things we are seeing:

1. Will's meltdowns have diminished to more manageable tantrums, and they are fewer. His negative (and scary) institutional behaviors are fading. We are in awe at the speed in which he is learning and choosing to regulate himself instead of giving himself over to what is more familiar. This is such a blessing. We are still cocooning so we're keeping him out of social situations. Right now I fear he might fall back on old habits if he's overwhelmed or over-stimulated. Still, seeing the rate at which he's letting it go is so encouraging, and we wonder at the idea of him still being in an orphanage, and at the other little ones still there, and these horrible behaviors continuing and strengthening, when it takes so little time for their minds to begin accepting that there is something better for them, if it's offered. He is soaking in real love and constant family.

2. I'm not concerned about language at all. He's a little mimic. He jabbers a lot and reminds us of our granddaughter, Carly. Getting these two together, I smile at the conversations of jibberish they would have. No, he's not speaking Chinese. We asked our China guide. She laughed. Nope, just baby talk. He does say Thank you (xie xie) and car (chu chu) in Chinese, but that's it. He is picking up new English words every day. He says hi (his favorite greeting repeated over and over), bye-bye, Mama and Dada, Cub (Jacob), Meh (Maren), baby, apple, bow wow or woof, nana (banana), cheese ("say cheese" for the camera), pee-bee-bee (peekaboo), and I see (I see you). Yesterday we started the name game, pointing to ourselves and saying our name, then pointing to Will and saying his name. He caught on and wanted to play again today, starting with "Will."

3. Sleep makes a HUGE difference, especially for Mommy. I've been running on 3 hours of sleep a night, with only 2-3 full nights of sleep thrown in there. Will was cranky, I was cranky, and honestly, I was crying at the drop of a hat. A body and mind can't function on exhaustion. Add to the mix that I've been sick since day 2 in China. I lost 10 pounds in two weeks because of a stomach thing. Not an energizing weight loss program, but a draining illness. And I was putting Will first. So the stomach bug and no sleep, on top of jet lag and being there for all of this transition has been absolutely draining, physically, emotionally, and mentally. Will seems to have sleep anxiety--not being asleep, but going to sleep, as if it's a loss of control he can't give in to. After learning of the conditions in which they're put to bed in the orphanage, I can't blame him. We somehow have to make that transition a safe place for him, and I think we're figuring it out. But yesterday, after another 3-hour night, I was a mess. Brandon mentioned something at dinner and I just started crying. Blah. BUT, we tried fresh ideas with the bedtime thing and kept Will up until 10 pm, Brandon bought me a new comfy rocking chair, and somehow the mix worked and Will slept through the night. That was so needed. Both of us slept until 9:30 am. So today, at least, I'm thinking clearer and Will was definitely happier. We'll see how tonight goes. Also, I've been on probiotics for a few days and I think they're making a difference. I hope. I need to be healthy and strong.

4. Going backward to move forward. In all of my studying I read a lot about regressive behavior in institution kids. I'm so grateful. On paper, Will is 25 months old. In life, he is more like 14 months old, in some ways, a lot younger. He has 16 teeth, but doesn't know how to chew, because he was only fed soft foods. He still pushes food to the roof of his mouth. He's making up for lost time with that one as we introduce finger foods. He loves apples and they're great chewing practice. He still takes a bottle. The nanny told us he takes one night bottle of regular cold milk. But he didn't want that. We give him a bottle of warm formula before nap time and one before bed. I don't care. He loves it. He needs it. When we first started with a bottle, he'd turn away from me, and not make eye contact, not letting me touch the bottle, and barely him. Then, he would turn toward me. Then, he began to make solid eye contact, and study me. Then the matching began. I'd read about that, so it was exciting to see happen. He'd lift his brows. I'd lift mine. He'd blink long. I'd blink long. He'd grin. I'd grin. He'd lift his brows again. I'd copy. Then one night, he reached up and rested his hand on my face. That was emotional. I moved his palm to my mouth and kissed it. Now, when he greets me after nap, or in the morning, or during bottle, or when he likes a book I've read, he lifts his palm to my mouth and I kiss it. So yeah, bottle time. All the things I did naturally as I nursed my bio babies...Will didn't get any of that. He's getting it now. We do a lot of rocking in the rocking chair. Lots.

He loves steamed broccoli.

5. Physically, Will is growing. He's sturdier, and I'm pretty sure he's heavier. He's still a comfy 18 months in clothes, but he feels strong and healthy in our arms (especially when he's fighting sleep with all of his might, ugh). When we first got him he toddled unsteadily, holding a hand. Now he walks very independently and practically runs. His first doctor appointment will be in a couple of weeks. He hated the medical exams in China. I'm not looking forward to it, but I have questions that need answers, and we need to make sure he's on the right track.

Chasing bubbles.

He loves the little pool. He hopped and splashed and spent lots of energy with me and Maren.

6. Will loves to read books. I could not be happier with this. All day, interspersed with his other play, he brings us books to read to him. He wants a book when he first wakes up (Little Blue Truck Leads the Way), repeated (All the Ways I Love You, the little photo book I made him, and others), and before he goes to bed (On the Night You Were Born). We read to him as much as he wants. Are you kidding me? We're a book family.



7. Just now, at 11:15 pm, Will woke up. I braced myself and went up to his room. When I picked him up out of his crib, I noticed he had a wet diaper. So I changed him there in the dark as he calmed. With dry diaper on, I lifted him to my shoulder and he relaxed. I swayed with him until his breathing deepened, with Kenny Loggins singing softly in the background, and then laid him in his crib, and snuck out. It worked. No institutional rocking. Totally normal. And I was blown away by the normalcy of it, taking time to say a little prayer of thanks and do a little victory dance in the hall. I'm not naive enough to think it will be sweet sailing nighttime bliss from here on out. No way. But tonight, I'm grateful.

And I'm going to bed.

A Baby Shower.

My friend is giving me a baby shower.

You heard me.

I'm so excited.

Thank you, Sara! She made these adorable invitations (I removed our address for the blog). And thank you, Laura and Kira and whoever else is helping. We are starting over. It's been thirteen years since my last baby shower, and we've passed along a lot of baby things since then. I've kept some good toys and a high chair. For the grandkids. Heh heh. I found a good stroller at a yard sale, and I bought a diaper bag. A DIAPER BAG. I remember the day I celebrated not having to carry one of those around anymore...silly Krista.

Have I mentioned how I'm so excited? What a strange perspective. Knowing what I'm doing, but still totally not. There are expectations--because I've done this four times. But never as a 44-year-old. And never of an orphan. He won't be that anymore, but it's his beginning. He will be adopted, but even that label is a passing one. We will say, he WAS adopted. That will be part of his story. But the hope is that we will say, "He IS ours."

I totally know I'm not the only 44-year-old to start or re-start a family. I know I'm not the only woman adopting a child over ten years younger than the youngest bio child. And I know I'm not the only grandma to have a baby.

I just didn't know I would be any of those. And here we are.

But I also know that Will has experienced trauma in his young little life. We have tools: love, patience, compassion, strength, education, will, faith, experience. We have the experience of others to draw on. We have support. I had no idea how much. We have laughter. And books. Lots of books.

I know opening your heart up like this is a risk. I know that in a lot of ways. I know there are unknowns with Will, as with any child, bio or not. I know that.

The other day I'd wanted to try something I hadn't before. It was a silly little something--a cup of fresh fruit  and cucumber with lime and Mexican spices--but by the time we could go get it they'd sold out. I pouted. "I wanted to try." My husband just opened up laughing, shaking his head. He put his arms around me. "That's you," he said. "Always so excited to try."

I'm realistic, nervous, hopeful, cautious, scared. Prayerful.

And I'm so excited.

Come see us at the shower! If only to share in the hope!

Healing

It's been three months since we left China. Most of that time we've stayed to ourselves. There is a term used for an adjustment process when you bring adopted children home called "cocooning." Well, we were cocooning our family. I can't express how important it became to have our oldest daughter, Chelsea, there with her baby girl. And to have our son-in-law, Matt, join us later for Christmas. Maren, Jacob, Brandon, and I smiled much more often and bigger because of those three tootles.

Going out was hard. Putting on "normal" faces was hard. Friends were good and sweet to us. But we didn't attend too many things. When something like that happens, a loss, avoiding things that hurt or require effort is a survival tool. But we did venture out every once in a while. It was still hard. I didn't go anywhere by myself, and if Brandon was gone too long at work, I'd find myself curled in a ball on the bed, clutching my cell phone and waiting for him to return my texts.

Brandon went back to work, even though his boss said stay home. Work is his thing. So I let him work. He always came home and always held me tight.

Carly is the goofiest, talkiest, jamminest grandbaby there ever was. I may be biased. But it was super. I'd put her on the counter while I did my makeup in the morning and she would tell me everything. And then I'd have her on my hip while I stirred or sauteed or flipped in the kitchen, and she'd watch and listen to me tell her why we add blueberries to pancakes. And she began to stir the toy pot with the toy spoon in the toy kitchen and tell us why we add green peas to mac-n-cheese. And then there was the dancing. We boogied. We danced like everyone was watching.

None of Carly's words are English. She doesn't seem to care. She shrugs, throws her hands out, nods her head, gestures with pointing motions, and laughs heartily at the jokes. All in gibberish. Loud, confident gibberish. It was very healing for all of us.

When they left after New Year's we kind of had to start all over again. It was sad.

But we've come through deep sadness, bewilderment, anger, and doubt. We've considered a bigger picture, and gratitude, and "What now?" We are each healing at our own pace, and yet as a whole our home feels good. It no longer feels broken.

I hope Xinqin will find her way in life. She is very strong-willed, and frightened, but shrewd. I think she might be okay. I have to believe something like that or it starts to eat at me.

Maren is having the most difficult time of all of us. She lost a sister. It was like this whole big, huge, important life that she'd hoped and worked for...died. She blamed herself until I convinced her otherwise. Her usual happy, chipper, "Where's the party?" self had given way to cynicism and doubt. She gave me permission to post this. Last night she tearfully told me her friends tell her she's such a downer, and they no longer greet her in the halls or reach out to her. I had to tell her that they don't know. They just don't know how hard it's been at home. We never know how hard it is for anyone at home. But it was also a chance for her to look at the things she says and does, and to vow to make an effort to look up, to cheer others, and to come to me about anything. But mostly that it's okay that she's sad for a time, and it will get better. I think she trusts me about this.

We are beginning to go do things, and participate more. We're looking outside ourselves and hoping again. There is a different energy in our home.

Throughout all of this, though, we've been so blessed with immeasurable support from friends and family. I've received such kind emails, notes in the mail and dropped at our house. I treasure these. Somebody made a prayer page for us on Facebook, and honestly, at first I was mortified. But then I saw all of the people who joined so quickly. The outpouring of love and compassion has strengthened us and taught us that when people give, they do give unconditionally. Thank you.

We've drawn closer together as a family. We are changed. But I think things that become different can also become better.

Breakaway

I learned a few things last month. With my husband's busy schedule and so-so will power to take time off on his own, I learned that I just need to make the reservation, tell him not to have anything at this time, and remind him repeatedly as he tries to add things, that this time is already filled. So, as an addendum to my previous post, today I'm sharing pictures of a kidnapping. A man-napping. Not a man, napping, but a--oh here, just look at the pictures.

We left Yakima after school got out and the kids were situated.
We drove to Cashmere and headed straight for Country Boy's BBQ for dinner. Um . . . YUM.

After we stopped at a market and grabbed donuts for dessert we headed up to the cabin. It was dark by then.
My mom and dad were up at the cabin for a few days and had left earlier.
They drew a welcome note in the snow for us. Aww.

We did not build a fire but we were still cozy.

A peek outside in the morning.

Just before our morning hike. This is the side/back of my sister's cabin. It's a magical place.

This is me. Those aren't my boots. Before we left our house I accidentally grabbed my son's
size 11 snow pacs instead of my size 8 snow pacs.
They were clanking around my feet and my socks smooshed down around my arches. But my feet stayed warm!

Heading up the trail behind the cabin. This trail is about 10 miles and we hiked the whole thing.
Just kidding it's about 2. Maybe 1. But it's uphill. Both ways.

The morning sky just got prettier and prettier as we hiked.

It was warm enough we could take our gloves off.
I also removed my socks because who likes to hike with socks smooshed down around your arches?

Brandon at the top!

Looking down over the top at the cabin. It's in the center of the picture.

The magical little valley.

Made it back to the cabin. This is the front porch and me with my big boots. Great hike!

My mom kept sending us funny texts about things to go do and see. She's always been adventurous. But she brings her own mustard. I was giggling. Here is a sample:

Brandon wondered if we were going to get in trouble if we didn't go try the sausage.

We were pretty content to stay put, play games, read, snuggle, and cook yummy food. Next time we'll venture out and explore.

Then, sadly, it was time to go. And then the snow started falling. Then dumping.

This was our adventure. Our 1 1/2 hour trip home turned into 4 hours. We stopped in Ellensburg at the IHOP for french toast and cocoa. When we decided to keep on, our server brought us cocoa to go. And we made it!

This trip was definitely worth it! Brandon smiled so much and it was just good to do nothing. A grown-up time out. I'll need to man-nap him again soon.