Sleep

I'm fairly confident that we hold Asher while he sleeps far too often. Except for the fact that this is the only infant we will ever snuggle in our family. I'm quite certain we've spoiled him by how much he's held during naps and at night before he goes into his crib. But I wouldn't change it for the world.

From the first day Asher came home, Brian and I knew that he would be the only itty-bitty baby to grace our home. So consciously we made some decisions to soak in every minute of this short season, which included lots of sleepy snuggles. He co-slept with us off-and-on during those early months (something I SWORE we would never do and I love that we did). To this day he falls asleep on our chests for every nap and before bedtime every night. He's never cried it out. During Asher's afternoon nap he sleeps next to Brian on our king-sized bed. Most mornings he comes into bed with us for an hour or so before the day finally awakens us.

I'm sure most people and experts would say we're crazy and frown on our choice. But that's just it: it's our choice. And we've made that ridiculous choice because we are acutely aware that we 1) didn't get to do this with our first two kids and 2) we will never get this time again. Therefore, we spoil Asher and we adore every minute of it. It's holy ground. It's sacred space. It's intimate time with our son and we are grateful for every precious, time-sucking moment holding him while he sleeps...

We've taken a million pictures of our sleeping baby because it's a reminder that when we rest we are held in good hands...

Holding him sleeping on a Sunday morning at church. Per usual.

Snuggling after momma's long work day.

A nightly ritual. (Those eyelashes!)

Heavenly peace...

Brotherly Love

One afternoon I was working from home on the couch. Brian and Addise were out running errands together, so it was just me and the boys. I was in the zone on my computer and things got suddenly quiet. You know in most cases if you have young children, this is probably no good. I was wrong.

As I snuck off the couch I "caught" Judah holding Asher...

I leaned in to see what was going on and I heard Judah whisper, "I love you baby brother, no matter what."  And then Judah kissed his baby brother.

About 20 minutes later a similar moment happened. Judah was snuggled on the ground next to Asher and whispered to him, "Love you so much, Asher".

Judah didn't know I was watching. It was a pure expression of his heart.

We've often prayed that Asher would be a healer for Judah and Addise. That in his little life that he would be filling the gaps in their spirit's that we didn't get to at Asher's age. In that moment, I sensed the Holy Spirit saying, "See, I'm doing it. I'm healing their hearts."

These are the moments when you know all the hard stuff is worth it.

Once an Ethiopian...

Addise wore her bright yellow, traditional Ethiopian dress. Judah wore his Amharic, "Ethiopian" t-shirt. It'd been too long since we've had Ethiopian food so we joined some African-loving friends for a traditional meal. We were greeted in warm, Ethiopian hospitality by Aster, which happens to be Addise's middle name. Aster lit up when she met our kids and I asked if she would speak Amharic to our kiddos throughout our meal. She enthusiastically agreed. What happened next nearly gave me a heart attack...

I greeted our friends, corralled Judah and Addise to the table, and began taking our seats. Aster was already leaning over, speaking to Judah in Amharic. She was talking to him and then I heard him say in English, "My name is Judah."

What?!?!

Tears flooded my eyes and I'm sure my face looked like I'd seen a ghost. I gasped at Aster, "he understood you?!?"

"Of course. Once he knows Amharic, it's always in there." she nonchalantly replied. I could hardly process what was happening. My son lived in Ethiopia for 2 1/2 years and has been home for over 2 years. For nearly half his life he's barely heard Amharic. But it all rushed back to the surface.

After an eternity of seconds I pulled myself together and begged her to speak more to him. She joyfully obliged. Throughout our 2-hour lunch Aster asked Judah in Amharic...

"Is she your older sister or younger sister?" ... "She's my little sister."
"Do you want that to drink?" ... "Yes, I want the orange juice like them."
"Thank you for coming here today." ... "Thank you."

A few weeks after this lunch, I'm still overwhelmed at what happened. First of all, my son is smart. Second, he's lost so very much. He lost his language (I'm confident he's lost two: Amharic and his tribal language) at an age when language was so important to his development. Third, we have an opportunity to preserve remnants of his birth language through experiences like this with Aster.

Lunch was amazing. Look at the beauty of Ethiopia through these pictures...

Set-up for a traditional coffee ceremony...a very special Ethiopian tradition.

Addise pretending. Judah indulging her.

True Love.

Traditional Ethiopian meal: doro wat, beef tibs and vegetables on injera.

Judah INHALED the lunch and ate just like an Ethiopian, with the flick of his wrist picking up the doro wat with a hunk of injera. It was food to my soul to watch his roots come to life!!!

After lunch was over we splurged on the coffee ceremony, which includes burning frankincense and nibbling on popcorn. One of my favorite things about Ethiopian culture!!!

Empty coffee cup with the colors of Ethiopia and the Lion of Judah. Full heart.

We will be back for more. Often. Soon.