Last night, Big L told me “my friend say she wants to go back to [home country]. I do not want.”

This morning, Big L looked at the calendar this morning and counted down her full days left with us. 13. Ugh.

This evening, I asked Big L to leave me alone for a few minutes. I thought this upset her and I went to apologize, reiterating why I just needed to be alone for a few minutes. She wrote back to me:

“All good things with me. You did not upset me. I regret that it was 13 days. I love you and I’ll be in [home country] when I will worry for you and miss you very much. I love you very good. This poem is for you. Mom Super. Mom Star. The Best Mom here.”

How do you even?

None of us are ready for that goodbye. When Reed heard what we were talking about, he grabbed onto her and said “NOOO! YOU CAN’T GO BACK TO [home country]! YOU CAN’T GO BACK!” While I think he was being a big dramatic just for fun and maybe to make her smile, I think he was genuine that he’s really going to miss her.

And, Gus, who didn’t nap today, walked around the grocery store like this tonight, snuggled against her while she pushed the cart.

And Lena. Lena loves having this girl in her life who is sort of like a mom and sort of like an older friend. A “sister”.

I’m just struggling with the words to let her know how much we all love her. And, I’ve got nothing. Nothing that is going to make August 26th any easier.

There’s a contemporary Christian song that is pretty popular right now called My Lighthouse.

On Saturday, Big L just started singing “my lighthouse, my lighthouse”.

So, I put the song on for her, and this happened. Impromptu dance party.

I decided to put the lyrics in Google Translate for her so she could read what the song was about. Well, she read them, until she got to word Lighthouse. It was translated properly, but she said “I don’t know this”.

So, we looked at photos of all different types of lighthouses. No clue. Her country has a fair sized coastline and apparently many lighthouses, but her home is not very close to the coast. I translated a bit about lighthouses. How ships use them to find their way safely to shore, etc. Still looking clueless. So, I pulled up the Wikipedia article on lighthouses in her language. Okay, better.

Well, on Sunday, the morning after this conversation, Aaron took the kids to visit his parents for the day. When Big L got home, she told me, “Mama, I saw a lighthouse!!!”

Most of you probably have some clue… we live smack dab in the middle of the Midwest. No lighthouses for probably about a thousand miles, or more.

Except, this one.

On the way to Aaron’s parents’ house, someone with a small pond in their backyard has added a lighthouse. I’m usually the passenger on this trip. One day, I mentioned to Aaron that we were coming up on the lighthouse and he said “WHAT?!” In all of his years of going by here, he never noticed the lighthouse.

Thinking he was just terribly unobservant, I asked my sister-in-law. Her husband’s family lives on the other side of the lighthouse, so she’s gone by it many more times than I have. But, nope, she was clueless when I mentioned the lighthouse, too.

Aaron teased me much. “Sure, there’s a lighthouse.”

But, Big L saw it.

[from Google Streetview]

I’m interrupting my regular blogging about hosting and/or photography to share about something random: bathtub paint.

Gus hates taking baths, but loves to paint. Put the two together and you have a winning combination. Bribe bath time with painting time.

This particular concoction is liquid soap of your choice + cornstarch + food coloring. [My mom just sent me this great video on making your own natural food coloring.]

It was a HUGE hit. He kept telling me that the picture he was painting was a slide.

Ah, I do see a slide in the middle of those squiggly lines.

A couple of days after we first did bathtub paint, I let Lena and Gus take a bath together. Well, actually, I started off with just Lena taking a bath, but Gus pretty much demanded to join her since it meant painting. They played nicely(and quietly!!!) together for about an hour, covering the bathtub walls in this soapy “paint”.

Super easy. Super fun.

Each night, I pull Big L in for a hug and whisper “I love you”. For a second, I think how this has become routine, but then I see her face just before she whispers “I love you, too.” I see her soaking up those words.

And, I think of all the times I’ve said those words out of obligation. All of the times I’ve said “I love you, too” as though I would have said “goodbye”. She’s never had that. The grandparents I told “I love you, too” before I hung up the phone. Or the dad I awkwardly told “I love you too” as we battled through my teen years. Or how I can always count on my mom to say “I love you”, on the phone when we’re apart. Big L’s never had those abundance of “I love you”s. Now, my careless words are so treasured by her.

—

Seeing things through Big L’s eyes is such an experience. I tire of hear “Mama, look! Mama, look! Mama, look!” all day long, but I think there is something spiritual in seeing the world with such wonder. To her, each bird and each squirrel is a special treasure to be delighted over. I rarely appreciate these tiny creations, but she sure does.

—

A few weeks ago, I felt frustrated with her, with her attitude and her behavior. I regularly remind myself how she is just a child, and one who has never had the advantage of proper parenting. A child figuring things out on her own. As I stewed over her behavior, the deep realization hit me that I am so glad that God does not deny me love based on my own behavior. He loves me and forgives me no matter what. In that light, her missteps seemed so tiny.

—

This evening, we had family photos with Big L taken. I found a super cute dress for Big L and it was very cheap, so I got one in Lena’s size, too. I didn’t want them to wear matching dresses for the photos, so I set Lena’s dress aside. I also wasn’t sure how Big L would react to having the same dress as a girl so much younger than her. I snuck Lena into my room tonight to show her the dress, knowing she’d be delighted. Well, she showed Big L right away.

Seeing the dress, Big L screamed, “I HAVE A SISTER!!!!” She picked Lena up and spun her around, screaming “SISTERS!!!!” And then she hugged both boys and said “I HAVE BROTHERS!!!” She skipped around with them the rest of the evening, “Come here, sister and brothers!”

I had no clue that a pair of matching dresses would get such a reaction, nor did I think that Big L would be so over the moon about matching a child half her age. But, perhaps there’s something about matching your “sister” that says “we belong”. We match, so we must belong together.

—

The thing that really amazes me most  about Big L is that I know she’s been through a lot. There’s no child who is an orphan and hasn’t experienced loss. Knowing bits of her story, her loss is real and profound. But, she is still full of joy. If I have a bad attitude or lose my patience, she just forgives me, without a second thought. I have a lot to learn in that way.

It is such a privilege to love Big L and have a chance to see the world through her eyes.

Big L has been talking to us for weeks about making borscht. On Sunday, Aaron finally took her to the store and helped her get the ingredients. She needed: 3 beets, a 10lb bag of potatoes, a cabbage, salt and red pepper.

When she got home, she put me to work, peeling beets and potatoes for her. She chopped and dumped in all into our largest pot.

If I was to write the recipe, it might be something like this:

• 3 beets, chopped
• 6-7lbs potatoes, cubed
• half a cabbage, chopped
• pinch of salt
• pinch of red pepper
• dash of sugar

Dump it all into a huge pot. Boil until potatoes and beets and tender.

However, I’d probably chop the vegetables finer or even use the food processor, but that’s my preference. Natasha’s Kitchen also has a recipe for Russian Borscht, which is supposed to be quite good.

She was quite proud of her soup. We all praised her on it, and said we’d add cooking to her list of things she’s good at. Then, we listed off everything we knew she was good at, while she smiled shyly.