Three Going on 17

Catching Loumy putting on his special little "Tom's Natural Deodorant" this morning made me feel like laughing and crying at the same time. As you can see, I dashed for my camera and caught him finishing up (it helped that this is his first time putting it on himself and he spent a good 30 seconds on each pit).

Doesn't it seem that if you have to stand up on a footstool in the bathroom to see in the mirror that you shouldn't have to be putting on deodorant? Especially if you are 3?

A few months ago I noticed a smell akin to one of Chancho's shirts that he has worked out in and accidentally left in his gym bag for several weeks (not that he does that, but that's what I imagined the smell to be like). I sniffed around and, to my horror, discovered that it was coming from under Loumy's armpits. I thought it was a fluke and quickly gave him a bath. Thirty minutes later, I could smell him again. I put some of Chancho's deodorant on him, which he thought was awesome. Over the next couple of months the smell would come and go from him. I talked to my brother (our pediatrician) because I was worried this might be a sign of precocious puberty. He told me that the smell itself was nothing to worry about and told me what signs to keep an eye out for. I tried to ignore it, but I don't want my son to get a reputation as the "stinky kid". I also didn't want to be using adult strength deodorant on him so I finally bought him his own special stick.Loumy thinks its great but seeing him putting it on this morning, as I said, first made me laugh because I thought he looked so cute. But then I almost started to cry because I think he already has such a grown up look to his face and I felt like I was peering into the future to see my son as a teenager or a man getting ready to go out with his friends or on a date and it made me realize that this will actually be happening faster than I can begin to imagine right now. I had to go kiss him all over and then squash his head down playfully, as my father often does, and say, "don't grow up! stop getting so big!"

Blackmail Photos

While looking for older photos of Loumy and String Cheese to include in the last post, I ran across these photos. Loumy was about 20 months old. He had a real obsession with hats, shoes, and balls. He still does, but not as much as he did during that time. For his third birthday he had only one request, "CLEATS".

Normally I would dress him myself, but apparently I hadn't dressed him after the last diaper change. In fact, if I recall correctly, I think I had just gone out to throw a stinker in the garbage in the garage and came back in to find that Loumy had gone ahead and dressed himself in the nearest "hat" (one of my bandanas that I had just tossed someplace) and "shoes" that he could find for playing soccer (with my pink and purple ball).

A Special Connection

Here is a picture of String Cheese holding Loumy just minutes after we walked in the door, bringing him home from Haiti.

Recently I have been thinking a lot about siblings that come together in special ways and the cool connections that they can have. My friend, Lori, is adopting from Haiti. She recently went with her husband to visit the little boy they were planning to adopt. Before they left, they decided that there was another child that was meant to be in their family. Their three-year-old son was the one to first make this evident to them (then, I'm sure, they did a lot of praying on their own to have it confirmed to them). Read the super cool story of Malot and Jessica here.

Today I walked out of my bedroom and found String Cheese had dressed her baby brother, Loumy, in his pjs and was reading him a "bedtime" story (although it was early afternoon) while Deedle was still napping I felt grateful for the special bond that those two share. SC has always been a very good big sister to Loumy. There seems to be none of the rivalry that often exists between her and Deedle or Deedle and Loumy. Although she does get frustrated at times, mostly there is just a really super sweet love between SC and Lou. Thinking about Malot and Jessica and seeing this tender little scene in the living room reminded me of the connection that my two children shared before Loumy ever joined our family. And, for this post, I will go ahead and use their real names the rest of the story. Some of you have heard the stories before, but I felt like recording them here:

This was recorded in my journal shortly after my son, Isaiah, passed away in Haiti in Nov of 2004:

"The night I found out about Isaiah’s death I felt that we had probably gone through what we needed and I didn’t picture being able to go forward with another adoption. Grace constantly asked when her baby “brudder” Isaiah was coming home from Haiti. She speaks so well for not even being 3 yet and seems to understand things well. The morning after we learned of Isaiah’s death, Grace saw his picture on the table and asked about him. I said, with tears in my eyes, “Gracie, Isaiah isn’t going to come home from Haiti. He died. That means he lives with Heavenly Father and Jesus now.” Grace became very upset. She said, “No! Go get my baby brudder! I want baby Isaiah to come home from Haiti!” I was surprised at how upset she was. It only made me cry more so I said, “It’s okay, honey. He is really happy with Jesus now.” Grace was still mad, then something came over her and she just turned and walked away.

A few minutes later Jason walked out of the bathroom, having just shaved for work.
“Did you tell Grace Isaiah died?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Did you tell her we were adopting another baby?” he asked.

“No.”

“Well she just came in the bathroom and said, ‘Daddy, baby Isaiah died. He lives with Jesus. Now we need to go get my other baby brudder.’ I told her again that we couldn’t get her baby brother because he lived in Heaven. Grace said, ‘No, Dad, we have to go get my OTHER baby brother. My baby brother Andre.”

Since then we have felt strongly that we will adopt another son and that it will be very good for him to know that he has a brother who is in Heaven that was also born in Haiti. Maybe he will feel a special connection to Isaiah. And it feels as though we are to name him Andre even though we already have an Andre in the family. "

In this photo, Grace starts sharing secrets with Andre just minutes after his arrival home.

When I found out what the name, "Andre" meant, I felt that Grace had been very inspired. Isaiah means, "The Lord is My Salvation". That was very cool to me because I have come to know that through the Plan of Happiness and the Atonement of my Savior, little children that die before they become accountable for their actions are saved. Isaiah has already received salvation through the Lord. The name "Andre" means "strong". That was a big comfort to me. Whenever I would receive a call from the orphanage coordinator, I would immediately become frightened that something had happened to Andre. The fact that Grace knew what his name was to be and that his name meant, "strong" gave me comfort and helped me have faith that he would remain "strong" in mind and body until I could get him out of Haiti and take care of him myself.

Another incident happened just after I got home from visiting Andre for the first time in December of 2004. It was extremely difficult to leave my tiny new son in a crammed orphanage that did the best that they could but did NOT have enough hands. This is what I wrote about after coming home:

The next morning I put the girls in the double-stroller to

go out for a jog. I bundled us all up but it was extremely cold. It was just gray. And it

was silent. The gray and quiet was nice as I jogged along. Then Grace said,

“Mom. What is that crying?” I stopped the stroller and listened. We were down on

the river trail now and all I could hear was the soft rolling of the water.

“What is that crying?” Grace asked again. I said, “I don’t

hear anything, sweetheart.” “Yes,” said Grace. “There is a baby crying. It’s baby Andre.”

I literally crumpled to the ground and sat by the stroller weeping. I sat that way for

quite some time on the cold pavement—looking at my two little toe-heads with their big

blue eyes peering out from bundles of blankets and snowsuits and thinking about

my dark-skinned son 1000s of miles away in an orphanage with out the love

and attention of a mother. Most likely he was crying.

In this photo, Grace and Loumy spend some time getting reacquainted on his first full day home.

Anyway, these stories have always been special to me because I know that sometimes little children are so much more open to the Spirit because they are so pure. I have always loved that these two have such a special connection and hope that it will always be that way for them. Maybe that is why I needed to record this here. Grace and Andre, if you are much older now and are reading this on your own one day, I hope that your Spirit will be touched and you will remember how much you love and care for each other. Always be good to each other. Always be examples. You loved each other before this life. Help each other through this life so that you can make it back to your home, as you promised each other you would do before you came to this Earth. And I will try to help, too!

Loumy 'Dos

I know I have blogged often about Loumy's hair. Sorry, but it is just too fun to not do new things with it and share them. Loumy has learned, like me, to not be defined by his hair. He has had several looks so far this summer.
It started with little braids/dreads:
Then I picked it out and tried to keep it in this cute 'fro for awhile but it was too hard to keep clean. Every night I would find sticks, dog hair, bird nests, hot wheels cars, etc. and it looked pretty gross. But this photos is fresh from a nice bath and picking out job.
Next came my attempt at cornrows. Only took six hours to do. Can you believe he sits through that? I really liked this look but Chancho said he looked like "Point Dexter".
This next style is what Loumy had been asking for since I let him have something similar the year before. The mohawk! Last year I was trimming his hair with the clippers and decided to cut it in a mohawk for fun before shaving off the rest. He glanced in the mirror and his eyes got all huge. "I want it like THAT!" he cried. So, I taught him to say, "I pity the fool that mess with me!" and let him have it for a few days. He has longed for that style again ever since. This one is special because I even flat ironed it. He thought it was super cool. But it was just a little too crazy to last long with me.
His current mohawk is much shorter but still cute and he is still happy with it. People tell him all the time, "Nice mohawk." I don't know if they really mean it is nice or that it is crazy, but Loumy likes it. It is summer. He is three. Why not have a mohawk?

P.S. Isn't he a beautiful child?

Preschool Graduation

Well, it is the time of year that we all write about preschool graduation. Loumy and Deedle both "graduated" (Deedle for the 2nd of 3 times and Loumy for the 1st of 3 times) last Wednesday. I kind of wish it was just called the "end of year program" or something like that so that when they are actually "graduating" from preschool and ready to start kindergarten it will actually mean something. Oh well. It was still very cute and their teacher is wonderful. They looked so adorable in their caps and gowns.One of the coolest things was when the teacher asked her husband to start the music and he turned on some song that sounded like Aerosmith or something (I'm not sure) and just stood there happily, as if that were surely the song his wife was waiting for. After some unsuccessful hand gesturing, teacher emerged, red-faced, from the hall where she and the kids were waiting and switched to the next track, which was actually the traditional commencement song that you should be listening to at this time (turn on your volume, Nancy).

As each child received their diploma, they showed a picture they had drawn of what they want to be when they grow up. The answers were great and nicely varied (they had taken the kids in one by one so as to get an original answer). Some were very funny: "When Matthew grows up, he wants to be a lion." And others were a little too real: "When Payton grows up he wants to be the guy that brings the gas in the truck to the gas station."

You already know what my children want to be when they grow up. Speaking of...yesterday String Cheese was writing me a note and kept asking how to spell certain words. Suddenly Deedle asks, "Mom, when I grow up can you tell me how to spell 'no smoking'?"
Me: Sure. Why?
Deedsy: I want to write it on a sign to put on my candy store.
Me: Okay. But by the time you own your own candy story, you will probably be able to spell it with out me even telling you how.
D (unconvinced): But...I...really do NOT want people smoking in my store and getting it all gross and stinky.
Me: Okay. I promise. I will tell you how to spell "no smoking" whenever you are ready.
D: Thanks.

And that is the end of this post.

Five Things About Loumy

Jami tagged me on this, so I will proceed to share five things about Loumy:

1. He is very athletic. He loves to do anything sporty. He loves soccer, basketball, football, baseball, skateboarding, and, most recently swimming. His teacher calls him her "little fish". It has really come naturally to him. Perhaps its because he's from the Caribbean. The only problem he has is that he can't float on his back very well. His teacher said he is just too lean and heavy. He weighs the same as Deedle does, even though she's nearly a head taller than him. He has no chub, just lean. In this video you will see that he is a fearless little man and that he learns very quickly (especially when it comes to something physical to master).

2. He loves GIRLS. He has been a flirt since...forever. When he was only 10 months old I took him with me to Macy's. All of the make-up counter girls were "ooh-ing and aah-ing over him." He would just smile in my arms, then, he looked at them and blew a kiss. I had just barely taught him to do that when I was leaving to go someplace, but he instinctively knew that it would be appropriate to do to girls that are swooning. Two days ago he told me that he has a girlfriend. I didn't even think he knew what it meant to have a "girlfriend". So, I asked him who it was. He raised his eyebrows and slyly said, "Alyssa," as if he knew EXACTLY what it means to have a girlfriend! I asked him why and he replied because, "she is nice and she is cute." She is in his preschool class and, according to her mother, she has had a crush on him all year long and talks about him constantly. They are really good little buddies and get along really well. They sit by each other at school and play well together. Usually he goes for brunettes (ie. his Aunt Zhateal), but Alyssa is strawberry blonde. He is going to miss her (we won't be going to the same preschool next year). Today while driving in the car, I heard Deedle and String Cheese starting to argue about something. I quickly intervened, "We do NOT ever tell our sisters that they are fat. That is not nice." Loumy softly says, "Alyssa is not fat."
I do like Alyssa but I already had another girl in mind for him. Luckily after our girlfriend conversation, he suddenly smiled very broadly. I asked him why he was smiling and he said that he remembered, "I have TWO girlfriends! Alyssa and Marley!" Yeah. And don't you forget it! Here are a few photos of Alyssa and Loumy today at pre-school graduation (yet, how is it graduation if he has to do it two more times before he even gets to kindergarten?) as well as a photo of Loumy and Marley at a soccer game.3. He likes to dress himself. Because I was tired of picking up the 14 outfits each day that he would change into, we made a rule that he could only change if he asked permission first. Now, the first thing I hear when he wakes me at 7am is, "Mom, can I get dressed in my clothes now?"

4. He has an obsession with big brothers. Every day he asks about 20 times if he can be my big brother. I always say yes. But recently he talks about things that his "big brother" does. His big brother is named Isaiah and its a little creepy because he actually has a big brother, Isaiah, who died before we were able to bring him home from Haiti. I have no doubt that Loumy sees angels and I believe with total certainty that angels administered to him for the first nine months of his life while he lived in an orphanage in pretty appalling circumstances. But I'm not sure about this big brother business. Today when I came in to put him down for a nap I said, "Loumy?! How did this room get so messy? I just cleaned it last night and now there are toys and clothes everywhere!" Without missing a beat he said, "My big brother Isaiah did it."

5. He has a very tender heart. When I hear him crying, 9 times out of 10, its because somebody "hoit (hurt) my feelings". And that is not to say he doesn't get hurt physically with all of his crazy boy stunts (I saw him teetering on his skateboard at the top of the slide the other day, about ready to give it a try before I stopped him). He loves to give hugs and kisses and when I give him a kiss out-of-the-blue he always smiles and says, "thank you." If one of his sisters does a little dance or sings a song, he always compliments them. He is just very sensitive and sweet.

I like this little "tag" thing because it gave me a chance to focus on the positives. I have such fantastic kids and a wonderful husband. But if I don't watch out, it is easy to focus on behaviors that need changing. And then I always have to remind myself that what you are looking for is usually what you will find. So, when I try to think about all the great things about my family, I remember how blessed I am to have such incredible people in my life.

I will now tag a kid that I don't know very well and would like to read more about: Grayson!

It Actually Worked

Sitting at the computer this morning, I think I might like to just, you know, read a few e-mails and blogs and stuff. If you ever see the hour of my postings, you know that usually only occurs AFTER all is quiet in the house (about midnight).

So, I am reading and I hear a lot of crying coming from Loumy and, from his tone, I know he has been excluded from his sisters' play. Sure enough, when he stops crying enough for me to interpret his languishings, I discover that there was no place for him on the "Nickelodeon Cruise Ship" game the girls have just invented. As I listen to his complaints, I notice Loumy's fingernails. Gross.

"Hey, Loumy!" I say quietly to him and with a big smile. "Do NOT tell the girls. I have something really cool for just the two of us! Go up and find your secret, special nail clippers and quietly come back to me and I will trim your nails!"

He pauses and looks suspicious. But I persist.

"But you CANNOT tell the girls about this. You have to be very sneaky as you get the clippers. Go, now! Quickly! But quietly!"

And...it actually works! I look over at Chancho (at work on his own computer). He just shrugs and is as shocked as I am that Loumy fell for it.

Shortly thereafter, the girls are begging for some Gatorade because it is so "freaking hot" on their cruise ship. I use this as leverage to get Loumy in on the action.

"But there is nothing for him to 'be' on the cruise ship!" String Cheese protests.

"What do you mean?" I cry. "Don't you know anything about the Pacific Princess Cruise Ship? That is the best cruise ship and there is room for everybody on it. He could be a bartender, you know, the one to bring the Gatorade."
All was agreed and soon Loumy was not only the lowly bartender but the captain of the ship! And now I am blogging about it in the coolness of my quiet basement because instead of yelling and putting everybody in time-out, I was very astute and it actually worked!

Another 'Do

Nancy asked me what Loumy's hair looked like after telling her that it took me six hours (in two separate sittings) to complete. So, here it is. I feel no need to apologize for bragging about my son. Hopefully when he is older and reads about my gushing here, he will remember more about how much I love him and less about the times that I lose my temper.

I think if anybody had ever told me that one day this beautiful boy would be mine, I couldn't have believed that I would be so blessed. He has such a tender heart. He has such a cool sense of style. Yes, I buy his clothing, but he usually dresses himself and ends up doing a great job. I mean, check out this outfit. He put it together himself, complete with his backpack worn the same way that Diego wears his. And he requested the hairstyle. He tries to come get in bed with me every night during the middle of the night to cuddle and is sometimes successful at getting by Molly. He can't pronounce his "r"s. He asks me this question EVERY SINGLE DAY, sometimes up to 15 times per day, "Mom, can I be your big brother?" My answer is always yes. Sometimes he then asks me to name him. Once that is done, he runs off to play. Sometimes I choose his name (most recently he was Uncle Rico for a few days). Sometimes he gives me choices ("Do you want me to be Derek, Bosco, or Steven?"). He loves sports. Anything to do with a ball is interesting to him and he wants to try it. He can crash on his bike three times during one ride and still get back on (thank goodness for helmets!). He gets along well with other children. He likes to make his sisters happy. He likes to tease his sisters, especially getting their goat by copying whatever they say. He always asks, "Can us...?" Instead of, "Can we...?" He loves to snuggle. He sits still for six hours to get his hair done. He learns things very quickly and is starting to write letters. He is in awe when he gets to be around older boys. He thinks his older cousins are super cool and always talks about them but then gets shy when he is around them so they think he might not like them (ie. big Andre and Beau). He likes to pretend that his shoes are roller blades. He prays every night and "thanks" Heavenly Father that my hair will grow back and that he will get two skateboards. I think of the whole family, his prayers are usually the most sincere and thought out. He thanks God for what has happened that day that made him happy and he always includes, "Thank you for my Mommy and my Daddy and my Sistuhs." I love this boy so much that sometimes I think my heart will explode.

New 'Do

I took Loumy to Stacey's "Hands of Champions" Beauty College this afternoon to see if his hair was long enough for corn-rows. They were a bit worried that it was too short, but it still turned out really cool and Loumy sat nicely on my lap for nearly 2 hours. What a good sport! There was good and bad news after. We got in the car and drove to my in-laws for a gathering and when we got out Loumy had pulled out one of the braids already! I was about to cry but then I sat down and tried to re-do it myself. I did it! So, now I think next time I will just try to do it myself--although the students only charge $1.50 per braid so you can't really go wrong at that price.

Coolest Kid in Class

Loumy loves preschool. He asks at least 30 times each morning, "Do I have preschool today?" If he's just been to preschool or if he is having dinner or getting ready for bed or needs an excuse for getting out of bed he'll say, "I need to ask you something. Do I have pwe-skoo to-MOY-oh (tomorrow)?" I always ask him to repeat himself when he says "tomorrow" because I love how he says it. Usually an "r" is just skipped or sounds like "w" but in this specific word it is different. Tomoyo.

A few days ago, while I was on the computer, Loumy came in and we had this conversation:
Loumy: Do I have preschool today?
Me: Yes, but not yet.
Loumy: I'm the coolest kid in the class.
Me: Naturally. But what is it that makes you the coolest kid in the class?
Loumy: I know how to fight pirates.
Me: Of course.
A brief pause.
Loumy: Mom, did you used to be a cool kid?
Me: Yes.
Loumy: Like a boy?
Me: Not exactly. Let me take your picture.

Then he posed. Cool? Yes. I think so.