Author: kacinpoint

You know how some people have meticulously organized drawers and closets, while others have meticulously clean countertops and furniture? Well, my drawers and closets are pretty organized.

what does favor look like?

On By kacinpoint2 Comments

Psalm 90:17 Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands; yes, establish the work of our hands!

The dictionary defines favor as:

-a gift bestowed as a token of goodwill, kind regard, love, etc., as formerly upon a knight by his lady.
–excessive kindness or unfair partiality; preferential treatment
Disclaimer: This post is NOT about autism.
We’re almost to the end of Autism Awareness/Acceptance Month and I have yet to write a single post about autism.  Yes, I do have two children on the autism spectrum.  And yes, I do have a passion for the world to be more aware/accepting of the stimmers amongst us.  Truth is: my life has changed and my character has been refined in more ways that I could possibly put in writing, just because two precious stimmers call me, “Mama”.
When Seth was diagnosed with autism I struggled with all the typical feelings a Mom experiences when coming to terms with the fact that her child’s future might not look exactly like what she’s envisioned.  Grief, guilt, anger, fear, and eventually acceptance.  That last one being key to all that was to come…
Between 2004 and 2009 our family learned to embrace autism.  Sometimes we embraced it gently and lovingly.  And sometimes we squeezed the crap out of it like we were juicing an orange, just hoping that something sweet and palatable was coming next.  Somewhere along that journey, autism became ours.  Like a birthmark, or quick wit, or chocolatey brown eyes, autism is just another descriptor of our family.  It is not a handicap or limitation or anything exceptional.  It just is.
I believe that our acceptance that autism “just is” prepared us for the day we were called to adopt Sofija.  September 13, 2009 we were driving home from church and Steven Curtis Chapman was on the radio.  There was a rare moment of silence in our car as we listened to SCC describe his family’s call to adopt terminally ill children.  I began to weep and told my husband that I don’t think I could ever do that.  Silent pause. He replied, “No, but we could adopt a child with autism.”  Four days later we learned that our daughter (who just happens to have autism) was waiting for us in a place called Serbia that we actually had to find a world map.
Following that one little tug at our hearts to add a little girl to our family through adoption has led me down a path that I never could have scripted or predicted.  That one not so simple act of obedience exposed me to favor.  That favor is a like a drug.  There is absolutely no greater satisfaction than walking in the favor of God.
That verse and definition at the beginning of this post is my heart’s cry.  I want to see every single thing that I put my hands to as a privilege.  I don’t know about you, but I enjoy preferential treatment.  I like having doors opened for me and I love it when someone else picks up the check.  I’m sharing this because I haven’t taken the time to document what favor has looked like in my life over the last several months.  It needs to be documented.
Adopting Sofija led me down a path to a round table discussion on human trafficking in Dallas, Texas in January of 2011.  You can read all about that experience here.  Being obedient to the simple command God gave me at that event led to my mission trip to Serbia in April of that same year.  That entire trip was filled with doors being opened and God picking up the check.
Between April of 2011 and December of 2012, I was tired.  I experienced more loss than I could process in those twenty months and (to be honest) I had a hard time seeing open doors or favor through the pool of grief I was swimming in.  And then….
In the first week of 2013 I learned that one of my Facebook friends is working for one of my favorite authors.  I then learned that this author has a mentoring program.  Before I even really knew what the program was about, I heard the words, “Just apply, Kaci.”  So I did.  And… I was accepted.  To make the acceptance a little sweeter, I received the message while standing in line at a grocery store.  I’ve always hated grocery stores.  One of my most traumatic childhood experiences happened in a grocery store when I was five years old.  For the last thirty-six years, I’ve equated shopping for groceries with trauma.
Two weeks after getting that acceptance message I returned to the grocery store.  Guess what?  For the first time in my life, I was at peace shopping for groceries.  I walked up and down each aisle and laughed out loud occasionally at the realization that God not only opened the door for me to be mentored by someone who I have the utmost respect for, but He healed a very old wound and redeemed another piece of my life in the process.  He’s just good like that.
The very same day that I enjoyed grocery shopping I was offered the opportunity to attend Summit9.  Summit is the biggest event in the US focused on caring for orphans.  They have speakers and workshops that cover everything from starting an orphan ministry in your church to caring for traumatized children to working with foreign governments to bring about change.  I have dreamed of attending for several years, but there has always been a schedule conflict or a lack of resources.  Several people have asked me if I was going to attend this year.  Each time I was asked, my heart would leap for a moment and then settle back into its place of disappointment as I replied with a simple, “No.”  And then…
I get a text message that says, “Sooo is money the only thing keeping you from Summit?”  And then a few seconds later, “Because I am being sponsored… There is enough left that I could cover your registration and airfare.  And Ch***** has Hilton points so you’d have access to a free hotel room.”  My absolutely amazing super-hero of a husband said, “Sounds like God wants you to go.”  So yeah, I’m going.  If I had designed a dream curriculum of workshops that address all of the issues we’ve faced with Sofija and throughout our adoption journey, it would consist of the exact workshops I will be attending.  F-A-V-O-R!  Oh, one more thing about Summit… I’m going to the bloggers’ breakfast on Friday May 3rd.  Blogger friends, talk to me if you’re there.
I really thought the mentoring gig and the Summit opportunity were about as much favor as this old girl could handle.  But, no.
Isaiah 55:8-9 “My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord.
    “And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine. 
For just as the heavens are higher than the earth,so my ways are higher than your waysand my thoughts higher than your thoughts.
I like to think it’s human nature, but who knows?  Maybe it’s just me.  I’m referring to my tendency to put God in a box.  I get a little glimpse of a plan He has for me and then I tap into my weak, inadequate imagination to fill in all the details.  I assume that I know exactly what the big picture looks like and that I have the wisdom to map out the path to accomplish the plan.  I forget that His ways are far beyond anything I could imagine and that His thoughts are
NOTHING like my thoughts.
I need to give a little background before going into the “far beyond anything you could imagine” details of the last few days.  Over a year ago I wrote a piece on abortion and my belief that The Church needs to offer love and grace and healing to women who’ve had abortions.  While I was still in the midst of loss and grief I received an invitation to attend a conference in Serbia May 24-25 of this year on abortion healing.  I was also asked to speak at a conference on human trafficking in Serbia around the same time and then asked to meet with a group who are interested in opening an autism center in Belgrade.  Seriously?!  Having an opportunity to address three of my biggest passions, in the same week, in my second favorite nation…  I didn’t see how my purpose this year could get much better.  But something strange happened as I began to plan for my trip.  I didn’t have peace.  I should have been bouncing off the walls with excitement.  Instead I found it hard to even look up airfare.  Something just didn’t feel right.
On the day before my joyful grocery shopping and Summit gift, I sent a message to the young man putting together the conference on human trafficking.  He quickly responded that they had lost their funding for the conference in May, but were offered sponsorship to put on a larger conference in October.  I immediately knew that I was to attend the October event.  After talking with my husband I decided to shorten the trip in May so that I can still attend the SaveOne conference.  I will return in October and walk through whatever doors God opens while I’m there.  Knowing that I would only be gone for a few days at the end of the month, made it a little more palatable for my dear hubby when I talked to him about going away for Summit at the beginning of the month…. God knew.
One week ago, as I was booking a rental car for Summit, my friend Marci asked if I would attend a discussion on “Human Trafficking in America” at the National Press Club.  That event was last night (April 22nd) at 6pm.  She also asked me to forward the invite to anyone I thought may be interested in attending.  I immediately thought of two people and just before I hit send on the forwarded invite, I prayed.  “God, is there anyone else I should invite?”  My first thought was of the lady I met in Dallas in January of 2011.  I added her name, sent the invite, and sat with my mouth open for a while when I got her response a few minutes later.  It contained a separate invitation to a round table discussion on human trafficking at the Ukrainian embassy… that just happened to be yesterday (April 22nd) at 3:30pm.  Marci and I were able to attend both events.  F-A-V-O-R!  Divine connections were made and man-power and resources were promised to support the human trafficking conference in Serbia this October.  I’m still processing it all.
At both events there were two questions everyone asked as they shook your hand, “Who (what organization) are you with?”  “Do you have a card?”  Being asked these questions by government officials and company presidents and foreign dignitaries could have pointed out just how unqualified and inadequate I am to do anything great for God.  But that was not the case.  Something interesting happened.  When people asked who I was with, I simply said that God brought me.  Everyone was able to take my name, number, and email address on their notepad or add it to their contact list in their phone.  The fact that my affiliation was the Big Man himself, did not stop a single person from wanting to come alongside me.
One verse has been in my face for the last few weeks…
Galatians 6:4  Pay careful attention to your own work, for then you will get the satisfaction of a job well done, and you won’t need to compare yourself to anyone else.
Part of my tendency to put God in a box involves looking around at people who’ve accomplished things I hope to accomplish and assume that my journey should look like theirs.  Immediately after walking into the Ukrainian embassy yesterday I panicked.  Although no one in that room is doing or has done the things that God has allowed me to do, I assumed that there was no purpose in me being there because I had no title to offer and no stack of business cards to hand out.
I am simply a woman who has witnessed women and children living in slavery across three continents.  In 1999 I, along with a small team of other military wives, rescued a young pregnant girl who was trafficked from the Philippines to South Korea.  In 2000, our family vacationed in Thailand. We spent our first week on the island Koh Samui.  A 50ish year old man was staying in our hotel with the two young girls he had purchased for his stay.  Neither of the girls was older than fourteen.  We traveled from the island to the capital city where I walked the streets of Bangkok and had children no older than six or seven hand me flyers listing what sexual services they could provide and at what cost.  I returned to our apartment in South Korea and lied awake night after night listening to the cries of the dozen or so Russian girls who were enslaved in the apartment above us.  In 2010, we adopted a little girl from Serbia.  The first question we were asked by her foster family was if we planned to prostitute her.  I now live in northern Virginia (just outside of Washington, DC).  Last year a local man was arrested and later convicted for trafficking girls from the high school that my children attend.  I am simply a woman who has seen too much of the ugly in the world.  I am completely surrendered to God’s plan to use me to do something about all that ugly.  And… while I do think it’s time for me to launch a non-profit ministry,  I always want my answer to the question, “Who are you with?” to be… “God!”
Psalm 90:17 Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands; yes, establish the work of our hands!

broken…. again

On By kacinpointLeave a comment

It has been nearly four years since I got the call from my doctor telling me that I am cancer-free.  In that four years, A LOT of living has happened.  Living is good.  God gave me life to be lived.  He healed me so that I could get busy doing the things He put me on this planet to do.  In all my living, I sometimes forget just what a big deal it is that I am healed.  I sometimes forget all that I have to be thankful for.

And then… I open my laptop and see that Roger Ebert has lost his battle with the exact same kind of cancer that I had.  And suddenly I remember.  I remember the exact moment in 2010 when I learned about his cancer and then I remember the brokenness and gratitude I experienced in the wake of that realization.  I remember that on March 10, 2010 I had a very real awakening to the gift that is my life.  So I open my blog and search.  There it is…

https://bringinganahome.wordpress.com/2010/03/21/gratitude/

Thank you, God, for occasionally bringing me to my knees in remembrance of what you’ve done for me.

stop the yelling!!!

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I’ve had many big gaps in my blog posts over the last year.  I haven’t stopped writing.  Life has just been a little ugly and the writing I’ve done didn’t need to be shared with the whole wide world.  Some of that ugliness has revolved around Sofija.  She has had big regression in her behavior and many new behaviors have shown up.  Because of our history with having things used against her (and our whole family), I choose not to share the really hard stuff.

My dear hubby sometimes calls me “Tenacious K”.  I don’t give up on things, people, ideas, goals.  I just don’t.  It’s a blessing and it’s a curse, but it’s who I am.  In my tenacity to help Sofija reach her full potential and be the amazing world-changer God created her to be, I have read more books on attachment parenting and parenting traumatized children than most professionals who treat the children diagnosed with RAD and PTSD.  Some of the books I’ve read were obviously written by people who have never actually spent time at home with a child who was neglected and traumatized early in life.  Those books are filled with all these ideals of enforcing consequences and using reasoning and rational thought to parent your adopted child.  Ummm….. have you ever tried to reason with an autistic child who is self-destructing? I have.  They don’t really care what rational thoughts you’re trying to share and it’s almost impossible to come across as rational when you’re chasing them across the street and through the front door of a neighbor who has no clue who you are.  “Come on, Sweetie.  Let’s go home.  It’s not a good idea to run away from Mama when we’re getting in the car and it’s never a good idea to run through the front door of a house where you don’t know the occupants or what weapons they protect their house with.”  Sounds PERFECTLY rational… Right?!

The best books I’ve read are based on the premise that “Love never fails.”  I have always told my children that they “are the only variable in any situation”.  The variable in an algebra equation is the thing that can be manipulated and changed.  None of us has any power to change another person.  We only have the power to change ourselves.  The books that have made a difference in my parenting skills are the ones who remind me that I have to change me and my reactions.  They all say the same thing…. Everything I do is based out of love or based out of fear.  the opposite of love is not hate.  The opposite of love is fear. If I want to react to my children on the basis of love I have to stop worrying about them making bad choices.  I can’t be afraid of what other people think of them or of me as a mother.  I can’t be afraid that they will make the same mistakes in life that I made.  I can’t be afraid that every risky behavior is going to end or drastically alter their lives.  Love and fear just cannot coexist. Period.  1 John 4:18 ESV There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.

So…. I’m attempting to react to everyone in my house on the basis of love.  This is not such an easy feat.  I am the oldest of five children.  I’ve always believed that I would not be heard unless I spoke loudly.  My husband is Italian and our last name ends in a vowel.  Yelling is what we do.  But yelling is not loving.  I can’t remember ever feeling loved when someone yelled at me.  I want my children to always feel loved. I have to let go of my fear of not being heard.  I have to let go of my fear that my children will fail epically if I do not speak loud enough to make them stop what they’re doing.  Now that I think about it.  I can’t remember my yelling ever being very effective at stopping them from making bad choices.  It may have made them angry or given them a reason to be sneaky, but it certainly didn’t make them want to be good.

This morning I discovered Orange Rhino Mom.  This woman has four boys and she set out on a mission 421 days ago to not yell for an entire year.  421 days later… she’s still not yelling.  Her journey is amazing and filled with great life lessons.  If you are thinking about starting this love-based, non-yelling journey with me, I encourage you to read her Q&A on getting started and 10 Things She learned When She Stopped Yelling at Her Kids.  

And then… if you’re really serious about joining me on my journey, I encourage you to go to THIS LIST.  Print out several copies.  Laminate them or put them in page protectors and post them in all the places you are likely to have your buttons pushed.  People, if we can’t find a loving alternative to yelling out of the 100 options on that list, then we have absolute confirmation that our children are not the source of our anger or lack of self-control.

Let’s get busy loving our families.

1 Corinthians 13:4-8  Love is patient, love is kind, it isn’t jealous, it doesn’t brag, it isn’t arrogant, it isn’t rude, it doesn’t seek its own advantage, it isn’t irritable, it doesn’t keep a record of complaints, it isn’t happy with injustice, but it is happy with the truth. Love puts up with all things, trusts in all things, hopes for all things, endures all things.  LOVE NEVER FAILS…

8 years ago…

On By kacinpoint2 Comments

Eight years ago today, a woman who had four older children that were all being raised by other mothers, showed up at a hospital in Belgrade, Serbia, in labor.  I do not know her pregnancy story or her delivery story or what led to her being transferred to a psychiatric hospital for two weeks following delivery, or why she never came back to see the baby she delivered.  What I do know, is that in a nation where the abortion rate is nearly triple the birthrate, she chose life for a baby girl who would eventually find her way into my heart.  She gave my daughter life.

My own eighth birthday was one of my favorite.  My Mom bought me the 2-piece bathing suit I’d been eying at the local department store (Godchaux) and my grandmother bought me the biggest frilliest blue dress I’d ever seen and put my hair up in Princess Leia buns.  Lots of cousins and friends and aunts and uncles were there to celebrate me.  I clearly remember feeling special and loved.

Today, my goal is to give Sofija that same assurance.  I want the little girl who does not have a clear story of the beginning of her life to have a clear knowledge that she is a gift from God.  I want her to know that she is incredibly, unconditionally, loved.  I’m making her the chocolate cupcakes and macaroni and cheese she requested and I’ll gladly buy her a big bag of funny-ons (Funyons).

I wish I could thank the lady who gave her life.  I wish I could tell her that no matter how hard it was to carry Sofija in her womb and deliver her into this world, she did the right thing.  She did a good thing.

In honor of Sofija’s eight years of life, I ask that you take a few moments and read THIS POST by fellow special needs adoptive blog Mommy Adeye.  James 1:27 NLT Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means CARING FOR ORPHANS and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you. (emphasis mine)

Sofija still wears the scars of being left in her own waste.   Her voice closely resembles someone who smokes a carton of cigarettes a day presumably because of the countless hours she cried as a baby with nobody to respond to her cries.  She carries the emotional wounds and subsequent behaviors of a child who lacked nurturing in the crucial early years of her life.  And yet…. she is a gift.  She has blessed our family and everyone who has the privilege of knowing her.  I believe that she has an amazing life ahead of her.

Psalm 127:3 Children are a gift from the Lord;
they are a reward from him. 

Thank you, Sofija’s birth Mom, for giving our daughter the gift of life.  Happy 8th Birthday, Baby Girl!  It’s an honor to have you call me, “Mama”.  I pray that today you feel special.  That you feel celebrated.  That you know without a doubt, that you are incredibly LOVED.

a season of grace

On By kacinpoint2 Comments

Growing up in south Louisiana is a privilege.  I’ve been around the world and I’ve experienced no culture, food, or people, quite like those of my home.  In south Louisiana Mardi Gras is a season.  Much like Black Friday and tree sales initiating the Christmas season, I grew up with king cakes, parades, and Mardi Gras balls initiating the Lenten season.

As a little girl I wanted so badly to be Catholic.  I was just about the only kid in elementary school who didn’t ‘get to’ go to catechism.  We were (still are) non-denominational Christians and listening to the other kids plan out and talk about their catechism carpools and the mean nuns left me feeling like a red-headed step-child  (no offense to my ginger friends).  I wanted my own rosary and I wanted to see my friends get hit on the back of their hands with a ruler by a nun when they talked during prayer.  king-cake

I eventually got over the desire to be Catholic and decided to just embrace the parts of Catholicism that I found enjoyable and comforting.  Even so, not living in Louisiana for more than twenty years means that I’ve missed out on being immersed in the season.  For many years I whined about missing the parades and having to make my own kingcakes.  And then, a few years ago, I realized that I was not only missing all the fun aspects of the Mardi Gras season. I was missing the reverent aspects of the Lenten season as well.  Although I had been one of the few non-Catholic kids in school, just living in Baton Rouge meant that I didn’t have meat in the cafeteria on Fridays and that I didn’t have school at all the week of Mardi Gras and Ash Wednesday.  And, even though my Mom would explain to me every year from the time I was six that I “didn’t have to”, I still gave up something every year for Lent.  I had to have something to add to the playground conversations and to be honest, I liked the discipline of the giving up.  I still do. I fast from various things at various times throughout the year and I am always blown away at the really BIG WAYS that God shows up when I’m giving something up and replacing that something with Him.

A few years ago, during the Lenten season, something amazing happened.  While I was in Lake Charles, Louisiana caring for my grandmother, my dear hubby was home in Virginia studying all things Ressurectionish.  I returned home to find a mezuzah attached to the frame of our front door and a book laying on the kitchen counter telling how to prepare the Passover Seder.  My former Catholic, very Italian husband, got in touch with his Jewish roots.  He found a desire to honor the beauty of Christ’ life, death, and resurrection in physical, tangible ways.

As dear hubby and I gave homage to all things Christ-centered, we talked to our children about the Lenten season and the crucifixion and the resurrection.  We reminded them over and over that all of it was for grace.  That Christ did not just come to earth and live as a man and die FOR us, but AS us.  We told them that he felt pain and misery and abuse so that we could let go of those things when they happen to us.  We told them that he was tortured and beaten for every wrong thing that any of us would ever do.  We told them that he conquered death so that all of those wrongs would not have the power to dictate how we live our lives.  We told them that he died for our freedom.  He died for our redemption.  He died because he loves us.  He died for grace.

Romans 8:38-39 And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.

We’ve told our children these things throughout their lives, but grace and love and freedom are so much bigger than what can be told. They must be shown.

Yes, my children know what this season is about. But the same year that my husband found his Jewish roots, I found myself burdened. I want my kids to experience Christ, not just know about him. I desire more than anything for grace and freedom to be part of their identities, not just part of their knowledge base.  I knew all about Jesus when I was a teenager, but I was clueless when it came to grace and freedom and unconditional love.  Unfortunately, my lack of understanding led me to believe that choices I made could never be forgiven. My lack of experience with the realness of Christ’ sacrifice led to years of running and self-destruction.

I want more for my children. God, let them know!  Let them know how BIG your love is.  Let them know how BIG your grace is. Let them walk in freedom every day of their lives. Give them total understanding that NOTHING can separate them from your love. Give me wisdom in showing them these things. Amen.

John 15:13 There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

When I was giving up something for Lent as a child I appreciate that my Mom made it clear that I had free will and that I did not have to.  But I really wish she had taken the time to teach me what Lent was about.  I wish I had known that the “giving up” was in honor of what Christ gave up for us.  I really wish that I had had some tangible symbolic activity that I could connect to scripture as a reminder that freedom and love and grace are mine for the taking.  But I didn’t.  And now… I have a chance to redeem my story.  I have four (not-so) little people in my care that I CAN provide with a tangible symbolic activity that can be tied to scripture.  In my endeavor to find that activity, I came across this blogpost by Ann Voskamp.  Read it.  Be inspired.  repentence box

On New Year’s Eve 2012, we had a little party at our house.  Instead of having people sit around and discuss or write down their hopes, dreams, aspirations, and resolutions for 2013, I gave everyone a couple of index cards and a pen at 11:30pm.  I asked everyone to go find a quiet spot and write down ALL of the things that they would like to leave behind in 2012.  And then… just before midnight, we put our cards, one-by one, in the fireplace and watched them burn.

For the last few years, as an attempt to SHOW what Holy Week is all about, I build a repentance box. Our family (and friends who stop by during the week) write out our bad choices, our pains, every ounce of unforgiveness. All the junk Christ carried to the grave, we place it in the box and let it go.  And just before midnight, on the Saturday before Resurrection Sunday, we will turn it all to ash.

Happy Season of Grace!

Go build your box. 😀

VICTORY!!

On By kacinpointLeave a comment

I received the following announcement from the anti-trafficking organization in Serbia.  Every victory counts and this one is a BIG WIN!  I can’t wait to be travel there in May and speak at a conference on human-trafficking…. God is moving mountains!

First instance judgment issued to an organized criminal group for trafficking in human beings

 

Special Department of the Higher Court in Belgrade, Serbia has issued first-instance judgment finding four persons guilty as co-perpetrators of trafficking in human beings, Article 388 Para 7 in connection with Para 1 and 3 of the Criminal Code of Serbia. Members of the group are accused of recruiting girls from Serbia on several occasions during 2011, transferring them to Italy, where they were kept against their will and sexually exploited. For less than a year, six girls, including two who were underage, fall victims to human trafficking in this way. The court sentenced the accused M.M to prison term of 15 years, whereas Ž.S was sentenced to 13 years, P.T. to 10.5 and V.Đ. to 10 years in prison. If the judgment becomes final and enforceable, they will also be required to pay the amount of EUR 55,000 to the budget of the Republic of Serbia on the account of gain acquired through committing the offense. This is one of the strictest penalties rendered to human traffickers in Serbia so far.

 

Work on this case is an example of successful cooperation of the Prosecutor’s Office for Organized Crime, Counter-Organized Crime Service and Higher Prosecutor’s Office in Belgrade. Since appropriate penalizing of perpetrator is necessary in order to combat human trafficking, we hope that this judgment will be affirmed by the higher court. This is the first human trafficking case accepted by the Prosecutor’s Office for Organized Crime after long time. As trafficking is a serious and organized crime, we hope to see more examples of good practice in prosecution and punishment of human traffickers.


have you ever ate the sea?

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Sofija has this new fascination with going through the pantry and reading every single label on every single package.  Out loud.  It’s quite annoying precious.

For the last two days she’s been sick.  She and her sister and her big brother are all sick. I started suspecting yesterday that they have strep so I made appointments for all three of them to see the doctor this morning.  While we were sitting there waiting for the results of the rapid strep tests, Sofija threw her hands up and announced, “I want to eat the sea!”  I asked her if she was just being silly.  She responded by throwing her hands up again and exclaiming, “No!  I want to eat OF THE SEA!”  As I sat there wondering if the pediatrician was thinking that my daughter is completely out of touch with reality, she said it again.  “I want to eat OF THE SEA.”  At that point I asked her if she was talking about tuna.  “Yes, Mama!  I want to eat tuna OF THE SEA.”  Remember that episode of Newlyweds where Jessica Simpson didn’t know that Chicken of the Sea was tuna? Yep.  That’s exactly where my mind went.  Sofija knew it was tuna.  Just sayin’.