Stuck with My Family

In spite of the fact that I ribbed TeacherMommy in my last post about tagging me again, I've decided to take on the weekly meme from Heart of the Matter. The question to address is What Makes My Family Unique?

At first glance that's a hard one for me because, really, what's so unique about us anyway? It used to be that a homeschooling family was somewhat of a novelty, but nowadays everyone knows someone who homeschools. Just ask any cashier at Wal-Mart who has questioned me about why I'm out in the middle of the morning with the kids; they'll always nod with complete understanding when I explain we homeschool: "Oh, yeah, I have a neighbor who has a cousin who has a brother who homeschools." Church-going families are not unique, although I wish there were more of them out there. And missionary families are certainly not hard to come by: just check my Facebook friends list; I've just about found all of my long lost MK friends.

So what makes my family unique? Well, as paradoxical as it sounds, the same thing that makes every family unique: its members.

Alex, my first born, is sweet, compassionate, responsible, and smart. She is a walking encyclopedia and reads the Dictionary for fun; you don't ever, ever argue trivia with her. Her compassion shines when it comes to helping anyone less fortunate. In fact, she wants to be a "Shoebox Person" when she grows up. Translation: someone who works for Operation Christmas Child. She is sensitive and always sees the need around her. Her sensitivity shows through in her emotions, though not uncontrollably so; she does not easily get her feelings hurt because she has a quiet confidence about her that combats any self-pity. Rather, her sensitivity comes spilling out at appropriate times. I remember reading a Christmas book to her when she was two. In the book, the old Christmas tree laments that he is never chosen by people to be taken to their homes to decorate. As I read, I looked down at my little girl and saw one big crocodile tear rolling down her cheek. Alex was by far our easiest baby and is still so flexible and agreeable to whatever life may throw at her.

Michael is my funny little man. He loves a good practical joke or magic trick and has many of them up his sleeve. He is not at all about all things academic like his sister; however, his mind never seems to slow down. Ideas spill from his little head at an alarming rate, sometimes ideas that get him into trouble but more often now as he is older, ideas that lead to amazing creations with Legos or paper. Michael has a bit more than just a speck of drama thrown in to his DNA. That drama sometimes just shines through as a sparkle in his eye, but other times it can mean a full-fledged, dramatic battle of the wills. During any such fight, should he come out on the losing end, it isn't surprising to see him head off to his bed or some other secluded spot to engage in a grand Pouting Party. We've learned it's just best to let him party it out of his system. And then he's OK again. When not hosting a Pity Party, Michael is absolutely the life of the party and just oozes energy.

Jacob is my mysterious child. He is most difficult to figure out, and I pray lots of prayers that as he grows we will find increasing opportunities to get to know one another. Incredibly shy, few people know Jacob at all. In fact, when his Sunday School teachers come visit us here at home, their jaw drops as they witness this exuberant, fiesty little boy interact at home. Most children experience about six months of separation anxiety. Our boy experienced 5 1/2 years of it. In the last year, he has become so confident and will go to Sunday School and even choir practice all by himself. He still has little to say to others, but at least he is coming out of his shell. What's funny about this little guy is that he is so reserved, yet he is obviously paying close attention to everything and has a lot going on in his mind because he says the funniest thing. He is always the first to use big words. "That's outrageous!" he'll say, or "I'm flabbergasted." Yesterday, a conversation with his grandparents somehow circled around to Disney World (as it often does). "I went on It's a Small World," he explained. "and I fell off the boat and started to scream. So they arrested me and threw me in jail where I had to sleep for months on a hard, cold stone floor with a brick for my pillow." Where does he come up with this? Hopefully, as I get to know him better, I'll figure it out.

Audrey, sweet little Audrey. She was a surprise, and I don't usually like surprises, but I can't imagine life without this affectionate, charming little girl. She, like Michael, has just a touch of the dramatics. And also a sparkle in her eyes. She is the most affectionate of any of our children, making bedtime a very long drawn out time of butterfly kisses, eskimo kisses, mommy kisses, hugs, and more butterfly kisses. She loves her brothers and sister, and they love her back. She is all girl and loves anything pink, shiny, flittery, glittery, or frilly. She is so much fun to watch, to talk to, and to hang out with.

And as for the Mr. and I, I suppose our uniqueness is in our story. We share the same birthday, although he is 3 years older. He was born at a little mission hospital in Africa where a couple years later my father went to work as a pharmacist. I called this little town with a big name--Ferkessedougou--home until I graduated from boarding school in a bigger town with a smaller name--Bouake--the same school Mark attended. I met him when I was in third grade. And, no, we weren't high school sweethearts. And, no, this was not an arranged marriage, although there's no one better in this world that my parents could have chosen for me if it had been. There are benefits, though, to having grown up with your future husband: One, we know ALL the dirt on each other; and two, we share not only the bonds of our matrimonious love for each other, but also an understanding for what it means to have grown up in a different country with a different culture.

Even though my parents did not arrange the marriage between me and the most wonderful man in the world, they did used to tell me I was special because they got to choose me through adoption rather than just being stuck with me (I may or may not have added the "stuck" part over the years; sometimes I embellish a little.) Well, I got stuck with 4 children, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, had I done the choosing, I could not have done it any better.