Comfort of the Fuzz Therapists

Saying "goodbye" to our two little darlings was one of the hardest things ever! What in the world are my daughters-to-be doing halfway around the world? I want to go get them right now! Too many tears at the airport.


Jesus, please protect them from discouragement, evil and mean people. Let us get there quickly for their sakes (okay, mine too).

Today the house is too quiet.

In times like these, I turn to my ever-ready, highly-trained, fuzz therapists. These compact professionals are standing by to remind me during these very emergencies that life is, indeed, good and all will be well.

Today, I need my fuzz therapists.

Cindy, HTFT (Highly Trained Fuzz Therapist)

Chew on This

I watched Nastia take a bite of a small piece of watermelon. She doesn't have an under bite but she chews that way. We had taken them both to the dentist, just for a look, earlier that summer. He told us that Sasha has fillings (though poor ones). Her decay would be lost over the next year because they were inhabiting baby teeth. Nastia had no fillings and 6 cavities that were, indeed, causing her not a little discomfort.
I borrowed Heidi's host kid teens to play with Sash and told Nast that we were going somewhere together. On the way, I told Nastia that Ukraine dentists were not so good and American dentists were good and that I wanted to help her teeth not hurt so much. She accepted that.
She was amazing. A little nitrous oxide and one hour later and we went home without so much as a whimper. After the Novocaine wore off, she wanted to know WHEN WE CAN GO BACK! I had already made a second appt for this week. She practically jumped up and down! "I hurt here and here and here," she said. "Okay, I'll tell him that."
After the second appt today, she said she has no more pain.
Good dentists. Just another blessing we take for granted.

Life with the Koopatzah Sisters

I hope you have interpreted my silence to mean I'm busy. Yes. Understatement. But not exhausted. I've experienced that before with difficult foster children. This is nothing like that. That was a bad sort of busy. This is the kind of busy where you end up saying to yourself, "I don't know where this will end up but I sure am glad I spend the summer this way." And, "I can't really think of a better way to spend a summer." I wish I could have brochures at travel agencies recommending the highlights of Ukrainian orphan child hosting. You will never see your world the same way again. That is what I would say. You will come to appreciate fresh produce (the actual food, not the clothing line) consumed in quantities that would make a teenager blush, your own set of clothes (that no one else wears), and sofa beds (which elicit squeals of delight). I love hearing Nastia say, " Oh, Vow!" over the most mundane things. When was the last time a sofa bed made you laugh? I thought so.

Sasha and Nastia's last name isn't really Koopatzah. I renamed them that. I have absolutely no doubt that some well-meaning person, wanting to encourage them told them they would go swimming EVERY DAY. How do I know this? They demand it, the plead for it, they put the word firmly in my mouth even when what I'm trying to say doesn't even remotely sound like "koopatzah." Every mud hole we pass en route to any destination is met with the plea for koopatzah. Rolan has promised every Sunday afternoon at the city pool.

I found out what impresses them when we gave them disposable cameras on vacation. They smartly marched over to the over-stuffed fridge, opened the door and took a picture. They thought the California palm trees were funny (my Grandfather from Holland thought they looked like toilet brushes), and as with us all, the vast beauty of the ocean. Sasha had me take a photo of her holding a large wad of seaweed extended at her arms length. There are so many new foods, experiences, undiscovered treasures. It is there through the eyes of a child.

You need a lesson in gratitude? Host an orphan.