Xiao baobei

As thankful as I am that my kiddos have all returned to the routine of school life, I am not so appreciative of the yuck germs they decided to share with me.  Though our fall allergy season is supposedly the worst it has been in years, I don't think I can continue holding to the belief that my misery is completely allergy related.  I've made many dying declarations throughout this long weekend over my stuffy nose sore from too many kleenexes, sore throat, sinus headache, aching ears and now added chest cough.

However, in spite of my misery, I did manage to find enough energy to lead children's worship on Sunday morning.  Thanks for that answered prayer God.

***  Side note to parents - I have very limited physical contact with your kiddos and even limited myself more than usual.  I have had no fever.  I firmly believe that this is the same yuck that is reportedly going around all the schools currently so most likely your kiddos already have been exposed at school to the kid who just wiped his snotty nose and then held your child's hand or maybe she coughed in their face.  I wouldn't even show up if I thought I might infect you kids because I know just how much I hate it when the plague strikes my house  ***

Once we returned home from church, I was spent.  Christopher and I made it to our bedroom and collapsed on the bed.  Usually we have our weekly Sunday morning debriefing session over lunch at the kitchen table, but we just didn't make it that far.

As we lay there chatting, the peace and quiet of our domain was interrupted by a bouncy, eight-year-old, Chinese princess.  (She had tons of extra energy because she knew that Sunday night the kids and Dad would be camping in the backyard.)  She crawled up on the bed and wiggled around, over, and between us.

Before long the other bookend, Caleb, wandered into our bedroom.  I can't even remember what he urgently needed to talk to us about, but he also landed himself on our bed.

Chatty Keziah somehow managed to steer the conversation to Chinese language questions.  Caleb is in his third year of studying Mandarin at the local high school so he has now passed Keziah's knowledge as her language slips away.  She was asking questions about the meaning of certain words.  Then she had a new question.

"Caleb, you teach Ma 'xiao baobei' (shao bao-bay)?"

This has been a running joke between Keziah and I since we were in China.  "Xiao baobei" translates to mean "little darling."  It's a term of endearment used with small children, babies.  Even in China, I would cuddle Keziah in my arms like a baby and say "xiao baobei" to her.  She'd make firm declarations that she was no baby!  It is a silly and loving way to tease her. 

When she asked Caleb, he told her that I had learned it on my own and taught him.  This response only prompted more questions.

"Ma, why you learn 'xiao baobei'?"

How to answer her? 

My split second answer seemed simple and very honest - "Because I wanted to be able to tell you how special and precious you are.  I wanted you to know that I loved you."

With that we were on to other topics without hardly batting an eye. 

It wasn't until later when I reflect on the brief interchange that I realized how important these little moments truly can be.  Adoption, adjustment, attachment, becoming a family - all of this doesn't happen in a instant.  Yes, I can mark the date on the calendar when official paperwork declared Keziah Huidong my daughter, but I can't find the same marking in her heart.  We are constantly growing together as a family.  It's a bumpy road with lots of twists and turns.

That moment in time was just one of many when my love for my daughter is tested to be found worthy. 

Why did I learn how to speak a few words of Chinese before I even met you face to face?  Because of love.

Still, it's not enough for Her Majesty!  She is insisting that Christopher and I learn more Chinese before Hadassah come home.  Oh joy!  Now her Daddy is on a mission.  This week, hopefully, we get to start working with the Rosetta Stone program.

Just one of the many ways to say "Wo ai ni" (I love you).