2020

Yesterday, Randy and I should have been in California celebrating our grandson's 3rd birthday. But 3 years ago we received that unthinkable phone call. Randy's daughter had gone to the hospital to deliver, a week past her due date, only to discover that C.J. no longer had a heartbeat. Somewhere in Baja, on that very same day, a woman went into labor. She would give birth to a healthy baby boy. C.E. would soon be taken to the children's home where his older sister lived, and later a younger sister would join them. Yesterday, a mama goat and her adopted baby came to live with us. I told C.E. that I had a regalo (present) for his birthday. "Is it Mama A?" he asked, inquiring after his biological mother. With so many kids leaving us over the past week, all the other kids are wondering when it will be their turn. "No, it's not Mama A," I said. "It's Mama Chiva (goat)." "Mama Chee-va," he said, because 3-year-olds repea...

When the lady from DIF (child protective services) showed up, I greeted her warmly. "You are bringing us more children," I said, because that is what I'd been told to expect that Friday afternoon. "No," she said. "I came to take your children." Wait... what??? She showed me her paperwork with the names of 4 of our children. They had only been with us for 4 months, but already they were an integral part of our family. I went upstairs to the office to tell our administrator, but when I walked into the room I couldn't speak. The tears started to flow. I kept trying for words that wouldn't come. "What's wrong, Mama Katie?" she prodded. "The lady wants to take our children away," I finally managed. By the time we got downstairs, the staff were already gathering backpacks to fill with clothes and shoes to send home with the children, who were going to live with their grandmother. I had met the grandmother sev...

As Mother's Day quickly approaches (Wednesday here in Baja; Sunday in the United States), my social media feeds are filling up with tributes to moms, memes about moms, gushy sentimentality about moms. But one Instagram post in particular jumped out at me this morning. It said: "No one can be a better mom to your children than you." This one stood out to me because it's not the world I live in. The world I live in is one where moms are controlled by addictions and abusive husbands and have been rendered incapable of being the best caregiver for their children. Some of our children were found living on the streets, ten-year-olds caring for four-year-olds, with fetal alcohol syndrome, severe handicaps, sleeping in cars, dirty, bruised, burned, afraid, scared and scarred. Three months ago four siblings were brought to us. They had their first visit with their mother on Friday. After accepting new children, we have a three-month waiting period before they are allowe...

I’ve noticed that more often than not, when we tell kids to “share” we don’t actually mean it. Randy and I have very different communication styles. I am literal; he is general. Por ejemplo (for example), if someone asks “Is that what you mean?” I will answer “si” or “no.” Randy will answer “mas o menos” (more or less). This is too vague for me. I want to mean what I say and say what I mean. The literal definition of sharing is to “give a portion of something to someone else,” or to “enjoy together.” But when we tell our kids to share, isn’t it true that we are more likely to praise them if they give away their toy and go off to play with something else? Isn’t it true that we are more likely to praise them if they give away a bigger portion of the snack they have and settle for the lesser portion? Yet it would still be sharing if they gave away a lesser portion. It would still be sharing if they asked for 5 minutes alone with their toy first before giving th...

Easter ("Pascua") in San Felipe is very different than Easter in Santiago. For two years in a row ( 2014 and 2015 ) I was in Spain for Easter. Hundreds of thousands of people flocked to the country for an opportunity to be a part of a two-thousand year-old tradition. They read the local papers for schedules of "Semana Santa" (Holy Week) events. They lined the streets to watch nightly processions go by, from Mary weeping to Jesus carrying his cross. They fasted and waited for the doors of Cathedrals to be opened so they could sit at the altar, touch the feet of the Saints, and receive a blessing. They packed the pews, eager to hear the familiar words of Scripture: He is not here. He is risen! Likewise, hundreds of thousands of people flock to San Felipe every year for Easter. Except they don't call it Easter. They call it Spring Break. They line the beaches to watch nightly processions of 4-wheelers racing across the dunes. They wait in line at the 7-el...

When I was growing up, I spent every summer and winter and break that I could with my grandparents in Iowa. Sometimes that meant flying alone, or tagging along with church families who were driving in the same direction. Sometimes it meant family road trips or flights that inevitably got cancelled due to ice storms. There didn't have to be any agenda, other than spending time with my grandparents. This week I got to be on the other side of that. Two of Randy and my granddaughters came to spend their Spring Break with us. They flew into San Diego and then we drove them down to Baja. The past 5 months have been challenging for Randy and me, to say the least. So it was incredible this week to be among family, and to see this calling through their eyes.

Because it is hot nearly year-round in San Felipe, we've had to come up with a new way to "define" the seasons. There is no rainy season, snowy season, tornado season. Instead we define our seasons by which bugs are attacking us. When we first moved into our apartment at the children's home, I noticed that all of our outlets had these "bug magnets" plugged into them. I didn't know if that was reassuring or terrifying. Reassuring that we were actively repelling them. But terrifying that they are enough of a problem to require a force field around us. We have lived here since November, and so far we have been through 3 seasons. We moved here during fly season. So many flies! Inside, outside, there was no avoiding them. I guess it just doesn't get cold enough to kill them off. But if I thought fly season was bad, that was nothing compared to mosquito season, which struck around the middle of February. I started noticing them in the offi...