i hate malaria {a post I wrote a couple weeks ago}

I wrote this a couple weeks ago. The good news is that Zoe's health is restored, except for a little more fatigue than usual. Our passports have been received, though not in the timing I hoped for when writing this. The children's IOM medicals are complete, and we will have our interview at the US Embassy in Kampala today and should receive our visas on Wednesday. 

If all goes according to that plan, we will fly out at 12:45am on Friday morning (really, more like Thursday night) and, after a stop in London, arrive in Raleigh at 3:45pm on November 22.

We knew there were risks in bringing our first three children to Uganda to bring home our newest three.

And now, Zoe has malaria.

We caught it early. We’ve started the medicine as directed by a Western doctor here and our pediatrician back home. We’re doing all we can to keep her fevers down and keep her comfortable.

I’m not going to lie. It’s scary.

I haven’t cried much while we’ve been here, but upon realizing that our baby girl is ill because we chose to bring her to Africa with us, the floodgates opened.

I hate malaria.

Malaria almost took the life of our youngest Ugandan a couple months ago. Now, malaria is visiting us once again.

Did I mention that this is scary?

God and I have had a lot of hard talks lately. I’m glad he can handle it. I trust that he has a purpose in all the struggles we’re having here in Uganda, but it’s still hard when we dwell in such uncertainty and illness in this beautiful country.

Pray with us.

Pray for us.

For health, not only for Zoe but also for those in our family having stomach issues. For our three Ugandans’ passports to be ready today, even though we’ve been told that’s not a possibility. For grace from the people we’ll deal with for the kids’ immigration medicals and for our embassy appointments for their visas. For strength and endurance for us. For God to let us in on what he is doing in all of this, because we ache to see the purpose in the pain.

unexpected blessings

One child throws up.

Another runs a fever.

One fights taking meds.

Another does too.

A few take turns being sick and sleeping on a mattress on the bathroom floor.

One wiggles out from under her mosquito net.

(She gets malaria.)

Three hide food to make sure they won’t go hungry like before.

One scavenges through the trash and eats whatever she can find.

That one eats crayons too.

And chalk.

And silly putty.

(That last one was an accident. She thought it was gum.)

One catches geckos at night when he’s supposed to be in bed.

Another throws birthday parties for stuffed animals.

One wants to change her dress at least three times a day.

Another pouts if jeans aren’t clean to wear that day.

Six love books.

Six love each other.

Six are loved.

Six are ours.

I never expected to be a mom of six.

And I am thankful for God’s unexpected blessings.

changing my perspective of home. {for now}

Sometimes a change in perspective helps more than you’d think.

(I could write a dozen posts about figurative changes in perspective, but that’s not what this post is about.)

No, I mean a literal change in perspective, as I write this post from a different location in the room. I swapped Jocelyn’s bed and the table, and then angled mine and Lee’s bed from the opposite corner of the table.

{excuse the mess. we all - minus Zoe, who is sleeping in another room - share this one room}

Now the room feels a bit more like home.

I hope it’s only home for another week, but regardless of the length of our stay, our family needs a home and not just a room.

The rearrangement was just the change our space – and my heart – needed. This place is home.

For now.

the hair. oh, the hair!

If you've talked to me in the last few months (or hung around on Pinterest long enough to see my latest pins), you know my biggest concern about this adoption:

I'm white. 

I'm not in control of my own hair most days, and I average one or two haircuts a year.

Black hair? 

In a word: YIKES.

I once told a friend that I'd only consider adopting a black boy, because hair for him would be easier. The options and tips and styles for girls? For a girl who either wears her hair down or in a ponytail, black hair maintenance scared me.

Then we said yes to our precious sibling group of three, including not one but two girls.

Then came the whammy for me: Our children's first mother was a hairdresser.

White girl, meet a high bar set for black hair care.

I'm anything if not determined. And I decided that if my two newest girls had known a mama who loved to care for their hair, I would do everything I could to be the second mama to do that.

All three of our darlings had very short hair when we arrived, which is typical in orphanages due to the difficulty in caring for longer hair and avoiding things like lice in institutional settings. This was a good thing, because it means I have some time to learn.

Now, their hair is around an inch long, if you stretch the curls. I'm beginning to realize that they each have a different hair type: Patience is a 4b, Philip is a 4a, and Patricia is a 3c.

This means we cover the gamut of types, since Lee is a 3b, I'm a 2c, Robbie is a 2b, Jocelyn is a 2a or 1a (depending on the humidity), and Zoe is a 1c. So much for being a low-maintenance mama!

I don't know if this will be helpful to anyone else, but I know the product chase was one of the most daunting parts. So here's what we've been using, first for washing:

Now, for upkeep and daily care:

To be honest, I'll probably be on the search for another pair of products for washing. The ones we're using work great for me and Zoe and Patricia and maybe Lee (though he hasn't tried them), but they're not enough for Patience or Philip. They're working for now, but I'm not in love with them. I'll be on the hunt for something new, particularly a shampoo that strips the hair less of natural oils and a conditioner that moisturizes more. Given that most washes will be co-washes (that is, washing with just conditioner and not shampoo), the conditioner is the most important of the pair.

The upkeep and care, though? I'm in love with these products. The pink oil one I picked up at a store here. It's made in Kenya, so I'm going to have to find something similar in the US (though I'll probably pick up one or two more bottles here to bring back). I spray the detangler, brush with the Tangle Teezer, massage in the pink oil (using the most for Patience since her hair is the driest and the least for Patricia), and the follow up with the olive oil cream.

If you're on the hunt, I got the olive oil cream at RiteAid, the Tangle Teezer and just for me products at Amazon, and - as I mentioned - the pink oil at a local store in Entebbe, Uganda. The olive oil cream was sold at the store in Entebbe too, which made me feel a bit validated since I figure they know best here about black hair!

All in all, the hair care isn't as scary as I made it out to be.

That said, Patience is begging for a style soon (and for some reason, the girl doesn't think wearing a headband qualifies as a "style."), so we'll see how that turns out. I have my trusty Pinterest board, so I'm hoping those pins won't fail me!

every night and every morning

Every night, Patience declares, "I am going to America tomorrow with Mommy."

Every night, we explain what we need to do next before that can happen.

Every night, I set out six sets of pajamas.

Every night, we have to tell Philip that he needs to stop running around naked and that it's time for pajamas. 

Every night, I cuddle at least two children to sleep

Every night, we secure mosquito nets around each child.

Every night, we say "Sedika" and "Webake" more times than we can count. 

(That's "Quiet" and "Sleep" in Luganda.)

Every night, we have to confiscate at least one LeapPad from a child who snuck it into bed.

Every night, I check what's dry on the clotheslines and put it away.

Every night, Lee and I chat over coffee or soda and our hidden stash of Nutella.

Every night, we go to sleep, not knowing how many more nights we have in Uganda. 

Every night, at least one child needs some help or assistance after we've fallen asleep.

Every morning, God's mercies are new for yet another Ugandan day as Dingle, party of 8. 

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”
The Lord is good to those who wait for him,
to the soul who seeks him.
”

— Lamentation 3:22-25