This is my last Boy Mom post. Five years I’ve been telling these stories. Stories of adoption, faith and family. Stories of five boys,...

The dragonflies were out yesterday afternoon when we returned from the airport. Somehow this seemed symbolic. My boys taking flight all over the globe. We don’t even have a kid in the state. Kyle’s comment at dinner – and his tone (shhh, don’t tell the guys) was noticeably giddy. “Do you worry?” Friends ask, thinking about international travel, news reports about a less-than-safe country. And we are aware. But we’ve been here and done this, been doing it now for a handful of

Dear Jimmy, You are amazing. An Anomaly. Dad said so just the other day, talking to someone at a wedding. Four and a half years you’ve been here in our country. Four and a half years you’ve been here in our home. A fraction of a lifetime. But a lifetime of change. You were shorter than Ingri the first time we met you. We have pictures to prove it. Ingri who stands about five foot nothing. That was Camp of Dreams, and for the next thirteen months I’d dream nonstop of Two Skinn

How are you doing with all of this? Everyone asks and I hardly know what to say. I’m not sure, to be honest. Years ago, when the boys were young, we did this thing at the Science Museum. It was a contest to see who could most effectively think about nothing. I can’t really remember the specifics now, except two opponents went head-to-head, electrodes measuring brain activity, and the one who could most effectively shut it off came away the winner. And it was Grant. Every time