You may have heard of AHOPE, a home in Ethiopia for HIV+ orphans, some of whom are now being adopted by American families. With the current huge hikes in food prices in Ethiopia, AHOPE is struggling to provide for the kids. Read this post if you’d like to support the kids by buying a t-shirt or just making a direct donation to AHOPE.

Saturday morning, day 2 of Blogher, very, very early in the Home Team, Rocks, Don’t Try It, Owlhaven hotel room. I was sleeping fitfully. That is, I was alternating between sleeping and:

a-hoping I don’t snore
b- hoping I didn’t steal all the covers
c- hoping I didn’t forget where I am and try to cuddle my husband Shannon in the night.

The previous evening it had been decided that the rising time would be 6:30, which seemed fiendishly early to me considering the morning session didn’t begin until 9:30. I planned to skip a shower. I was being lazy going for that perfect 2nd day hair look. But my wise and experienced roomies knew that we were dealing with a serious issue, one that would need plenty of time to work through.

4 women.

One bathroom.

This might not be such an issue if we were, say, on a camping trip. But at an event like Blogher, the last thing you want is to spend the day looking like y’all just rolled out of bed. This was going to take some serious organization and teamwork.

At the first sound of the 6:30 alarm, they sprang into action like a well-oiled machine. Well, Christine and Shannon did, anyway. Melanie and I scrooched deeper into our pillows and slept cursed the morning stuck our fingers in our ears. Shannon and Christine rotated smoothly between shower and closet and makeup mirror. And Melanie was apparently not as asleep as I thought. As soon as the first two got their showers, she jumped up and took her turn in the bathroom. There was some soft whispering as Shannon very kindly decided to wait a bit before turning on her blow dryer.

I was still steadfastly resisting, telling myself I should be able to sleep for at least a little while longer. Problem was, I really needed that bathroom, which is not exactly conducive to restful sleep. I sat up in bed and decided to blog a bit, though I was not at all sure such a thing could actually be accomplished without an extra-large, extra-strong cup of Ethiopian coffee by my side. Especially while my brain was chanting, ‘bathroom, bathroom, bathroom’ in an ever-louder chorus. (I must note that the next morning, Melanie told me it was perfectly OK to walk in and use the facilities while she was in the shower. But this was my first morning there. We just didn’t know each other that well yet.)

Finally, finally the bathroom was mine. I stared into the mirror with my red-rimmed eyes wondering why the heck I didn’t pack visine, and hoping that my ‘perfect’ second day hair would save me.

By 8:30 in the morning everyone else was pulled together, standing at the door waiting for me to get my act in gear. And they looked GOOD.

Me? I still had a blanket crease on my cheek and I couldn’t find my shoes. Also, sadly, I discovered I’d left my mascara at home. Fortunately I’d been incredibly lazy the night before and hadn’t ever gotten around to taking off yesterday’s. So now not only did I have second day hair, I had second day mascara. Nice.

The next morning, having learned my lesson, I staggered into the bathroom at 6:15 AM. First. And croaked crowed victoriously in the shower.

4 women.

I bathroom.

Hang sleep.

Here’s the latest from my mom in Ethiopia.

Have you all been waiting anxiously to find out what fasting food is? Well, here is it: fasting food is made without animal products to honor various fasting days and requirements in the Muslim religion. Which being interpreted means, a vegetarian meal!

I think if Ron had realized that, he really would have stayed home and had pizza. Plus, we had to walk a mile or more to get to the “Bright House,” which is an experience in itself. There are endless numbers of potholes and animal debris in which a person might fall or sprain an ankle. The roads are shared helter skelter by motorcycles, pedestrians, trucks, a few cars, and taxis consisting of small 2-wheeled carts pulled by ponies.

Ron says the roads are all uphill, both ways. Ferenjis like us attract followers of all ages who walk right with us and try to engage us in conversation or touching or gifts of money. Children trot along looking up at us with beautiful bright smiling expectant faces. It’s quite a puzzle knowing how to respond to them all. We’ve been told that the smartest approach is to ignore them to minimize the following, but it seems so rude to do that. Ron spoke to one man who then stuck right with us all the way to the door of the restaurant. It makes the walk seem very long!

Our waiter understood not a word of English! I mean, not even “water!” We 10 ferenjis were all frustrated with him, and he with us. Utilizing lots of sign language, plus a few native words that Sophie knew, we finally did get a large tray of injera and fasting food. We tried to make him understand that we needed 2 more of the same, but he never caught on. He did bring us other, tasty food. Suffice to say, we all got plenty of “fasting food” to eat, and Ron had (meat-free) spaghetti!

Darkness had descended for our walk home, making the potholes even more treacherous. At the top of the bank building is a restaurant that serves wonderful smoothies, so we made our way up several stories and settled in an outdoor rooftop restaurant. As soon as we ordered our smoothies, the word came that they were closing for the night! No smoothies for the ferenjis!

On Saturday morning fresh eggs were delivered right to our door, each for 1.25 birr or about 12

This weekend while I am away at Blogher, I am sharing several letters we’ve gotten recently from family on a medical mission trip to Ethiopia. Here is an update from my mom. If you were part of the feeding project on my blog a few weeks ago, be sure to read all the way to the end. You will be amazed at what is being accomplished with your gift.

Today we went to see Dr. Mary at her clinic. The sick folks and their families had all gathered in a clearing where Dr. Mary and Dr. Ruth were making their way from one to the next. The doctors held clipboards with many small pieces of paper on which they were making notations, one paper scrap for each patient. People were removing articles of clothing as needed for an exam in front of the whole village. No one seemed to mind or think the lack of privacy was strange.

The temporal thermometer (complete with handy pack) that we had brought from Idaho was being used with much gratitude

I am sososososo tired that I cannot come up with much that is coherent. (That can’t have anything to do with the fact that I began my day at 3:30 AM, can it?) Suffice it to say that Blogher is big and LOUD and a mob scene. And fun. Very, very fun.

My roomies are lovely. We didn’t hang together the entire time, but we met up at various times during the day. It was really nice in that mob to have a smaller more familiar group to return to. (Nevermind that we only met in real life earlier that day.) Well, actually Shannon and Melanie and Christine all live in the very same town and have been good buds for years. But they very graciously included me in their little circle and made me feel at home. Their cute mid-West not-quite-southern Oklahoma accents sound sweetly familiar to me, since I grew up in Missouri. I guess after living 25 years in Idaho, that had slipped away from my speech– they said I sound Canadian, almost. But after a day of chatting with them, I am finding myself dropping a bit of that whatever-it-is twang back into my own speech.

I am not a true extrovert, but I came determined to mingle. And mingle I did. I was in the zone, people. Just now I went digging through my bag and found 38 blog cards of women that I chatted with. Long conversations in some cases. My voice is literally hoarse from talking so much. But boy, I met some interesting folks.

Probably my dumbest moment of the day came when during the first big session I looked at the next table and spotted someone I knew. I think. Maybe. I kept stealing glances at her, becoming more and more convinced that I actually knew this woman. An Owlhaven reader, maybe? At one point she caught my repeated glances, and I blurted, “I think I know you!”

Never mind that this was in the very middle of a session. (Very smooth, Mary!) She smiled and showed me her nametag, so I showed her mine too. Turns out she is Lindsay from Suburban Turmoil. She is like a rock star in the blogging world. Only a gazillion and one people recognize her by sight. She very graciously smiled and pretended to recognize my blog, though, bless her heart, she’s probably never been here. At which point I smiled weakly and slunk off embarrassed…I guess I should have given her my card, but ah well.

I’ll put a post together in a few days and tell you the other people I got a chance to meet. But now it is nearly midnight San Francisco time and I am ready to drop. Melanie is already snoozing and Christine, Shannon and I are all still typing away, but I am thinking it will be bed soon for me, at least. Tomorrow is another busy day!

This weekend while I am at Blogher, I’ll be sharing some more letters from my family in Ethiopia. This letter was written a few days ago by my sister Sophie.

Ethiopia has a way of sucking people in. Since I was in 7th grade, I’ve known that I would work in Africa. I didn’t know what I would do, but I still knew I would be here. After I spent a summer here, I knew that I was hooked. I’ll never be able to stay away. I even took a $20K/year pay cut so that my schedule would allow me to come. And apparently it’s not only me. Kara [fellow mission worker] was asked today if she would like to stay in Ethiopia and run a home for orphans and widows. Ron wants to build a house here so that he can live here for a month at a time. What is it about this place? Is it the beauty? Is it the poverty? Is it the food? Is it the pace of life? Is it the amazing amount of opportunity to make a real, tangible difference in lives?

Stephne [doctor's wife who runs an orphanage] has a theory. She says that Africa has a very raw spirituality to it. In America, we gloss over our spirituality by going to church and doing all those good Christian things. We are not often reminded that “our battle is not against flesh and blood.” Here, the battle between good and evil is very evident, and raging around us. I am surrounded by just as many muslim mosques as Christian churches. The call to prayer is broadcast across the community on loudspeakers 5 times every day. People are constantly in positions of reverence.

Nearly every day, I learn of a “coincidence” that cannot be anything other than a work of or message from God. The sheer hopelessness in the lives of these people demands that they hold onto something. Their faith is the only thing that keeps them going. While in America, we can go for days/weeks/months without giving God a second thought. Here, that’s not an option.

This week has been a good one. After a great meeting, we had 4 good class sessions. The students came, were attentive, and participated in discussion. Today we looked at Konjit, the plastic forenge woman [a teaching mannequin]. It always makes me chuckle when I see a poor male nurse very nervously reach in to remove the pelvic organs of the plastic woman. Next week will be lots of review of surgical complications, and what nurses can do to prevent and treat these problems.

Having Mom and Ron here has been really fun. Mom is loving her work with the nurses, and Ron wants to build a house here so that he can live here for a month every year

I have three children who were all born within 5 months’ time. Currently they are all ten years old. They are each other’s best buddies, but they are also extremely competitive. Who’s taller? Who’s faster? Who can hold their breath the longest underwater? Everything is a competition.

The other day the three of them came bursting out of my bathroom, the girl in the lead. “I’m the most pounds, mom!” she declared triumphantly.

The boys were quick to dispute her position as heaviest of the three. “Yeah, but it doesn’t count. Mom, she was holding the trash can when she weighed herself!”

Oh, yeah, I do that all the time.

I’m scurrying around like a crazy woman this week trying to get everything pulled together for my Blogher weekend. I am so excited! I’m looking forward to meeting my roomies, esp Shannon who has been an email friend for a couple years now. We have much in common, including our ‘baby’ girls who were born the same month, so I can’t wait to make her a real life friend.

Thankfully my daughter is doing better on her meds now, which makes me feel easier about going. But the stress of last weekend has gotten to me. I swear, my brain will not engage! My air-headed attempts are being made even more futile by the able assistance of my kiddos. Most of them were disgusted today to learn that I am packing tomorrow instead of taking them roller-skating. Never mind that they spent hours this afternoon splashing in the pool with good friends –more, more, more is their mantra. They’re not especially thrilled at the thought of doing without me this weekend either. It is nice to feel needed, but also a mite exhausting.

This afternoon I decided to try on a few outfits so I could figure out what on earth to pack. I had the audacity to begin this endeavor without an audience. My 6 and 3 year old daughters have locked-door-sensing powers, and immediately camped outside the door, knocking and calling soulfully to me approximately every 2.5 seconds. Meanwhile I am on the other side of the door trying to find some miraculous item of clothing that will make me look sleek instead of –ahem– like a sweet potato. Sadly, I was not successful. 36 hours unfortunately does not allow enough time for even the crashiest of crash diets. Ah well. I yam what I yam.

Once the least objectionable items of clothing were heaped on top of my suitcase for further weeding out (a 3 day trip probably does not require 7 outfits, after all) it was on to shoes. Will these cute heels leave blisters? But these comfy flat sandals– are they ugly? I still have not satisfactorily resolved that dilemma, but thankfully I don’t leave home til 4 am Friday. I’ve got lots of time, right?

I did finally get my new computer bag done today. I wanted something that looked more like a purse than a plain black computer bag, and found some fun fabric a few weeks ago. I’ll try to get the pictures up for you before I leave. I also have a letter or two from my sister to share with you, and I’m looking forward to telling you all about my conference experience when I get back.

Because I am sick of thinking and endlessly talking (sorry) about seizures, I have decreed it to be contest day. I am going to be giving away a Precious Moments Birthday figurine to the person who can share the best birthday that you remember having as a child.

The one that comes to my mind is my 9th birthday celebration at my grandma’s house in Idaho, where she made me a cake and my cousins got to attend. Since my family lived in Missouri at the time, it seemed extra-special to have my cousins there celebrating with us.

I also have a fond memory of my 16th birthday. At 9 AM on the day of my birthday, I was at the driver’s license office office, ready to take my driving test. An hour later I had my new license in my hand. Don’t ask me what I did the rest of the day; that was the highlight for me.

Because I’m going to be pretty busy for the rest of this week, you have until Monday morning to share your memories. Sometime on Monday or Tuesday I’ll pick a winner. The Precious Moments figurine was donated by Preciousmoms.com. They also have a birthday party planning kit that you might like to check out.

I can’t wait to hear your memories. I’ll be reading with the focus of trying to figure out what tends to make birthdays most special for kids. With 5 kids age 10 or under, there are lots of Owlhaven birthday parties still in our future, and I’d like to make them good ones!

This one is guaranteed to be a disorganized jumble…

We got home yesterday after doctor diagnosed our 12 yo with idiopathic seizures– meaning he didn’t know what caused them. I told him I was afraid he was going to say that but he said actually that is the best kind to have because that means our daughter doesn’t have anything obviously wrong with her except for the fact that her brain electricity is misfiring at times.

Doc gave her a greater than 50% chance of outgrowing this, and started her on Keppra, which he said has very few side effects and works really well for lots of kids. Once she has gone two years without seizures, we can talk about gradually weaning her off. As a dedicated google junky, I of course had to look the drug up. Depending on who you talk to it is either a wonder drug or one that makes people into moody zombies. Lovely. Decided to trust the doc God and jump in, because the alternative (2-6 seizures a day) is not pretty. And we can always play with drugs to find something else if this doesn’t work for her.

By the end of Monday our weekend of little sleep in the hospital plus the loading dose of medication was getting to her. We had some rather unhappy moments before I summarily sent her to sleep it off. And I was feeling very down and overwhelmed myself. The last thing a moody 12 year old needs is a drug that makes her moodier. Eek, eeek, eeek.

I then went off to Walmart to get her meds, only to discover that a 60-day supply costs– get this– $300!!!! Just incredibly awful. Got home and very soon after sent MYSELF to bed to sleep it off.

And, glory be– we made it through the entire night with zero seizures. For the first time in a week.

This morning I was catching up with bloggy friends and found this post from Carrien. So here are the things I am thankful for:

1. That my daughter made it through the night with zero seizures.

2. That our insurance makes it possible for us to pay only $20 for $300 worth of medicine.

3. That our daughter is here in America where her seizures can be treated.

4. That our other children did OK while I was gone over the weekend.

5. That God loves my kids more that I do and He is able to make my feeble efforts enough. Even when dealing with a certain cranky, hormonal, medicated 12 year old.

And here are the things I am praying for (in case you want to help me out in that department.)

1. That my daughter’s meds will stop her seizures without scary side effects.

2. That yesterday’s crankiness will turn out to be an abberation rather than the new norm on medication.

3. That I will have grace to deal with any less-than-sweet attitude. From anyone, not just her. Y’all may be familiar with the way kids decide to melt down all over the place when mom has been away for a few days.

4. That my family will be well and happy while I am at Blogher this weekend, and not melt down AGAIN after I come home. I am almost never away from my family, and so 4 overnights in 8 days time is highly unusual and won’t be super-easy for anyone. I am especially praying my wonderful hubby will have a smooth and peaceful time. I feel a little selfish at still planning to go, esp. after events in the past few days. But hubby has lots of support at home. And selfish or not, I am SO READY to GO!