The situation with the orphanage in Haiti that I’ve posted about is changing often.  Their situation is being worked on by many and you can stay up to date by visiting Virginia at That’s Church - she is directly in contact with the families of the women running the orphanage and posts only confirmed information from the family after the family has given permission for it to be shared.  (Many of the links in my previous posts no longer work because she is trying to keep things up to date.)

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August 28, 1963

The text from Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I have a dream” speech.

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we’ve come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we’ve come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the “unalienable Rights” of “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.”

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we’ve come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.

The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.

We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.

We cannot turn back.

There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating: “For Whites Only.” We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until “justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream.”

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest — quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.

Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of “interposition” and “nullification” — one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; “and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.”

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

And this will be the day – this will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning:

My country ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.

Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim’s pride,

From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.

And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.

But not only that:

Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.

From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:

Free at last! Free at last!

Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!

Social media has been furiously working on getting the BRESMA children to the states.  I was amazed that every time I looked today there were new developments being reports.  I sadly have no political or wealthy contacts to offer so I offer my personal connection with all of you.  Currently, they are trying to reach out to the families who are adopting from BRESMA. Do you know anyone?  Or know anyone who knows someone?  I posted this on the Haiti board at adoption.com as well as a couple of Haitian adoption blogs and facebook.  But if you can think of other places, spread the word.  We adoption bloggers are a community so we should be able to help them find these folks - they need information from them quickly.

Visit the main link for That’s Church for the latest - the above link will take you to the  post about wanting to reach adopting families.

Sabrina received this outfit for Christmas (complete with a sparkly pink headband but I’m not sure where she put it).  She was so excited when she saw it on top of the clean laundry basket this morning (those laundry fairies that appear and make thing magically clean while you sleep ROCK!).  She wanted to wear it and happily pulled up the skirt (she really needs another couple of pounds to make it stay up well).  When we came downstairs, she glowed at her Daddy.  She started twirling (her favorite form of dance).  Then demanded a song to accompany her twirling.

Sabrina has been supremely 3 this week.  We had several mornings that began with uber time-outs (the ones that escalate into her going back to bed to calm down) before breakfast even got started.  She has tested my patience at every turn this week.  Her new favorite response to any request (things like “let go of your sister) is “No, I can’t!”  And she will respond with escalating volume and intensity with each request made.  Followed by yells of “No, I can’t!” when she is then directed to go to time-out.

Eating isn’t the issue it used to be - but only because we’ve chosen not to make it one.  She still eats incredibly slowly.  She knows when dinner is over that we take her plate.  Some nights she eats, others she does not.

She has decided she doesn’t like anything lately.  The things she does like change hourly.  One night she might love the BBQ chicken and ask for seconds and thirds, but the next day when it is offered to her, she will declare she does not like it and refuse to eat it.

We have figured out a method to get her to eat most things.  You can’t make a big deal out of trying something new and yummy.  You can’t act like it is no big deal and just put it on her plate.  You must put it on your own plate and not offer her any.  When she asks what you are eating, you must be evasive and simply tell her she won’t like it.  She will then insist that she does like it.  You must again refuse so that she says she likes it and wants some.  Then you may offer to share a bite with her.  At this point, it could be just about anything and she will insist she likes it and request a second and third bite.

You can not deviate from the process or it will fail.  Yesterday at snack time, I gave her a snack while I started to eat a clementine.  I deviated from the script - I didn’t tell her she wouldn’t like it and I allowed her a bite before her second request.  When I put her bite down on her plate, without touching it, she declared she didn’t like it.  I made her taste it and she begged to spit it out.  This morning, I peeled 2 clementines and sat next to her on the couch to eat them.  I followed the script and she ended up eating most of one - declaring it “delicious”.

As maddening as she can be, she is also the sweetest thing ever.  While I was sick (did I tell you it was strep? Not something I recommend as an adult), she would sing “Twinkle twinkle little star” to make me feel better and offer to kiss my throat.

Most of my readers are fellow adoptive parents.  You all remember that helpless feeling when something happened in Guatemala (or whatever country you adopted from)?  The earthquake near Guatemala City?  The hogar raided?  The birthmoms who were terrorized for giving up their babies?  We were besides ourselves because these babies, our children, were beyond the scope of our arms.  We couldn’t make sure they were safe.  We couldn’t protect them.

Now imagine you are in the process of adopting from Haiti.  Made your heart stop for a second didn’t it?  I’m sure there are millions of heart breaking stories about amazing individuals who need assistance in the aftermath of the earthquakes.  I can’t imagine the need.  But there is a specific situation that has been given a face (figuratively) for me.  My heart is breaking.  Go read about it at That’s Church (formerly PittGirl). The American women running that orphanage need help.  They need a private plane to get them and the babies (who have adoptive parents here waiting for them) out.  Without help, the babies will not survive.  Can you help?

Update: My understanding is now they might be able to physically get the children out, but they need some powerful political strings pulled to grant these children refugee status until their adoptions can be finalized.  Any political strings out there that you can pull?  I can’t bear that red tape is the cause of these children not surviving the aftermath of this earthquake.

Update #2: Members of Congress have become aware of the situation and are working with the White House to find a solution.  @JanePitt said on twitter that CNN was made aware and their crew on the ground in Haiti was checking on the women and children to make sure their immediate needs were met - she also said lots of important people were getting involved.  It seems that social media does have use and value when used for good.  Let’s hope there is a resolution quickly.

And if you are interested, there is a Facebook page for the cause with almost a thousand members.

Tessa has discovered how much she likes to sit in chairs that are her size.  Bottles were phased out awhile ago.  Most days she is too busy to cuddle at all.  And today, the high chair has officially been retired.  Each of these milestones is bittersweet for me because I know that Tessa is my last baby.  Steve and I sometimes talk in the dark of night about adopting again someday but that is mostly to comfort ourselves as we watch Tessa move away from being a baby and Sabrina start looking so much like a girl rather than a toddler.

I ordered a booster seat for Tessa after Christmas.  It is the same model as Sabrina’s - just a different color.  It has been almost 2 years since Sabrina switched over to the booster and I forgot the one design flaw of this model.  The food tray that snaps onto the big tray only snaps in the back meaning curious fingers eventually discover that they can pull the tray from the front and get it off pretty easily.  It took Sabrina 6 or 8 months to realize this and at that point we stopped using the food tray and just used the tray without a cover.  No big deal - the food tray is just convenient to throw in the dishwasher.

It took Tessa 3 minutes to discover this design flaw.  (Note the innocent look on her face.)

This kid is going to be trouble.

Last week, before I got sick AGAIN, I was doing a fair amount of cooking and baking - largely due to my new kitchenaid mixer.  So instead of whining about my illness (fever that lasted all weekend but finally broke this morning, incredibly sore throat, headache, swollen glands - hush, it is my blog and I’ll whine if I want to…my husband quit listening around 4pm yesterday), I thought I would share a couple of the Other People’s Recipes that I tried out.

I linked up to the recipe for the pretzels in the comments of that post.

I’ve been trying to find the perfect Black Bean Soup recipe - one that starts with dried beans because I really like the finished product…all silky smooth in the back ground yet some texture from the beans still.  My most recent attempt was with this one from all recipes.  But of course I didn’t follow it precisely - who has 2/3 cup of dry sherry in the house?  So here is the recipe as I did it:

Black Bean Soup

• 2 cups dry black beans
• 8 cups water
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 3 stalks celery, halved
• 2 onions, chopped
• 3 cloves of garlic minced
• 2 bay leaves
• 1 packet Goya ham flavoring (it is with the mexican foods usually…like chicken bullion but ham flavored)
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/8 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1 T lemon juice
• 2 or 3 dashes cayenne pepper or ground chipolte pepper
• 1 ham hock (it is cheap…you find it with the parts no one really eats - I have no idea what part of the animal this is but it grossed me out while providing  a nice smoky flavor to the soup)
• 1 or 2 T cream sherry

I soaked the beans overnight then drained them.  I chopped the onions fine.  I threw all of the ingredients in the pot except the cream sherry.  (I didn’t chop the celery to be part of the soup because I don’t like chunks of celery in this kind of soup. So I halved them and removed them with the bay leaves before pureeing.)  I cooked it for 6 1/2 hours on low on my stove - I’m sure the crock pot would serve the same purpose.  Add more water if it gets low during the cooking.  I fished out the bay leaves and celery and ham hock and then pureed it with my stick blender.  If it seems a bit thick, add some chicken broth while pureeing.  I threw in the sherry and let it cook for another 15 minutes and served with sour cream and shredded cheese.  It is missing something and the cream sherry is not the right flavor…I’m thinking about buying some dry sherry and seeing how it tastes or perhaps continuing to look around at other recipes because this soup just misses being spot on.  Worth trying though - low effort for a nice big pot of warm, filling soup.

The other recipe I tried last week was one someone linked to on Facebook during the holidays.  It was for the Best EVER Chocolate Chip Cookies.  That got my attention.  I’m not a baker but I’ve been known to make pretty darn good cookies with the help of Toll House.  With all of the butter and brown sugar, I figured these had to taste good.  And they did. I don’t know if they are the best I’ve ever eaten but they are the best I’ve ever baked.  (And I haven’t been able to eat any for 3 days because my throat hurts so bad - WAH!)  I made absolutely no changes so I won’t spell out the recipe - just click on the link.  I will say I got confused with the amount of chips because 2 cups = 12 ounce bag and the recipe called for 2 cups or 16oz (but 2 cups is 16 oz) so just use a bag and don’t hurt yourself pondering how a 12 oz bag is 2 cups but 2 cups = 16 oz.  The amount of brain power diverted to that conundrum might possibly have lowered my immune system thereby allowing this illness to overtake me.  So there you have it - the chocolate chip cookies are yummy but have been known to cause either strep throat or the swine flu depending on whether who you describe my symptoms to.  (And I still hear my 8th grade English teach telling me I should structure that sentence “to whom you describe my symptoms.” because of the whole not ending a sentence with a preposition but I hate sounding snooty just to be grammatically correct so I will continue to argue with Mr. Klink that informal situations allow ending a sentence with a preposition in this day and age.)

My lovely mother in law gave me a very generous gift card in my stocking this year.  Know what I did with it? I bought myself an appliance.  Isn’t it pretty?  (My Target only carries white so I didn’t have to struggle with deciding between the aqua, apple green, orange, yellow or cherry red because I’ve never been able to decide which I love more.)

Yes, I am officially a dork.  I tried out the dough hook yesterday.  Wanna see what I made?

They were supposed to taste like Aunt Annie’s.  They were good but they weren’t Aunt Annie’s.  With a little more salt and a lot more butter they probably would have been pretty close.

For almost a week, they’ve been talking about us getting snow today.  Tuesday they treated the roads in anticipation.  (Yeah, I have no idea why they did it 48 hours ahead of time.)  Yesterday, before flake had fallen, they closed almost every school in the area for today.  This morning, nothing.  It started snowing around 8:30 - now almost 2.5 hours later, this is what got the kids a snow day:

That screaming you hear? That is my 10 year old self who had to put on my snow boots, gloves, scarf, and big old parka and trudge down the snow covered drive way to the bus stop walked to school up hill both ways in hip deep snow because we never got a snow day.

When we travel north, our car is packed pretty full.  We obviously get rid of a few things during gift giving but it never seems to free up a lot of room.  Because everyone is so generous to our family, my inlaws normally end up shipping the majority of our loot home for us.  The 2 ginormous boxes arrived yesterday so it was like Christmas all over again for the girls.

I was taken aback by the size - I couldn’t lift one so I scooted it inside.  I didn’t remember it being so much - granted there was a lot of bubble wrap but still - wow.  We have 1 large rubbermaid container that is only for supervised play: games, puzzles, skill building items…basically anything with lots of pieces that will get strewn about the house if I don’t make sure we get them out 1 at a time and then put them away intact.  We weeded through our extensive book collection to get rid of those we adults hate to read - they are headed to Goodwill.  I am also going to do some toy editing during naps this week so that we have a more reasonable number of toys.

It is amazing how the girls instinctively know what toys are theirs - and immediately play with something that isn’t.  I snapped this photo first thing this morning - Tessa is wearing Sabrina’s crown and Sabrina is playing with Tessa’s Jack (sock monkey) in a box.  As I was unpacking the box, they immediately gravitated toward the loudest toys received: the keyboard and the lawn mower.  I think we have Aunt Iveta to thank for both of those…I’ll keep that in mind when shopping for the twins next time.  (I kid. Maybe.)

But we also have Aunt Iveta to thank for another of the most favorite gifts.  She turned the twins’ drawings (with the help of Snapfish) into placemats for the girls and coffee mugs for the grown ups.  Sabrina loves her placemat and talks about what is on it while she waits for her meal and during her meal and after her meal.  It was a very clever gift and everyone loved it.  (They used the kids drawings for their Christmas cards too - very cool.)  So you are almost forgiven for the loud toys.  Almost.

I haven’t done a Mouthwatering Monday recipe in awhile.

I’ve mentioned hamloaf a couple of times around here and I always get responses like along the lines of “WTF? Gross!”  I love hamloaf.  It must be somewhat regional because few people seem to know what it is.  In Ohio, you can buy it ready to put in the oven but the butcher looked at me like I was crazy when I asked in Pittsburgh.  I haven’t even tried to find it in TN.  My momma didn’t cook a lot of meat when I was a kid but hamloaf was a treat.  In case anyone wants to try it, I thought I would share the recipe here.  And for the record, Steve thought it sounded foul but became a convert in 1 bite.

While I was home, I bought some hamloaf mix and brought it back to TN in a cooler.  My photos aren’t very pretty - they were an afterthought.  And before you get all “EWWWW” on me, think of it as meatloaf without the beef or ketchup.

Hamloaf

1.5 lbs of hamloaf mix (70% ground ham, 30% ground pork - you can ask your butcher to do this for you if you live in an area without hamloaf)

1 sleeve saltines, finely crushed (some folks prefer 1cup bread crumbs or ritz crackers or even oatmeal…like ordinary meatloaf it is open to interpretation)

1 Tablespoon brown sugar

2 eggs, beaten

Glaze:

1/3 cup brown sugar

3 Tablespoons apple cider vinegar

2 Tablespoons water

1 Tablespoon yellow mustard (can use dijion or other type on hand)

Mix the first 4 ingredients together by hand and form into a loaf in an 8×8 baking pan.

Mix glaze items together and pour over loaf.  Bake at 350 for approx 70  minutes (until internal temp is 165-170).

Tastes great with a green veggie and scalloped potatoes.  And the leftovers are YUM!

I do have a photo or 2 to share from our trip north.  We left on the 22nd at 9pm so that the girls could sleep in the car.  The plan was for me to take a nap when Steve got home from work.  That didn’t work out so well because I am always forgetting that I can’t get anything done with 2 toddlers running around.  Sabrina isn’t too bad but Tessa just won’t stay out of anything.  It is impossible to accomplish anything when I am home alone because she is at an age that requires full time direct management.  But she is so cute that I forget until the next time I think I’m going to get something done while Steve is at work.

No nap, Steve and I both a little tense because we are tired and trying to get things to fit in the car, and an overnight drive - recipe for a good time, no?  We had to change drivers every 2 hours because we were both so tired (have I mentioned that I can’t sleep in the car?) but the girls did great.  They both stirred every time we stopped but went right back to sleep.  We were having breakfast at Eat N Park in Pittsburgh by 8:30am.   Let the festivities begin (after a 3 hour nap at my MIL’s house because we couldn’t check into our hotel yet…)!  Complete with gingerbread houses.

Christmas the First. The girls had matching outfits for Christmas although you wouldn’t know it if you didn’t look at multiple photos because I couldn’t get a single photo of them together.  Sabrina was way too busy adoring her older cousins and basking in the attention of aunts, uncles, and Grandma and Pap-pap.  Tessa, while not disliking or afraid of folks who aren’t designated bottle sippy cup getters any longer, still greatly preferred the company of Mommy and Daddy (although she had taken to calling both of us mommy now and pointing to the one she wants).

Christmas day was fun.  The kids all had a great time tearing into their presents.  Sabrina really got the whole gift thing this year so she had a grand time asking what she could open next.  It took some convincing at first for to put some of the gifts aside to keep going but once she got in the grove there was no looking back.  With every gift she opened, she gasped and asked “For me?!?”  And then “Can I open another one Mommy?”

The most popular gifts of the day seemed to be the musical gifts.  Sabrina got a keyboard and Avadar received a Barbie guitar that everyone wanted to play.  Sabrina and Uncle Pat had a jam session.

Tessa’s favorite was a cow lawn mower.

Tessa kept her security froggie with her all week.  She rarely let go of it.

Several dance parties were had by the kids.

Sabrina slept at Grandma and Pap-pap’s with her cousins the whole time we were in Pittsburgh.  When we finally told her she had to come to the hotel with us because we were heading to Ohio in the morning, she sobbed.  It broke my heart.  She sobbed that she didn’t want to leave.  I, of course, started sobbing too.  I hate that we are so far from so many who love our children.  I hate that family gatherings are special occasions instead of any random Sunday.  I hate hearing my oldest baby so heart broken.  I was ready to turn in my mommy card on the spot.

Christmas the second. We headed to Ohio on Sunday morning to spend a few days with my family.  We had dinner and did gifts with my step mom, sister, brother in law, and nephew.  It was a nice, quiet day.  (Don’t get me started on the Steelers game not being televised 100 miles from Pittsburgh.  Stupid Browns.)  Sabrina was over the previous night’s heart ache and enjoying a new group of people paying attention to her.  Tessa was still carrying froggie and sticking close to Mommy and Daddy.  We enjoyed a few days of hanging out in Ohio and watching it snow.  My sister enjoyed flipping me off every time I tried to enforce a rule with my child while she fed her sugar and painted her nails orange and green.  A good time was had by all.

Sabrina definitely had the opening presents thing down by this point.

And Sabrina was in heaven when Grandma Freida made cupcakes with her.

Tessa was a fan.  This was her first cupcake since she didn’t eat her birthday cupcake.

We drove overnight again to get home.  It went a little more smoothly than the trip up but still a couple of tired adults.  We arrived home around 4:30am.  We put both kids to bed and we fell into bed.  We all slept until 9am.  Christmas the third. We gave the girls their presents from us and from Abuela.  By this time, even Tessa was old hat at unwrapping.

See previous post for photos of their cottage and market.  But I think the biggest hit was the play remote my mom got Tessa.  Tessa is ALWAYS trying to steal the remote and press buttons so I suggested she might like one of her own.  She does.  And Sabrina is constantly stealing it from her.

There were some other popular gifts that I’ll share in the coming weeks because I know I’m always curious what is a hit in everyone else’s house so I know what to think about buying or skipping in the future.