<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231</id><updated>2012-01-27T14:58:18.540-08:00</updated><category term='middle school'/><category term='1st birthday'/><category term='Kiev'/><category term='baseball'/><category term='guilt. motherhood'/><category term='ice cream'/><category term='baseball themed birthday party'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='McDonald&apos;s'/><category term='adoption birthday party'/><category term='invitations'/><category term='vbs'/><category term='party'/><category term='birthday party'/><category term='santa christmas'/><category term='ukraine'/><category term='1st day of school'/><category term='USA'/><category term='library'/><category term='adoption'/><title type='text'>Getting Yuri</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-487868050228347543</id><published>2009-09-10T21:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T21:01:27.539-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Looking for free bikes.  My son and I are fixing them up for people in need.  Just let me know what you got.  Currently we are not turning down anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-487868050228347543?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/487868050228347543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/487868050228347543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/09/looking-for-free-bikes.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-2484640397812955314</id><published>2009-08-18T13:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T13:14:49.193-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ukraine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1st day of school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='middle school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adoption'/><title type='text'>Back To School....Middle School that is</title><content type='html'>Well Andy's 1st day of 5th grade was great!  He loves his teachers and so do we and we are very pleased with the school.  There is another student in his class who is also from Ukraine!  What are the chances.  I told Andy "man God really watches out for you" and he replied, "yep, He sure does"&lt;br /&gt;and smiled. &lt;br /&gt;And that about sums up how we feel right now.  I look back and this time last year--well this time last year we were on the beach in Ukraine...but as far as 1st days of school goes this time last year was so much different. &lt;br /&gt;Last time on his 1st day of school he only knew a handful of English.  He had only been in the States a few weeks.  Its so crazy how time flies.  It feels like we've been here forever and yet its not really even been a full year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Andrew and I celebrated our Anniversary.  And I remember on our last anniversary we were eating pizza at the beach in Ukraine.  Andy spoke maybe 10 words in English and yet we laughed and had fun...well, I remember it that way at least...my blog may say otherwise.  lol&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this year we celebrated and Andy bought me roses--is that not the sweetest thing.&lt;br /&gt;He told us, I have an anniversary surprise for you--out come a dozen roses.  Is this kid golden or what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I was complementing Andy on his school work and how he'd already written down the full week's assignments (something he forgot a lot last school year) and he just looked at me and said "well yeah, I'm getting older and that's what you do"  as if, of course.  He even looks older.  It's bittersweet because I want to keep him a 'baby' forever, but its so amazing to watch him mature.  He explained  to me how the teachers said they have more freedom this year bc its middle school and how of course with freedom comes responsibility.  I swear when he said it he grew an inch.  Before I know it he'll be taller than me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life's going well.  Andy is more settled than ever.  We had a great summer and as Andy so quickly agreed to before, I think, Man, God really watches out for  him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-2484640397812955314?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/2484640397812955314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/2484640397812955314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/08/back-to-schoolmiddle-school-that-is.html' title='Back To School....Middle School that is'/><author><name>yours truly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-8719033059716467543</id><published>2009-08-14T07:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T07:01:55.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>we just took andy in 4 day 1 of 5th grade. Really excited @ this school. I can&amp;#39;t believe he&amp;#39;s getting so big. I had to force myself not take the camera in!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-8719033059716467543?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/8719033059716467543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/8719033059716467543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/08/we-just-took-andy-in-4-day-1-of-5th.html' title=''/><author><name>yours truly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-7116689003669971764</id><published>2009-08-14T05:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T05:28:56.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I woke up this morning and Andy was already dressed for school and ready to go! 2 cute. 5th grade here we come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-7116689003669971764?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/7116689003669971764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/7116689003669971764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-woke-up-this-morning-and-andy-was.html' title=''/><author><name>yours truly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-2388452360805377268</id><published>2009-08-10T21:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T21:30:03.487-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-2388452360805377268?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/2388452360805377268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/2388452360805377268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/08/hi.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-443214360900510916</id><published>2009-08-10T21:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T21:27:01.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Testing one two three.  Testing one two.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-443214360900510916?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/443214360900510916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/443214360900510916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/08/testing-one-two-three.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-3291880852031591784</id><published>2009-07-24T15:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T15:25:19.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Todays andys last day as an 10yr old!  This time last year we were waiting to see him again for the 2nd time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-3291880852031591784?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/3291880852031591784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/3291880852031591784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/07/todays-andys-last-day-as-10yr-old-this.html' title=''/><author><name>yours truly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-1584490641922299663</id><published>2009-07-21T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T09:13:46.929-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Andy's Best friend in Ukraine, Amir and Esther with Orphans Hope</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&amp;amp;ik=b2870f5476&amp;amp;view=att&amp;amp;th=121f96e7d6a595ee&amp;amp;attid=0.3&amp;amp;disp=inline&amp;amp;zw"&gt;(JPEG Image, 2736x3648 pixels) - Scaled (16%)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Andy's best friend, they call each other brothers.  He is with Esther in this picture.  She is in Ukraine and has known Andy and Amir since they were around 5 I think.  You can check out her blog--there is a link on the right hand side of my blog.  Esther has been a lifeline to the children of Ukraine. &lt;br /&gt;She is close to Amir and has helped us to communicate with him since being back in the US.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amir needs a family.   Let us know if you want to contribute to the "Adopt Amir" fund. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-1584490641922299663?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&amp;ik=b2870f5476&amp;view=att&amp;th=121f96e7d6a595ee&amp;attid=0.3&amp;disp=inline&amp;zw' title='Andy&apos;s Best friend in Ukraine, Amir and Esther with Orphans Hope'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/1584490641922299663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/1584490641922299663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/07/andys-best-friend-in-ukraine-amir-and.html' title='Andy&apos;s Best friend in Ukraine, Amir and Esther with Orphans Hope'/><author><name>yours truly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-4433469791639096983</id><published>2009-07-20T20:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T20:40:48.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faking a Shower</title><content type='html'>This morning Andrew was in his office early working, with the door shut.  He heard Andy get up, scuffle out of his room...starting his morning routine which generally consists of him sweet talking the animals, playing with Allie and lovin' on her, showering and brushing his teeth.  This is what he does on his own...or at least we thought.....&lt;br /&gt;However, perhaps not....so this morning he heard all of this up until he went to the bathroom.  This morning, and now I wonder how many other mornings, he fired up his electric toothbrush for all of 30 seconds, then cranked up the shower for about 20 seconds, got dressed and went about his business.  HA he faked his shower!  Andrew said it took everything in him not to laugh out loud.  Of course Andy didn't know his Dad heard all of this.  Andrew chose not to ask him if he'd showered bc he simply didn't want to force the kid to fib.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he tells me this and of course we laugh.  But tonight at dinner Andrew busted him, lightheartedly of course.  I was watching Andy's face as a smile timidly spread across his lips.  He saw we were laughing and I guess figured the coast was clear.  Andrew of course thinks its hilarious bc he was a 10yr old boy once too and apparently did the same thing.  I must say, I think it is hilarious, but I don't remember doing that when I was 10.&lt;br /&gt;Andrew then recounts a story of bragging to his mom after kids camping that he didn't shower the whole week! &lt;br /&gt;Upon hearing that and cracking up at both himself and his Dad he says&lt;br /&gt;"I also stick my head under the sink so my hair looks wet."&lt;br /&gt;At that point, me, Andrew, my Mom and my Sister lose it.  He just gave away his last trick as far as showering goes. &lt;br /&gt;Maybe you had to be there... or perhaps its just my first boy...but I think its so funny that Andy fakes taking a shower.  He seemed so proud of himself too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note to self...smell his hair in order to prove he showered? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-4433469791639096983?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/4433469791639096983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/4433469791639096983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/07/faking-shower.html' title='Faking a Shower'/><author><name>yours truly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-5322906506400619672</id><published>2009-07-20T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T20:24:00.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Andy's 1st Birthday Party: 11yrs old</title><content type='html'>So we made it...our first official birthday party.  Andy's first ever and my first as a parent.&lt;br /&gt;whoohoo milestone :)&lt;br /&gt;I was hoping I'd have something really funny to write...lol but I don't.  The party went over great.&lt;br /&gt;We rented a huge inflatable slip n slide and the rest was "baseball themed" (well except for the pinata which Andy really wanted so of course we did).  It was really fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will say that I don't know of any other 10yr old who worries about the state of the house and yard for their own party.  It was cute and sad at the same time.  I had to keep gently reminding Andy we had it covered, we would take care of it.  He was really exciting.  We had a countdown going on the calendar and in the kitchen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I did my 'Motherly Duty' of worrying that we wouldn't have enough kids, or that it wouldn't be fun...whatever else there is to fret over...  However, I must commend myself because I kept it under control and at some point (who knows when) I just stopped.  Yeah, all on my own I was calm and collected and decided whatever would happen would happen.  HA no.&lt;br /&gt;Between my Mom and a few friends, that happened.  Either way it was really fun, we really enjoyed ourselves and got a bunch of great pics--that need to be uploaded--and Andy scored some great gifts (can I say that? Is that tacky?) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister got the cake and pizza and I've never seen such an awesome cake that also tasted good--seriously it seems like you can only have one or the other.  But it was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we are...1 down...tons more to go.  Ahhh--insert me smiling and sighing.  With this birthday/milestone comes the reminder of all the birthdays Andy didn't get to celebrate and all the years we missed.  However, he is here now and it just seems normal--which is good.  But it did make me stop and remember (although its easy to remember) how very blessed we are to be a family.  I look at him and I just want to hug him and never let him go. &lt;br /&gt;Last year we celebrated his birthday at a McDonald's in Simferopool, Ukraine.  It was the first time we'd seen him in almost 2yrs and we couldn't have been happier.  He spoke maybe 2 words of English and already called us Mamma and Pappa.  I'll never forget him sitting there smiling from ear to ear.  He had never even been to McDonald's.  He ordered a cheeseburger happy meal, ice cream cone, and a chocolate muffin.  He saved a few bites of his cheeseburger and half of his fries for later.  And neither Andrew or myself could quit smiling or hugging him.  And here I sit just shy of a year from that day (bc his real bday is the 25th) blogging about his first party.  We've come along way.  Thanks to all of you who've been a part.  I'm actually trying not to cry just thinking about our journey.  I keep a journal for Andy.  I've been writing in it about him, the adoption...etc since we started this process.  I was reading back through it Saturday night and there was a bday card tucked inside from what we thought was his 7th birthday.  I remember his birthday then.  I was at Dell and Andrew was still selling real estate.  I must have thought about him all day wishing he would be here.  And here we are, and he's here.  It felt like it would never happen.  The Lord sure does work in mysterious ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I've told you before I don't go back and read these....so sorry if this one was a waste of your internet time :)  I'll post pics of his bday as soon as I can get them loaded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From dreaming on his birthday, to a McDonald's party of 4.....here we are, home all together--Mom, Dad and Andy-- :)&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Andy&lt;br /&gt;Here's to all the birthday's to come!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-5322906506400619672?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/5322906506400619672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/5322906506400619672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/07/andys-1st-birthday-party-11yrs-old.html' title='Andy&apos;s 1st Birthday Party: 11yrs old'/><author><name>yours truly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-4198356289963418745</id><published>2009-07-13T15:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T16:00:38.137-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Stupid</title><content type='html'>Andy got upset the other night and in his madness (whatever you want to call it) he threatened to write "I'm Stupid" on his face.  It was late and we were all tired.  I (of course) told him he was not stupid--so don't go emailing me :) but that if he wanted to do that I wasn't going to stop him. &lt;br /&gt;I shut the door and left...praying he wouldn't call for me again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fingers crossed.....hold your breath...nope no more yells.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning I go in to wake him up, one of my favorite things.  They are so sweet and inncocent before they get up aren't they?  So I'm rubbing his back and as I'm about to say "Andy wake up" he rolls over and what do I see--you got it... black marker...smeared across his precious face. &lt;br /&gt;I hold back a laugh and walk outside to call Andrew, who's already left for church.&lt;br /&gt;I decide to not say a thing to Andy about his new tattoo.  You can tell he did it in the mirror and it doesn't actually say 'I'm stupid' it really says MI then you can see an bits of stupid but it's all crossed out...  so really it looks like MI with a dark line underneath.  MI is somewhat accurate if its for mission impossible...that about sums up how I feel sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we get ready with no mention of "the mark" and later a few minutes before we are leaving he says to me "you know how you say you wouldn't let me go out looking silly?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes."&lt;br /&gt;"Well" he replies " Do you really mean that."&lt;br /&gt;I of course nod, because I do--I wouldn't let him go out dressed silly as I have told him before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This of course doesn't satisfy him because he wants me to say something about his mark, fuss, get mad, anything.  And I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So finally he caves and asks "well are you going to let me go looking silly."&lt;br /&gt;"No.  I think your clothes look nice."&lt;br /&gt;hmmm I can tell he's still not satisfied with his performance...&lt;br /&gt;"So you really would let me go out looking silly then."&lt;br /&gt;"No I reply, I told you I wouldn't send you out dressed silly and you are not.  I cannot help that you chose to write on your face." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So finally as am walking out the door he says "how do I get it off"  Which I know he knows because he's already washed part of it off. &lt;br /&gt;"Soap and water"&lt;br /&gt;"What if it doesn't come off?"  dont' get all soft he says this defiantly as if it will give him a get out of church pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well then, I guess you will go to church looking silly."&lt;br /&gt;With that I go to the car and wait.  Whatta ya know he comes out, with a clean face.&lt;br /&gt;Guess that will teach him not to use that type of 'threat' again. &lt;br /&gt;One for Mom.&lt;br /&gt;Whew, I was worried this would be a bad morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course....if you read this and you have kids that know Andy PLEASE do not let them read this or know about this story.  He would be devastated.....&lt;br /&gt;Ok I'm trusting you...&lt;br /&gt;Dear God, please don't let any of Andy's friends come up to him at church or wherever about this...or I'll die and feel like dirt.&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-4198356289963418745?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/4198356289963418745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/4198356289963418745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-stupid.html' title='I&apos;m Stupid'/><author><name>yours truly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-4928875453823416222</id><published>2009-07-02T20:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T15:29:25.355-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baseball themed birthday party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1st birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='invitations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baseball'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adoption birthday party'/><title type='text'>andy's 1st birthday party</title><content type='html'>andys birthday is coming up, july 25th and so we are planning his 1st birthday party! not just his 1st in America, or 1st with us but his VERY first ever!! needless to say he is excited...and oooh so cute @ it. hence me posting this from my cell phone-holy sore thumbs. after his baseball game last night we pulled into the parking lot of party city and headed inside. when he realized we were there for his party he squealed and his eyes lit up-oh yeah, i'm thinking-im in big trouble, if he's that appreciative over invites hwo can i say no to anything?? lol. anyway short story long he was in heaven the whole time. and he's making out his invites as we speak and he was so happy to do them. it was so sweet. he's looking forward to it so much we have a countdown in our kitchen! so...basically i just wanted to share how much joy he brings me-just seeing his excitement over his bday. little boys, or @ least mine, sure do know how to get their moms wrapped around their fingers! good thing he doesn,t know :)&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-4928875453823416222?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/4928875453823416222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/4928875453823416222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/07/andys-1st-birthday-party.html' title='andy&apos;s 1st birthday party'/><author><name>yours truly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-6438590257414422317</id><published>2009-06-24T10:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T11:05:11.520-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guilt. motherhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vbs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='library'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adoption'/><title type='text'>"Mom Guilt"</title><content type='html'>&amp;quot;Mom Guilt&amp;quot;. Someone should tell all new Moms @ the extreme amount of guilt they will feel upon entering Motherhood. Guilt over any and everything at any given time. This was a surprise to me. I mean I expected a little but all the time? Something must be wrong with me. Here's a nice little example to show u how nutso I can be. I told Andy we would try to go to the library after VBS today. What I didn't think @ is the reality that we don't have time today. See I take little trips to the Magical Kingdom-mom version. Where I am super Mom and can do all things with no time constraints. I invent these super fab agendas in my head and bc in the magic kingdom they work I am comletely devasted when I am back in the real world and can't fit it all in. Luckily I don't divulge all my "splendid" plans with Andy, otherwise he'd not only be stressed but also dissapointed. So here I sit feeling like a failure bc not only can we not go to the library (which he only wants to go bc I'm making him read lol) but I also couldn't pick him up so he's riding with the neighbor and her kids bc I had to do some work.  *sigh*  the part that makes me nut is that he is best friends with the neighbors and they are like family. And, in fact she usually picks them up. In reality as I am drowning in my guilt the rational part of me knows he would rather be wherever the boys are. So if they r with her that's where he wants to be. If they r with me, that's where he wants to be. I know all this so why am I still feeling like a loser? Good question. No one can seem to ease it. Well, that's not true, I only tqalked to andrew as he worked and he wa super busy so he just looked at me as I half talked and half thought and trying to help smiled saying "its ok.". Ok? No I need more than that-so, I call the mom help hotline-my mom. That def helped. However I was only relieved from this guilt after talking to my sweet son. He was happy and so excited that instead of going to the library for a little while today we r going to try to go next week with the neighbors, downtown. That got me a hearty "cool. Love you Mom. Bye.". Insert relief and a smile. What I didn't tell him was my loftyh plans of taking the train to the downtown library! Nevermind its blocks from the trainstation...there I go again&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-6438590257414422317?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/6438590257414422317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/6438590257414422317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/06/guilt-someone-should-tell-all-new-moms.html' title='&quot;Mom Guilt&quot;'/><author><name>yours truly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-656949990090324676</id><published>2009-06-20T18:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T19:14:30.878-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Andy just finished a dbl header. He was catcher-his 1st time. He did great! Had a great attitude and game!  He hustles no matter what.  We are so proud :)&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention how cute he looks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-656949990090324676?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/656949990090324676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/656949990090324676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/06/andy-just-finished-dbl-header.html' title=''/><author><name>yours truly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-3471680377105111990</id><published>2009-06-19T11:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T19:18:02.139-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Andy is @ kroger with my neighbor and her boys-his 2 best friends. They are having a serious argument @ who's Dad is the best!  My neighbor took her boys to pick out Father's day cards and let Andy tag along.  She said that Andy proudly said "My dad is the BEST DAD."  Of course all little boys think their Dad is the best so her son refuted this.  But Andy took it really seriously and he was getting upset (lol).  He told his best friend... "you don't understand, my Dad is the best.  He came all the way to Ukraine to get me and adopt me." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that isn't heart melting I don't know what is.  He's so sweet.  This has been such an amazing journey.  I promise to fill in the gaps because we've had some really funny stories. &lt;br /&gt;Oh,  and they took a fart machine!  My poor neighbor!&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-3471680377105111990?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/3471680377105111990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/3471680377105111990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/06/andy-is-kroger-with-my-neighbor-and-her.html' title=''/><author><name>yours truly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-2896744646269266357</id><published>2009-06-16T15:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T15:36:02.292-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back....or at least trying to be</title><content type='html'>Where have I been?  I don't know how it has been so long since my last post? I really do love posting....I am trying to think of a reason why I haven't had time to post....hmm  Below are a few things I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;think&lt;/span&gt; may have kept me a bit tied up.&lt;br /&gt;1. teaching my Andy English&lt;br /&gt;2. learning how to be a mom&lt;br /&gt;3. cooking&lt;br /&gt;4. cleaning&lt;br /&gt;5. laundry&lt;br /&gt;6. figuring out how to 'make friends' with total strangers on account that they too have a 10 yr old--aawwwkwwaaaard&lt;br /&gt;7. laundry&lt;br /&gt;8. keeping my calm&lt;br /&gt;9. debating time out with other punishments&lt;br /&gt;10. being frustrated&lt;br /&gt;11. being tired&lt;br /&gt;12. figuring out my place as Mom at school....pta....room mom&lt;br /&gt;13. little league&lt;br /&gt;14. youth soccer&lt;br /&gt;15. vbs&lt;br /&gt;16. being a mom&lt;br /&gt;17. feeling guilty&lt;br /&gt;18. wondering why i feel guilty all the sudden&lt;br /&gt;19. helping andy learn to read&lt;br /&gt;20. laundry&lt;br /&gt;21. feeling guilty....again&lt;br /&gt;22. homework&lt;br /&gt;23. summer!&lt;br /&gt;24.  playing with Andy&lt;br /&gt;25. hosting sleepovers&lt;br /&gt;26. play dates&lt;br /&gt;27. LAUNDRY!!! AAAAH&lt;br /&gt;28. answering the question--mom where are you&lt;br /&gt;29. working&lt;br /&gt;30. wondering what i've been up to and why i'm so busy and tired?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gotta say I thought I could do all of the above and still write, post, edit, talk on the phone, work out and be super mom and wife.  Funny thing.  I can't.  And I feel guilty that I can't??&lt;br /&gt;Maybe some of you other Mom's can let me in on the secret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....I'm going to try to write more...although I don't know that anyone other than my family really cares to read it :) Nevertheless....just be patient with me as I don't edit these half the time! So don't shoot me down as I bare my soul :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way....thanks for reading :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-2896744646269266357?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/2896744646269266357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/2896744646269266357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-backor-at-least-trying-to-be.html' title='I&apos;m back....or at least trying to be'/><author><name>yours truly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-8966030894359044392</id><published>2009-01-21T19:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T20:01:08.269-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='santa christmas'/><title type='text'>Christmas</title><content type='html'>A lot of you have asked me about our 1st family Christmas.  I have been meaning to write about it forever as it was so wonderful and magical.  I kept putting it off until I had "time" but tonight I realize that will never happen.  So I'm going to write about it now--even though I am not really in a "writing mood" if you will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So seeing as Andy is 10 and this is likely the last year he will believe in Santa Claus--I decided to really milk it for all it's worth.  I mean I really want to do as much damage as possible :)&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, Andy saw Santa Claus.  Not in the mall--in his TV room, in the middle of the night.&lt;br /&gt;It was MAGICAL.  My heart was pounding, Andrew's heart was pounding and Andy was just beyond excited.&lt;br /&gt;We woke him up at about 2am (because that was when we finally got everything ready--who knew all the work that went into Christmas as a parent! wow) and told him we thought we heard Santa on our roof.&lt;br /&gt;He rubbed his eyes and looked at us puzzled and then it was as if it set in and his eyes grew as big as saucers.  He didn't say a word he just grabbed both of Andrews hands and crept out into the hall in front of him.&lt;br /&gt;We all 3 snuck down the hall and peered around the corner to see Jolly 'ol St Nick stuffing stockings and eating cookies--right there at our fireplace!  (I was so excited I almost forgot I was the one who dressed my Father-in-law up in the suit!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ran back to the room breathless and Andy gasped saying "I can't believe I saw Santa Claus."  "Now I really believe" (hence me saying I'm inflicting damage...hey whatever, his friends still believe.  So if you are a Santa hater back off).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew and I were reveling in this back in the tv room after snuggling Andy back into bed.  Andrew admitted that it was a lot more fun than he'd thought it would be.  He didn't think Andy believed and informed me more than once that Andy was only saying he did because I had in fact told him if he didn't believe there would be no presents.  Which is true--I'm hardcore on this...jk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow I have never seen a child so excited.  It's amazing how a tree full of lights and the belief of a child can turn a regular old tv room into something so magical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning he told everyone.  It was so fun.  He of course looooved Christmas.  He fell on the floor at one point arms out to each side just saying I can't believe this in response to all of his presence.  It was our best BEST best Christmas ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There of course is more but Andrew is starting the movie without me haha and I think that's probably the part you really wanted to hear anyway.   But don't worry or get all huffy--Andy knows the REAL reason for Christmas and we did plenty to ensure that.  I didn't just dress up Santa :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-8966030894359044392?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/8966030894359044392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/8966030894359044392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/01/christmas.html' title='Christmas'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-9064692169784186108</id><published>2009-01-21T19:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T19:39:11.051-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Andy's Prayer Tonight</title><content type='html'>Dear God,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for my Mudder and my Fadder. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for my friends and my friends at school.&lt;br /&gt;God help my friends and my friends at school who have no money and who's parents have no money.&lt;br /&gt;God help the children in Ukraine who have no homes and no family.&lt;br /&gt;God help the people on drugs.  Help them to stop drugs. &lt;br /&gt;God help people who don't believe in God...You.  Help them start believe in You.&lt;br /&gt;Help the people with no home who sleep outside, who are cold and wet and have no home.&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-9064692169784186108?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/9064692169784186108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/9064692169784186108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/01/andys-prayer-tonight.html' title='Andy&apos;s Prayer Tonight'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-5481707827069500754</id><published>2009-01-12T18:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T20:05:55.932-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time out</title><content type='html'>I don't know about you but time out went from being a lifesaver to a real drain.  I mean really when I've got over an hour in time out--who really cares?  Andy doesn't.  The other day, ok week, he was reaaaallly on bad behavior.  He gets time out in 5 min increments and let me just tell you he was up to 45 minutes!  Judge me all you want but I'm tellin' you--it was keep adding time out or pull out all my hair and who knows what else may have happened.  So...here's how this conversation went...get ready to laugh or wince...me I did both--although the laughing came much later, after the wincing, a hot bath and 3 Tylenols ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me--"Andy, you have to go to bed.  You can sit on the stairs and fuss as long as you want.  However, you already have 20 minutes of time out tomorrow so I'd suggest you go to bed."&lt;br /&gt;Andy--"I don't want to do this.  I won't do this. "  (insert horribly mean face)&lt;br /&gt;Me--"Well it is your decision but however many minutes you sit there will be the amount of time out added to your 20 minutes tomorrow."&lt;br /&gt;Andy--Screams.  Stomps.  Sitting.&lt;br /&gt;---insert clock ticking and me doing my best to appear totally calm as I clean the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;---yep, he's still sitting on the steps staring me down.&lt;br /&gt;anybody got the jeapordy music handy?  No, ok I like listening to 10yr old whining, it's cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally 10 minutes later he walks to his room, however, I can tell this battle's not over.  Oh no...it is faaar from over.  As he walks into his room and I tell him the total amount of time out he has, (desperately hoping he'll make the right decision as I tell him to go to bed now that he'll do it.  I mean surely this kid's tired) he turns and looks right at me and says "I don't care how much time out I have--I love time out.  Give me 2 hours of time out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are wondering what I did aren't you?  Well at the risk of you all thinking I'm a bad Mom, too strict, or not strict enough... I'll tell you.  Just keep in mind--I'm doing the best I can and um... well, I generally only write the good things about Andy and this is just a fraction of his "bad behavior" (bless his heart :)  that is what we say after something like that right?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, what did I do then?  I agreed and gave him 2 hours of time out.  I mean it was a challenge--and with Andy--you can't back down.  So 2 hours it is.  He says he's happy about it.  But the way he screamed as I left tells me he is in fact not happy about it at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, not only did I punish Andy--but I punished MYSELF.  Do you know how miserable tomorrow is going to be for us both.  Oh man, if only I could call in sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gotta go...Andy's been yelling for me for about 2 minutes.  I guess he wants more time out?&lt;br /&gt;First thing tomorrow I am coming up with a new punishment plan.  This timeout thing as I said....doesn't work well enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the going gets tough...the tough... go sit in the tub and cry.  kiiiiiidddding.&lt;br /&gt;They put THEMSELVES in time out.&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-5481707827069500754?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/5481707827069500754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/5481707827069500754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/01/time-out.html' title='Time out'/><author><name>yours truly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-1766220440038620823</id><published>2009-01-06T12:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T13:13:08.026-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to School</title><content type='html'>Well today was Andy's first day back to school from Christmas break. It wouldn't be such a big deal except that he has tested out of his previous school so today's the first day at his new one. He was really excited to be going to a new school, whereas I wanted to start crying. I think Ms. Edwards could tell, as she gave me her cell number--lol. Anyhow, his English is so well that they fel he was ready for a normal school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the search began... oh yeah and this was all 2 days before Christmas break. Oh nothing like new parents school searching with 2 days before the break begins and no real knowledge of any of the surrounding schools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell ya... it was greeeat. No it wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well after a lot of thought and worry we decided that the best option given the time restraints and his limited ability to read in English that public school would be best right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I started out very very worried, I now feel like it was a good decision. He will be in the ELL program, because they have more 1x1 time and it is more oral as opposed to reading (which again he is still learning) and the teacher seems great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention in order to afford private schools right now I'd have to fork over a kidney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we have til next school year to figure out where he'll go next. And if it's public school just start looking for our "we've moved" post cards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School starts at 8am sharp and you can get there at 745. Being habitually late, I worried myself sick I would cause Andy to be late. This is not something he or his Dad appreciate. You'd be proud Mom, I was right on time, actually even early "yeah me." haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The plan was for me to walk Andy in, being his first day and all, and buy his lunch tickets. But when we arrived in the carpool line he let me know he'd rather go alone. So there I sat in the drivers seat, ball cap pulled low over my unfixed hair (hey it was 730 am), smiling (to hide my nervousness--for myself and him--those carpool lines are scary!) saying "are you sure you don't want me to walk you in? It is your first day...." Holding my breath because I don't want to embarass him, but nor do I want to let him out of the car. I mean this is elementary school, not the International Newcomer's Academy with Ms. Edwards, what if someone pushes him? I gotta be there to put the smack down right? Wrong. He was worried kids might realize he was new if I walked him in. Riiiiight, because meeting you for the first time wouldn't tip them off to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok sweetie" I smiled bravely. "Just be sure to remember all we talked about last night. And don't forget to give your teacher your lunch money."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK Mom." He kissed my cheek and leaped out of the car. All 60 pounds of him strutting up the sidewalk with his new back pack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So.... this is what it feels like to be the mom of a 10 yr old. Insert me smiling, worried and happy all at the same time. This is the real stuff. INA was different, so this must be what it feels like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say as cheesy as it sounds, I will never forget this morning. Seeing him dissapear into the building. Worrying if the other kids would be nice. Would he behave? What if he loses his lunch money--he'll be hungry. I should have made him eat more. He won't think well on an empty stomach. (Wow, should I go put on my "Mom Jeans?")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But most of all Just being so proud of him. He was really excited and really nervous at the same time. But there he went, all by himself. He's so cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said a prayer that all Mom's probably pray, I know my Mom at least, as he walked out of my sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God watch over him, keep him safe and give him peace."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And off I went... back to the house to go back to bed til time to pick him up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What? Isn't that what "stay at home Mom's" do? KIDDING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back home to clean up, work out, do laundry.... you know the drill. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll see how it goes. Oh and I do have pictures to load from Christmas...stay tuned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-1766220440038620823?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/1766220440038620823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/1766220440038620823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2009/01/back-to-school.html' title='Back to School'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-1738751285299052664</id><published>2008-10-30T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T10:03:02.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Busta Blog?</title><content type='html'>So I'm signing up with Busta Blog in hopes of getting more exposure to international adoptions...mainly to Ukraine :)&lt;br /&gt;Supposedly this free site advertises your blog.  We'll see...&lt;br /&gt;Thought I'd explain this random jumbo below :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell your friends about the blog.  Maybe it could be a book?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="'bustablog_com'" style="'visibility:"&gt;JG8D69D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bustablog_com_JG8D69D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-1738751285299052664?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/1738751285299052664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/1738751285299052664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/10/busta-blog.html' title='Busta Blog?'/><author><name>yours truly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-8968811566904324495</id><published>2008-09-15T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T12:42:00.121-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The wheels on the bus go round &amp; round...</title><content type='html'>Today was Andy's first day riding the bus to school, it was 'special' to say the least.  I know you are probably thinking this will be a cute little post about how excited he was, how we all ate breakfast together and sat on the porch happily awaiting the bus...well, you are wrong.  It didn't go that way at all...lets just say the eggs are still sitting cracked and waiting to be scrambled and the wheels on the bus, simply stated, weren't the only ones going 'round and round.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andy's been wanting to use an alarm clock and begging for batteries so he can get up on his own.&lt;br /&gt;We finally decided to let him give it a try so today was his first (and last for some time) experience waking up to an alarm.  We had set the station to a children's morning program--aren't we good parents?  yeah actually that was just luck, Andrew thought it was on country haha but even with the good station waking him from sleep the alarm still had the same effect on him that it does on most people, he woke up a full fledged Grump.  Oh yeah, he's my kid and I love him, but when he is bad, he is bad...today...he was bad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'Round 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I awoke to find him dressed and watching politics on the news, which really is enough to make anyone slightly grumpy in the morning.  Seriously, why do they think we want to hear the worlds problems right when we wake up?  Can't you just tell us the latest fashion or weather?  But Andy can't even use that excuse because although he was indeed watching it, its not like he can understand it...so forget that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had on the wrong outfit, not that I'm so controlling I would pick out every outfit..ok I do, but really that wasn't the problem... he has to wear a uniform.  Solid polo shirts only and he was in stripes.  So we trudged through gettting that one resolved with about a million grunts and "fee's" (which is Russian for 'ew' or 'gross') along the way.  Oh and when I say "we" I'm not referring to me and Andrew, I mean me...and my defiant 10yr old son.  Andrew comes in later. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'Round 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we move on to what is called 'brush a tee' in our house.  That is what he calls brushing his teeth.  Yeah, yeah, I know I need to correct it but its so cute...I can't do it yet.  Either way somehow he thinks that 'brush a tee' is an option, not something that must be done at least 2xs a day.  The funny thing is he actually likes to brush his teeth...he just also likes to win and had said no when he mistakenly thought I was 'asking' him to.  Sigh, oh well, I guess I shouldn't say it so nice? jooooking...joooking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make a long story somewhat short he ended up laying in the floor crying after he refused to look at me, answer me and cooperate.  He ended up losing his bike after he mocked me--that's where my patience started to wear thin.  I now get the jokes parents tell about wanting to pull out thier hair...beat their children.  Don't get me wrong I would never do such a thing, I'm just sympathizing--so don't send me weird emails about spanking--we aren't spanking him, so you don't have to worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'Round 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally I had to get "Dad" to come help.  He was greeted this Monday morning by me pulling back the covers and sighing with my hands on my hips--full out 'Mommy Mode.'  "You better come help before I lose it, he is being very rude."  Andrew comes to the bathroom to see Andy kneeling by the tub with his hands clasped in prayer crying--it really was sad.  But before you start feeling too badly for the kid realize, he was trying to make it out to his Dad that I was confused and he really didn't mock me, ignore me and refuse to brush his teeth...see...he was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;praying&lt;/span&gt;.  (Oooh how could I miss that?  I grew up Pentacostal I should have known better). &lt;br /&gt;"Andy, are you being rude to your Mother?"  It was sweet but I had to laugh inside because what kid in his right mind would say yes to that? I mean come on...but, either way it had to be said.  Once he saw we were in agreement he finally brushed his teeth...er I mean brush a tee'd.  Battle over right....wrong!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'Round 4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out on the front porch Andy sat on the steps and Andrew and I on the swing.  I went in to get him a jacket because it chilly.  When I asked him if he wanted it he leaped into my arms and apologized... oh wait no no he didn't thats what I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wanted&lt;/span&gt; him to do...duh.  No instead he scowled at me and looked at his Dad and said "No jacket."  Cute isn't it?  Yeah I know....  Ok, that hurts but oh well... no jacket, that's ok. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insert devilish smile...now comes the good part....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see all morning Andrew was calm while I was just flat out perterbed and a little hurt--I was hiding it of course but it was there.  Andrew and I discussed it a little--one of the perks of Andy not being able to speak English fully--and even though he backed me up...etc it still hurts your feelings and your pride.   But like I said....this is the good part...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In comes Andy's bad attitude towards his Dad...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't help but smile to myself when Andy started being just as disrespectful to his Dad as he had me earlier in the bathroom.  I just couldn't help it...it was funny.  I could see Andrew's bemused smile dissapearing.  Again, Andrew is calm and collected as always so Andy has no clue he is getting to his Dad...but oh is he.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wouldn't sit down to go over his homework and he wouldn't answer him or look at him.  So Andrew took him to his room and took out an item, as a punishment.  First the beloved radio/alarm clock (which is the evil peice that started this whole mess right?) then the radio/cd player.  The first time Andy shrugged replying "harashu"  (which is Russian for "good" as in "that's fine, I don't care."  Oh and did I mention at this point he would not speak ANY English--it really was somewhat amusing).  After Andrew took the CD player Andy threw himself to the floor in a fit and started crying/yelling.  He didn't get the results he wanted as his Dad just left the room and let him throw a fit.  So then he yells for Andrew to come back.  He then had put a third of his favorite things on the nightstand and told Andrew to take it all...he didn't care.  With defiance in his glare and his hands on his hips Andy waited to see what his Dad would do.... &lt;br /&gt;(wait for it....wait for it....)&lt;br /&gt;Andrew calmly shrugged saying "Ok buddy, I will take it all while you are at school.  Right now the bus is here." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm no mind reader but I have a feeling Andy was dissapointed in that reaction.  Nevertheless our happy little family walked the lenght of the driveway to the bus... no camera and no smiling child...  We hugged him and told him we loved him as he stiffened and refused to hug back.  Then he got on the bus.  And that was that.  No resolution, no reconcilliation, no time to really even think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't think we're leaving you out of an ending...there just really wasn't one.  He got on the bus and we went to Chick fil A for a "Victory breakfast" (hahahah the joy of being the parent).  Kidding kidding...well kind of kidding.  We really did go to chic fil a and we really did enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;Of course we worried about him, but we also gave Allie (our dog) an extra treat for being so good and so easy, she never fights about brushing her teeth or getting ready :).   But overall the remainder of our morning went fine because we know Andy's a good kid and we think he'll be fine.   Of course we are also the  adults and we know these things happen so we were just worried about him and what he may be thinking.  We hoped he'd chuck his bad behavior out the window before he got to school so that it wouldn't carry over.  But we just won't know until he gets home....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it.  That was our sweet little boys fisrt day riding the bus.  First bus ride to school, first temper tantrum in America and yet he still had to brush his teeth, change his clothes and go to school.  In the process he lost ice cream and swimming for one day and the bike for 3--which losing the bike is just as much a punishment to us as it is him...but it had to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I sit baring my soul to you all knowing half of you will agree with what we did and the other half, ok or at least my Mom, will think we were too tough :)  But that's ok.  I have Dr Dobson's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Strong Willed Child&lt;/span&gt; right here next to me and between me, Andrew and good ol Dobson we'll get this straightened out.  I just hope he has an ok day at school and that God doesn't strike me with lightning for silently cracking up at Andrew being snubbed as badly as I was.   But hey, what can I say... at least I'm honest--it was funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-8968811566904324495?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/8968811566904324495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/8968811566904324495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/09/wheels-on-bus-go-round-round.html' title='The wheels on the bus go round &amp; round...'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-1789926914914496638</id><published>2008-09-12T08:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T08:24:14.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There's no place like home...</title><content type='html'>"There's no place like home.  There's no place like home.  There's no place like home..."  If Dorothy can do it why can't I? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well clicking my heels didn't work, and neither did the chant, but I'm pretty sure it's because I was clicking in flip flops not red heels--and we all know the power of a good pair of red &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;stilletos&lt;/span&gt; (I knew I shouldn't have left those, so what if they aren't practical).  But either way...we made it  WE ARE HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived home on Saturday night around 10pm.  Yuri, who now goes by Andy (his choice) saw his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Grandmaw&lt;/span&gt; (my Mom) and took off running.  There in front of us just a few feet past the security gate stood good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt; Nashville, TN and a handful of balloons one of which was a UT Balloon--which everyone who knows me knows I am NOT a UT fan...but that is how happy I was to be back, I have never been so happy to see that nasty shade of orange. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grabbed Andrew's hand as we watched Yuri running with his back pack about to tip him over and with tears in my eyes I whispered "We're home."  Andrew sighed and quietly replied "we made it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we are 7 days later and I am just now posting...I know, I know what's my problem.  Well if you really must know... Jet Lag. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man I feel like I've been hit with a ton of bricks.  I could sleep til Thanksgiving if it weren't for the fact that well, I'm a Mom now so I have to get up at dawn because frankly its hard to ignore the sound of toys falling from the top shelf and a 10yr old yelling "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mamma&lt;/span&gt;!"  Even if you are tired and even if the sun has barely just risen...  He wants to ride his bike, I mean it is daylight, is that not normal? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am 7 days home, the jet lag slowly leaving and 7 days worth of stories to tell...  We've been to the dentist, the grocery, and school--yep, he started school.  So I promise if you will bear with me I have some cute stories to tell.  I am just trying to find time to write them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise to get to them if you'll promise to still be interested :)  Because you've been with us on this journey so long, it just wouldn't feel right if you left.  So stay tuned...there's more to come.  And &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thank you &lt;/span&gt;for reading and caring and praying for us.  You will never know how much it has carried us through. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are so happy to be home, and so happy to have Andy with us the best way to sum it up is to say again that we made it, we really made it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-1789926914914496638?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/1789926914914496638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/1789926914914496638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/09/theres-no-place-like-home.html' title='There&apos;s no place like home...'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-9222684016431883474</id><published>2008-08-31T01:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T02:05:47.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hide and Seek</title><content type='html'>Last night before bed the 3 of us played hide and seek with Yuri.  Actually only Yuri hid, Andrew and I took turns helping him hide.  I must say that I was the superior 'hider.'  Yuri's first hiding spot was just in a large closet space...although it did take me awhile to find him.  But mine was even better.  Andrew must have gone around that flat 6 times looking for him.  I was laughing because Andrew kept saying "this is impossible, how am I missing this...the place isn't that big."  I refused to give him away.  Circling the kitchen, hall, bedrooms...hmmmm where could he be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew even tried yelling out funny Russian phrases hoping to make Yuri laugh--too bad the kid is good at hide and seek--it didn't work.  He even started teasing him about liking girls thinking Yuri would crack up...nope.   So, where did he hide.....wait for it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally Andrew looked over to the end of our room and happened to notice a pair of his shorts, in his open suitcase, were breathing... up and down...ever so slowly.  Ah ha there was little Yuri... in the suitcase!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After about 20 minutes (I kid you not) of searching "Mr. Vanderbilt Grad" finally found 10yr old Yuri curled into the fetal position in his open suitcase under a pair of shorts.  Man Mom's smart hehehe.   The funniest part was watching Yuri imitate his dad looking for him.  He was walking around repeating the phrases and cracking up--fully body laugh--imitating him.  It was really funny.  I know perhaps it isn't the most interesting story, but it really was a fun little game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yuri begged to hide once more before his shower so we let him.  However, this time it was Dad's turn to hide him.  In trying to beat my awesome spot he put him on top of a wall unit type thing in the bedroom.  It was good...I guess (jk)...  I only found Yuri because I was calling out the lyrics of a song he sings--I was calling out the RIGHT lyrics which Yuri insists are wrong--it drives him nuts... so finally he couldn't take it anymore and yelled out the right lyrics to correct me (well right to him).  Finding him wasn't the funny part--I have pictures to help paint this picture and will try to load them ASAP--it was the fact that he was covered, and I mean covered in dust. &lt;br /&gt;He sat up and realized it and started laughing, I can't wait for you to hear his laugh.  Its the cutest kid giggle ever.  I guess we were all tired because at that moment it was the funniest thing we had seen in about a week.  For those of you who know Andrew well you can picture him doing that funny sounding cry laugh thing--he rarely does it--it has to really be funny, I guess.  So of course hearing it made me laugh.  The joke was on Andrew though because he had to get Yuri down and Yuri took that opportunity to 'share' the dust with his Dad.&lt;br /&gt;It's the simple things ...but it was a great night...the fun comes out wherever you are I guess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-9222684016431883474?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/9222684016431883474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/9222684016431883474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/08/hide-and-seek.html' title='Hide and Seek'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-3267654924822724177</id><published>2008-08-31T01:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T01:53:10.507-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='McDonald&apos;s'/><title type='text'>3 Days later...</title><content type='html'>Three days later and I'm back in the internet cafe with Andrew and Yuri.   Except now Andrew is playing the car game with Yuri...ah my two 'boys.'  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mom has some crazy connections and I have to give her a big "Thank You" because somehow the woman managed to get our fingerprints cleared and back to the Embassy on Friday--INSANE--they weren't supposed to be back until the next Friday (7 days later). The only catch is that the Embassy here was already closed...and suprise...they are closed on the weekend and wouldn't you know Labor day is Monday. I'm actually laughing as I type because like I said, at this point getting home almost seems like a pipe dream. Sigh, oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amazingly enough the boredom has turned into relaxation...kind of. There isn't a lot to do if you make up your mind to stay around the flat, which like I said we think is better for Yuri...some sense of normal life... so we read, play, eat, walk around, go to the computer lab...and do it all again until bed time. Exciting huh? All in all though it's really not bad. We are going to the Embassy first thing Tuesday morning and hoping to get a flight back on Weds. So we have our fingers crossed...but I'm not getting my hopes up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will say Yuri has come into his own here in Kiev. I think he must be starting to relax a little and be more of himself. I don't really know how to explain this but it seems he is just more comfortable here than in Simferopal. Which makes us wonder if perhaps he thought he would run into someone he knew or something? I dunno, I mean we are talking about a boy who insists he is grown up, even though he still makes car noises when playing with his car toys :), and although we just introduced him to Jello a day ago thought he knew how to make it himself. We bought pre-made jello and then decided he'd get a kick out of making it...we were right. It was so funny because he kept telling us how we weren't doing it right--we couldn't possibly know since, you know he's smarter than us and all--have I told you that story? It really is funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that I haven't filled you in on a lot of things about Yuri and what he likes, how he acts... so I am going to try to give you an update....Here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yuri loves all things cars--loves them. This is not something Andrew got him into, although of course Andrew couldn't be happier. They go around pointing out cars and saying which are their favorites. Yuri's way of saying he loves things is to either make a motion to show his heart pounding (learned from Andrew) or to say "I love you? No?" Which in his world means do you love that? He hasn't learned how to use the phrase "I love you" quite yet. I mean he knows "I love you" but he doesn't realize that you can say "I love that...car or toy" without saying the full "I love you." It's cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've decided that if Yuri was on a stranded island with only 2 things available to him it would be his bike and ice cream. To him, those 2 items make the world go round. When we talk about going to America and what will be there he always makes sure we remember to add the bike and ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yuri's English has improved more this week alone than the entire time we've been with him. We got a little pocket translator that can say the words in Russian or English (and it was actually quite reasonable) and it has been wonderful. Yuri loves to play with it. He is starting to communicate more in English and try to learn words. We are very pleased. He understands a lot more than he can say. For some reason he likes the word 'trashcan.' I don't know why--maybe because he just learned it? But he will walk around repeating it in a sing song manner almost..."trashcan...traaaashcan..then quickly trashcan..." We just shrug and smile, ok, so he likes trashcans...interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we were in McDonald's and he burped--it wasn't loud but he proudly smiled and said with outstretched hands "Excuuuse me whole McDonald's."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whoa! Good English buddy" Andrew replied. How did he learn that? We didn't teach him the word 'whole,' nevertheless it was great. It's the simple things :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-3267654924822724177?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/3267654924822724177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/3267654924822724177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/08/3-days-later.html' title='3 Days later...'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-7797273861673645030</id><published>2008-08-29T06:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T06:44:44.609-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='USA'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ice cream'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kiev'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adoption'/><title type='text'>The Day After...</title><content type='html'>Well this morning I woke up and thought...oh well, so we are still here in Ukraine and our flight home leaves in a few hours...without us.  And in my sleepiness it felt quite normal, we've been here so long that being here feels more real than leaving.  Kind of like a mirage in the desert, that's what getting home is right now--haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am better today, man I was a case yesterday.  I kept crying, I was getting on my own nerves :)&lt;br /&gt;But today I've accepted it and there are worse things in the world.  So we have another week....  The flat is in a better location than the one in Simferopal only in the sense that we can walk to an internet cafe, grocery, stores and McDonald's other than that it's not so great in comparison.  There is no TV/DVD and we can't hop on and off of a bus like we could in Simferopal.  All things considered being stuck in Simferopal would feel much more like home.  But, I'm not complaining...ok maybe a little, you would too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we decided to try letting Yuri play kid games on the computer so he could come to the internet cafe with us, rather than us each taking turns.  We were worried at first that this may pose a problem since over half of the people in here are playing violent computer games and some look Yuri's age or younger.  However, so far it is working out very well, other than the fact that Yuri won't let Andrew help him when he is stuck nor ask a stranger--not because he is scared to ask but because he wouldn't feel smart.  You think I'm kidding but I'm not.  He likes us to know that he is smart--he says this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of smart, yesterday Yuri informed Galya that he is smarter than us.  She laughed but we know he means it...that makes us laugh.  He is learning, slowly but surely.  We have told him that although we may look like fools here we know what we are doing in America.  I'm sure he is thinking "Yeah right." He is currently grounded from ice cream while in Kiev.  This was due to the fact that he got off of the train at a stop (that was not ours) on the way to Kiev--after being told not to more than once.  He thougth it was really cute and ran--he doesn't think it's cute now that he can't have ice cream.  I will say that I didn't count on being in Kiev so long so it has now become a slight punishment for me as I don't want to eat it in front of him (which is amazing because I didn't even want it til I realized I couldn't/shouldn't).  Yesterday he kept trying to say he would do things if he could have ice cream or he'd say he was tired because he didn't have his ice cream.  It's cute...kind of...ok it is but it is bad.  We love him but man has he got some attitude.  It is kind of funny because he asked us through the interpreter "why ice cream?  can't you take something else?"  We had to laugh because it was a fair question.  Unfortunately it has to be ice cream because the bike is already gone so we don't have much else to leverage... so for now....ice cream it is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-7797273861673645030?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/7797273861673645030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/7797273861673645030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/08/day-after.html' title='The Day After...'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-7278293635166429572</id><published>2008-08-28T07:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T08:03:13.991-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuck in Ukraine...</title><content type='html'>Well I was wanting to write more blog entries before we left and looks like my wish came true...yipee....   We were set to leave tomorrow morning at 11:45am and were so excited.  All we had to do was go to the US Embassy today to get Yuri's visa.  The plan was to "request" to get it back today even though you usually have to wait a day...seeing as we were held up with passport issues and having trouble getting out of Simferopal..etc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting the visa wasn't going to be a problem it appeared and I was about to do a little 'going home dance' until the Ukrainian at the Embassy said that we had a problem.  GULP  Our fingerprints expired while in the Ukraine.  Due to the fact that we could have potentially committed a crime--in America, even though we haven't been there--we have to be re-fingerprinted.  Oh no big deal, right?  WRONG.  The fingerprints have to be taken in Kiev at the embassy and sent to the FBI in America.  Don't worry he smiles... it only takes 7 business days. &lt;br /&gt;Waterworks.&lt;br /&gt;Yep, I broke down crying right there at the kiosk. &lt;br /&gt;So we won't be arriving in good ol America tomorrow as planned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pray for us and look for lots of blogs that have been saved up due to lack of time to post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and if anyone can get to the FBI put in a good word ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-7278293635166429572?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/7278293635166429572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/7278293635166429572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/08/stuck-in-ukraine.html' title='Stuck in Ukraine...'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-5628208197767243461</id><published>2008-08-11T03:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T04:04:22.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bringing Yuri to the Flat</title><content type='html'>I want to start by saying that no matter how well I describe Yuri's first night with us, nothing will do it justice.  My hope is that once we can post pictures (still trying to figure out..something at the internet cafe won't let us) you'll be able to better get a feel for how wonderful it was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Of course after we left court we ate in Jonquoy--one last time...and may I say thank goodness because either my senses kicked in or the cook was having a bad day, because the food was awful.  Then we hopped on the bus, with Yuri this time (yeaaah!) heading back to Simferopal.  You'd think he would be a little nervous... but not at all.  When we got to the flat and opened the door to let him in, bike in tow, he said "wow."  Smiled at us and started running from room to room.  He was really excited....so were we.  Watching him take it all in was really rewarding to say the least.  He just seemed amazed.  He went into the family room and saw the tv and the cd player and just started dancing around--jumping doing handstands, flopping onto the couch and hugging us in between each.  He loves music and quickly turned on the CD player and went nuts... just doing his little dance all over the house.  It was really exciting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Inga, the owner of the flat, has a few DVD's in Russian and English so we watched a kid friendly one.  Pulled out the trundle on the couch and got Yuri set up with a pillow, stuffed animal and blanket.  He snacked on raisins and a juice box (he likes healthy food) and had his little arms propped up behind his head.  He looked so happy, so relaxed....maybe even a little relieved. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Since it was a special night we let him stay up for the whole movie.  We carried him to bed and we all said our prayers together.  He listened to his praise and worship CD from 'Babushka' (Grandmaw--my Mom) until he fell asleep.  Before falling asleep he just looked at us and around his room, and smiled.  He was still relatively excited and understandably so, and so when we heard him in his room just looking around we played dumb... Now I wonder, is that what my parents did too?  Because my sister, Jessica, and I would play in bed for what felt like hours...giggling and talking and running around.  Ah memories... Funny how having a child of your own makes you think back to your own childhood so often.  I can say I definately have a new appreciation for my own parents and the life they gave me.  There is so much to be said about feeling safe, worry free and secure.  Now Yuri is beginning to feel that way and we are so unbelieveably happy.  He told Oksana on the way to Simferopal that he was already a home child...and wasn't even home.  It was adorable.   A home child is something they call kids with parents and a home.  The others are orphan childs--it's sad. &lt;br /&gt;   I have to admit we must have peaked into his room at least a dozen times watching him sleep.  It was something I don't know how to describe, I'm at a loss for words...which is strange for me because...well I talk...A LOT :)  Loving Yuri has come so naturally and to our relief he seems to feel the same about us.  It's been just shy of 2 years since the first time I hugged this little rugrat and seeing him rest so peacefully in a decent bed with clean, warm covers and a full tummy is worth every penny, worry and stress in the world.&lt;br /&gt;   That night I hugged Andrew and we agreed--we made it, we made it.  We are a family... we have a "home child" as Yuri would say.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight with love, from Ukraine&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-5628208197767243461?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/5628208197767243461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/5628208197767243461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/08/bringing-yuri-to-flat.html' title='Bringing Yuri to the Flat'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-6974959524965613857</id><published>2008-08-11T03:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T05:09:30.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Battle of the wills</title><content type='html'>Today did not start off on the right foot, in fact even saying that is an understatement. It was more of a “knock down dragout.” 3 hour “knock down drag out” to be exact, just be glad you weren’t there. The best way I can think to relate this is perhaps an argument with a toddler who does not yet speak or fully understand language. Clearly we can see that Yuri is acting out, but we also want to ensure he understands our discipline. Good thing we have years of practice with our other children…oh wait we don’t have any other children. No wonder this was so exhausting.&lt;br /&gt;Don’t get me wrong, overall Yuri is a very good child—he really is. But he no longer walks on water. He is swimming like the rest of us. Yuri, we learned, is a very strong willed child and is used to being his own boss. We were bound to have a battle of the wills at some point, I suppose better sooner than later.&lt;br /&gt;Oksana had to go to Odessa to help with an adoption for a week, she just found out yesterday. She tried to refuse but seeing as we are so independent we encouraged her that we would be fine. In fact, after finding out that Odessa is a beach town we thought we may even join her. The plan for today was to pack lightly and try to get tickets to Odessa today and head to the beach—simple enough right? Wrong.&lt;br /&gt;First of all Yuri had an accident and wet the bed. However, he couldn’t tell us that for 2 reasons. One, of course, he doesn’t speak English. Two, what ten year old wants to say ‘hey, new parents I just wet the bed. Can you hand wash these sheets in the sink. I know that they smell like pee but we’re all family right? Luckily we picked up on it right away. Even new parents can smell pee. I know Mom, Dad I had this one coming. I wet the bed till I was like 25. Andrew finally refused to cope with this idiosyncrasy in my personality.&lt;br /&gt;First off, bed wetting is probably not a huge problem for Yuri its that his parents completely forgot the whole ‘don’t give a kid gallon worth of juice before bedtime’ rule…today no liquids after noon. I do wonder if this is in fact why he makes his bed religiously. It might also explain why when he saw me this morning, he climbed back into the bed and pulled up the covers. To spare him embarrassment (and because we don’t know how to communicate that ‘it is ok its just an accident’) we changed both our sheets and his. However, he wanted to make up for the self-inflicted embarrassment by being cute to get attention. The only problem is the things he was doing were not cute, they were quote “bad behavior.” Thus the day starts….&lt;br /&gt;As I was saying, we were trying to pack up for the beach. We then realized the clothes washer had stopped just before the spin cycle. Now the only clothes that fit Yuri…were soaking wet. (Sigh)Clean, but wet. There was our second obstacle of the day. No dryer and no Target. On top of these small problems is the continued stressor of Yuri acting out. To make a long story short, Yuri was misbehaving, not minding and pretending not to understand. Unfortunately for him his actions showed he clearly understood enough to know that when asked if he was sorry, he said “niet.”&lt;br /&gt;Yikes, now we have a problem….. He continued to pout, cry and act ugly when we sent him to his room. Mostly it was just a waiting game. I’m not going to say it was easy—it was not. The only plus side to disciplining a child who doesn’t speak English, is you can discuss how to handle the situation right in front of him. Homefield advantage for us. We eventually had to call Oksana to interpret the instructions, explanations and rules going forward. The bad part was he tried to manipulate Oksana, too. In the end after much waiting a determined Mom and Dad (that’s us) won! Now I know you are sitting there sympathizing with him saying “ahhh the poor kid didn’t get it, give him a break.” But before you do, hear me out… When he was asked in Russian if he was sorry he promptly yelled out ‘niet!’ Finally, after what seemed like hours, a white flag. A tear stained freckled face boy emerged from his room. Papa said, in Russian ‘Is Yuri sorry?’ ‘Da’ he replied. He then told us both in English he was sorry. We then bent down, hugged him, accepted the apology and told him we loved him. It was a bad battle but a good family hug. It ruined our beach plans for the day, but Doctor Phil would have been proud.&lt;br /&gt;Now that its over we are looking forward to the next battle as much as a root canal. Earlier while we were planning our next parental move (three University degrees between us outwitted by a 10 year old Ukrainian) I said to my husband “I wish I could call my Mom or Dad right now.” I then announced “I don’t deserved this I never acted this way”. Andrew smiled said, “I deserved it. Didn’t I tell you about the time Mom carried me out of Rich’s (now Macy’s) over her shoulder screaming for a $5 candy bar?”&lt;br /&gt;“So this is your fault.”&lt;br /&gt;We both laughed. Be careful who you marry. They may be carrying bad karma.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-6974959524965613857?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/6974959524965613857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/6974959524965613857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/08/battle-of-wills.html' title='Battle of the wills'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-1947651717773613185</id><published>2008-08-11T03:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T10:21:01.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Homesick</title><content type='html'>We’ve now been out of the country for almost a month and to say that we are a little homesick is like calling Rosy O’Donald a big boned. Now I must confess the first week of our journey was a 4 night vacation in Paris and Amsterdam—it was wonderful, relaxing, fun, and stress free. As many of you know getting around in Western Europe with English only is no real chore. Despite what you hear about the French or the Dutch people could not be kinder if you approach them nicely in English and many of the sings are geared towards helping English speaking travelers.&lt;br /&gt;Stepping onto Ukrainian soil has been a different story altogether. Once outside the airport the only English is on advertisements. Yet, seeing a sign reading “sports good” isn’t all that comforting-though we agree- sports are good. In the Ukraine it is my guess that 1 out of 200 people speak English. I’m including here those that know a few words they learned in school. Otherwise we’ve thus far only met 4 people who spoke English. Its those 1 in 200 however that we find most entertaining. They love to find us and practice—it is amusing. Oksana especially loves it.&lt;br /&gt;Once we were on a bus heading downtown and a guy in his mid 20’s was elated to have stumbled upon us ‘Americanski’s.’ The problem was that he was 2-3 sentences into his speech before we realized he was speaking English. Russian is a very deep spoken language, especially for men, and on top of that it sounded like he had a mouthful of marbles or something. Now I know that it sounds like I’m making fun, ok a little, but I figure the overly sensitive people stopped reading a long time ago. But it wasn’t until Oksana said he is saying “Are you from America?” that we began to decode this strange English dialect. It reminded me of a cockney British mechanic we used to use. I would listen to him for about 2 minutes and understand about 2 things he said. As I would listen I would think, ‘Did he stop speaking English? Oh no, there, he said Volkswagon again and I think ja-ah is Cockney for Jetta.’ As we listened we gathered that he learned English in the University and had never heard of Tennessee, however he has heard of Texas. By the way most all Ukrainians have heard of Texas, it does not matter who you talk to when you say I’m from the United States they get excited and proclaim “Texas!” I’m starting to think they must run Dallas on cable or something… The conversation on the bus with this young guy was hilarious. Andrew had an easier time keeping and straight face or was just more desperate for a conversation with someone other than me. His heartfelt excitement to practice English was touching, but listening to him it was hard not to laugh. Oksana and I both sort of abandoned Andrew and stood watching as bystanders while Andrew used every muscle in his brain to listen and in his face to smile without laughing. It reminded me of a Youtube video my brother in-law Wes showed us. I know some of you know it. Its where this guy has a funny voice and the talk show host ends up laughing in his face. When our new “friend” stepped off of the bus Oksana and I just bust out laughing. She said people love to practice their English, yet she’d never heard English like that before. I’m not sure anyone had. However, now we’ve been here nearly a month if anyone would be as delighted to see talk to us as that young man, I think it may make us a bit less homesick.&lt;br /&gt;Before you go thinking all Ukrainians speak English like our bus friend let me correct you—it is not the case. Although most of them don’t speak much those who try do wonderful with what they know. They know more of our language than we know of theirs—and we have a son fluent in only Russian—yikes!&lt;br /&gt;Overall the Ukrainians are very nice people, quiet and reserved (like Yankees  ) but nice. Nevertheless, a month as a foreigner is a long time.&lt;br /&gt;We’ve resisted thinking about the things we miss from home thinking that indulging in such thoughts would only accelerate our need to want to be home. It doesn’t help that the books I’ve brought to read keep talking about eating (American food of course). Like the other day I thought I read that the main character was going to Captain D’s when in reality it said nothing of the sort…strange. I’m not even that big a fan of Captain D’s which makes it even more strange.&lt;br /&gt;The food here is ok. Andrew likes more than me… of course. We found a pizza place that we love and there are even a few people working there that speak a little English. Twice when we were sitting outside people have come up to us and spoke to us—in English! So we love that.&lt;br /&gt;But I didn’t start this blog to talk about Ukrainian food, or English… I merely wanted to express my thoughts of being homesick. I don’t know why it makes me feel better to tell you all—but it does. Today has been my hardest day so far, and for no reason in particular. I’m just homesick, plain and simple. Andrew is too, but I suppose I’m the weakest link. Today I was sitting outside watching Yuri ride his bike—trying to pretend I wasn’t a foreigner for his sake (see previous blog for explanation) and doing a pretty good job until a young guy came by… I suppose I looked like I wanted to talk… He stopped and kept rambling until I finally gave in and said “No Peruski” (No Russian). It didn’t have the low key effect I was looking for because he exclaimed “Ah Americanski!” Next thing I know he keeps trying to talk to me and invites all his friends over, it was stressful and I felt bad for Yuri because he was watching as I tried to smile and shrug to show I didn’t understand. So strike one for me looking like a ‘Normal Mom’ for little Yuri…sigh. Finally I went inside to get Andrew and change shifts, but somehow after letting myself inside instead of asking him to go out and watch Yuri I just started crying. “I want to go home.”&lt;br /&gt;Don’t feel bad for me, I’m fine and even if I weren’t it is all worth it and I would do it all over again. Like I said, just a bad day, a homesick day, that’s all. I miss my family, I miss my Dog Allie and my cat Otis. I miss joking with my friends and knowing what’s going on around me. I miss flipping on the TV to be lectured by Dr. Phil or flipping on the news and hearing the unnessisarily detailed weather report. (Is it going to rain or not?) I miss green grass and clean parks and even driving. I think I’m just about to the point I might even miss green beans! :o (all the Hardin’s and those who know me know how I hate green beens.)…. Emphasis on the word MIGHT. Haha&lt;br /&gt;I will say just putting this into words has already made me feel better. Blogging is a strange thing… somehow knowing you all are reading this and sharing in our experience is very comforting. It means the world to us to read your comments and hear you say you feel a part of our journey. So thank you, thank you for helping me not feel so homesick today and laughing at us and with us and just being interested in what we are doing, we appreciate your support. Keep us in your prayers—2-3 weeks to go.&lt;br /&gt;With love from Russia&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-1947651717773613185?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/1947651717773613185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/1947651717773613185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/08/homesick.html' title='Homesick'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-6635035096960335829</id><published>2008-08-11T03:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T08:31:29.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Black Sea</title><content type='html'>Today we are headed out to the beach or as they say here, the sea. I can’t pronounce or even write the name of the place we are staying—but it is just outside of a town called Yalta. The journey was going well until they cashier told us that we were at the bus station only and we needed to be at the bus/train station—ah geez. So after Oksana talked the ticketing agent into selling us tickets anyway via cell phone at the other station. We ran bus tickets in hand to hop the next 104 back to the bus/train station we had past up on the way to the bus station. Yes its that confusing. Our bus was departing at 12:15, current time 11:30. This shouldn’t be too difficult. Oh contraire, contraire (I’m laughing even while writing this). You see it should have been a breeze however we accidently caught #104 going the wrong way. To go back to the bus/train station we needed to go under the street to the otherside. Of course it took us a while to realize this. As if through a portal of some kind we were suddenly in the countryside, beautiful hills and homes. It was the Brentwood of Simferopol just no chic-fil-a. We made up our mind to exit when we saw another #104’s heading the opposite way—the right way. The only problem is we were now in the middle of no where. (It’s a short drive in the Ukraine) Nevertheless we hopped off the bus and stood on the side of the dirt road, vast hills and tatar huts all around. Up the hill facing us were all the beautiful homes, and ta-tar huts, with goats and cows and sheep. Behind was a small village were locals were coming up the street to stand with us in the middle of no where. Hey at least with them standing here we know we are at a bus stop. Finally at 11.50 the bus came and we jumped on, headed in the right direction back to the bus station in hopes of getting to the train station by 12.15. In theory this should have worked but our bus stopped at least 10 times and by the time we were back to the bus station it was a little after 12. Fifteen minutes to go…do we stay with the bus or jump off and take a taxi….hmmm. Taxi! Travel tip: never tell a Ukrainian bus driver you need to be across town to catch a bus in less than 15 minutes unless they have 4-point seat belts and a crash cage. They take their job very seriously. In less than 15 minutes and 5 near head on collisions later we were at the bus/train station with 1 minutes to spare. Andrew ran ahead, then me, with Yuri in hand. Andrew managed to hook and land the correct bus and at 12:16 still huffing and puffing from the run, we were seated as the bus pulled out. Mission accomplished!&lt;br /&gt;The ride to Yalta was beautiful. It was windy, hilly and along the mountains with glimpses of the sea at every few turns. Needless to say we were very excited. Oksana had spoken to the driver via cell phone when we got on the bus because our bus didn’t go to the ocean lodge so the driver would need to put us out on the side of the road where we could hail a taxi down the mountainside to the lodge. Somewhere in the trip however I noticed that they person she had told all this too was no the person driving our bus, weird. Easy fix, I dialed Oksana and handed the new driver the phone. After about another hours worth of winding roads the bus stopped and the driver motioned us off the bus. Hmm… imagine being dropped off on the side of I-65 and looking to hail a taxi. But wait there was a Lada (a soviet car) sitting under tree with the doors open and the driver was asleep or passed out in the driver seat. That’s definitely a Ukrainian taxi and he was not passed out just relaxing.&lt;br /&gt;Within 5 minutes we were in the taxi headed to the hotel. It was really fun. Had we not been accustomed to Ukrainian accommodations, we may not have enjoyed it as much… but all things considered it was nice. It was like camping meets the ocean. Both are things Andrew and I enjoy but don’t come in a combo very much in the states. We stayed in little cabins reminding me of the movie “parent trap” the newer one with Lindasy Lohan. The showers and restrooms were outside like at any campground and there was a cafeteria for meals. I ended up really enjoying myself despite my doubts at first… This of course was Andrew’s dream spot—camping… at the beach! Who could ask for more…although even he wished the restrooms where nicer. The beaches were beautiful, although nothing like the ones in America. They were rocky with pebbles instead of sand. At first the substitution of rocks for sand brought mixed reviews from the peanut gallery (andrew and me) but eventually we both decided we actually preferred rocks in out back to sand in our crack.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-6635035096960335829?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/6635035096960335829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/6635035096960335829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/08/black-sea.html' title='The Black Sea'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-3439177012066923081</id><published>2008-08-11T03:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T08:30:55.372-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Called to Jonquoy</title><content type='html'>Now I know what the title suggests. Hold on a minute!… I am not called to Jonquoy, these are merely my thoughts on those people Christian, humanitarian, Peace Corp or otherwise would be ‘called’ to Jonquoy (and if anyone is with my Mother right now can you make sure she’s still breathing)? Have cleared that up… Jonquoy is where we have been journeying to and from every morning and every night for 7 days. To see Yuri we were taking a bus daily from Simferopal to Jonquoy, a miserably hot and stuffy 2hr commute each way—unless the driver feels like stopping for peaches on the side of the road while we sit in the 250 degree bus (and that’s in Celius) which is all too common.&lt;br /&gt;I must be honest if God called me to Jonquoy I would have to say “Niet!” (That’s ‘no’ in Russian). Hey, you can judge but I didn’t see you there for the past 7 days. To be candid. I am Jonah or maybe even a tougher version of Jonah because it would take more than three days in a fish to break me and I hate the smell of fish. What a wimp!&lt;br /&gt;No that I’m an expert on Ninevah but I’m sure it was a pretty foul place for Jonah to despise it the way he did. Like Ninevah, Jonquoy is considered to be the pitts and not only by me. No one in Simferopel has anything nice to say about Jonquoy, nor do the fine people of Jonquoy. One day we were in line at the bus station waiting to buy tickets and a taxi driver was walking around trying to talk us into a ride that was four times the price. Niet, homeboy. (Taxi drivers in the Ukraine are there own breed. They are funny. Think, Italian Yankees. Seriously, gold chains, loud, obnoxious, everything. They are always goofing on each other. Somehow they make us feel at home.) One day a driver asked Oksana where we were going and she smiled and said sarcastically “the most popular place in Ukraine” to which he immediately nodded replying “Ah, Jonquoy.” Smiles all around, man even the taxis don’t want to go there.&lt;br /&gt;If you ask a local where to eat in Jonquoy they just look at you with a blank stare and shake their heads. Is it really that bad? No suggestions? I think they all brown bag it. We learned this after we’d already eaten at the same café 2 days in a row. The only one we could find mind you. The director at the orphanage looked completely disgusted when we told her we’d been eating there. To which I replied “Oh well when in Jonquoy…” It was at that moment we taught Oksana the idiom ‘When in Rome…” You know the rest.&lt;br /&gt;Jonquoy is dead; really, the streets would be empty were it not for the all too familiar drunks roaming around, beer in hand, before noon. The market ends at 1pm sharp if they feel like working late. The sidewalks are in dire need of repair, houses are sad and the park is even more depressing. We went there our first day in hopes of finding a good place to take Yuri during our visits, only to find even little Yuri knew the park was “terrible” (his words). The swing sets have been reduced to nothing but chains hanging on a rusted out pole. The benches are all missing the actual ‘bench’ and are nothing more than the broken remnants of a benchs that were at one time undoubtedly painted Ukrainian blue (they love that color). There was a huge metal cage that was boarded up. We recognized it as a run down bumper car arena once bustling during the Soviet era.&lt;br /&gt;As I looked around I saw something that was once a beautiful park now only beautiful in my imagination. When seen with a little love it takes on a whole new look… I can see where the castle style slide used to have bricks painted on the siding and how the grass which now lay uncut like hay was most likely a neatly manicured bright shade of green. I imagine the folks of Jonquoy used to enjoy this place. I can see them strolling the sidewalks (before they were a hazard) children in tow and laughing carrying sodas instead of the new beverages of choice-- vodka and beer. From the looks of it this park it was at one time well- kept and well-enjoyed. And I also imagine that Jonquoy was at one time more than just a desolate town that started up at 9am and closed up at 1pm. More than just a string of half empty buildings and drunken patrons. At one time Jonquoy attracted citizens with jobs at the cement factory. Judging from the sidewalks in the Ukraine the demand for cement diminished with the decrescendo of the soviet empire. I have no clue when the factory closed down, but apparently when it did those who could shaped up and shipped out leaving a tidy train station. And like all Ukrainian bus and train stations Jonquoy’s stop serves as a sort of bait and switch to would be tourist.&lt;br /&gt;In reality, deep down I am saddened by Jonquoy far more than I am afraid of living in it. Like all things we take the time to loath I care for it more than those one hundred thousand towns I take no time to think about at all. Although I still claim the ‘Jonas’ attitude (I know, I know, I’m an awful person…blah). It’s just sad. I noticed everyday on our way from the orphanage back to the train station there is one tidy building. Its finished with a cocoa colored stucco. It is 2 stories, well kept, with gleaming white trim. There is a poster, no a banner, on the front with men in uniforms and little children all smiling (they must have taken that picture in Simferopal, because I’ve yet to see a local smile). Each day I wonder what the building is and make a mental note to ask Oksana, and virtually each day I forget. It is by far the nicest building in all of Jonquoy, in fact it is so nice and out of place that if the right people were around it could server as a start—a start to nicer buildings, not nicer in the sense of more expensive or flashy—just cared for. Could it just take one or two people to inspire the rest? I wonder if like the dilapidated buildings the spirit of Jonquoy is crumbling. I later found out my favorite building was the police headquarters. Too bad that even in the midst of this ragged, tired town, there isn’t a church with a beautiful steeple-one that seems to reach to the sky. Or people who seemed to do the same would it change things? I don’t know, I would say yes. I guess that’s why in the end ‘ol Jonah gave up and went to Ninevah (way to go Jonah). I guess God got through to him and really softened his heart because just like Ninevah needs hope, so does Jonquoy.&lt;br /&gt;I am shocked at the soft spot God’s formed in my heart for Jonquoy…really, I am. That being said, I still don’t want to go live there and even as I write this I’m silently praying God doesn’t play a little joke and test me—surely I was there long enough…. (Can someone call my Memaw and ask her to pray, I want to stay in America, I don’t know that I want to ever leave Donelson after this trip!)&lt;br /&gt;I will say this—the director and the social workers, the judge and all those working with Oksana on our adoption in Jonquoy were amazing. The orphanage there needs work, but the workers couldn’t have been better to our son. It is clear they care for those kids. I could tell by the big lipstick kisses left on Yuri’s cheeks when we left Jonquoy that he was loved there and I love them for that. It’s amazing how selfless people can be without even realizing it isn’t it? Pray for Jonquoy and pray for whomever God is calling… and, back to my weaker side…pray it’s not me.&lt;br /&gt;With love, from…Jonquoy.&lt;br /&gt;[PS: A few days later I saw this sticker on a bus stop that said something in Russian with smiling faces at each corner. It was a promotion for a local church and the words were testimonies from each person. Each one was different but the gist was this… Though this church people who were in the middle of a divorce where finding reconciliation, alcoholics were finding sobriety, and those who nearly left their children parentless found family. We later saw the church members at the bus station and after having been nearly robbed by gypsies we saw two church folks respectfully and kindly smiling and handing out the same flyer. Thanks for your prayer Meemaw I knew you and God were tight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-3439177012066923081?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/3439177012066923081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/3439177012066923081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/08/called-to-jonquoy.html' title='Called to Jonquoy'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-1394649746125986171</id><published>2008-08-06T07:48:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T03:48:21.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Court</title><content type='html'>Today was the big day in Jonquoy—court. Our court time was 1pm and Andrew and I seem to be the only ones worried that we might be late. Ukrainians tend to take things at their own pace. I’m guessing that 1pm was more of a suggestion than a command—with 15 minutes to go and we were still walking around the orphanage waiting on our social worker who appears to be a bundle of nerves. Even Oksana was a bit frustrated at our departure —this is a shocker as she walks at a glacial pace on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;    For the past week or so since we’ve been in the Ukraine we have been staying in Simferopal and traveling by bus to Jonquoy to see Yuri on a daily basis. Yuri can’t stay with us until after the court date and that is only if the orphanage directors will allow it. In case you missed the part about how much we love Jonquoy…we are not fans.&lt;br /&gt;    We made it to court 2 minutes before our scheduled appearance and not to anyone but Andrew and my own surprise—they are still on lunch break…oh well, at least we aren’t late. The director has already given us permission to take Yuri with us to Simferopal after court during the 10 day waiting period. Yuri was elated and we realized something good had happened after we signed a paper and he gave a punch in the air and took off running like crazy to get what little he had. He and Andrew and I lugged 2 backpacks half full and the bike we’d just bought him from the orphanage to the courthouse. Not counting the stuff we had given him everything he owned was on his body or filled a small backpack halfway full. Most of the things he had were from us and the others worn and old. I must add we bought him a kickin back pack—he looks so cute—people stop to smile at him, seriously they do—I know they are saying how cute he looks. We dress him like a little American and he loves it.&lt;br /&gt;Back to court….. The walls inside the court are Ukrainian Blue—big surprise, trimmed with white. There are no lights on. The Ukraians are not big on wasting electricity---everyone works in the dark, its enough to drive an American insane. Still, it is strange to be in a court room with the only lighting streaming in from the windows.&lt;br /&gt;The court room is small, about 10 benches, a podium in the center and a long table in front with a chair on either side of the judge a cage, yes a metal cage to the right. I kept waiting for barney fife to stroll in. The process as best as we could understand seemed much like an American court hearing. Even as the judge proceeded into the court room we all stood until we were asked to sit by his assistant. Aside from the lighting and lack of up keep…except for the cage to our right it felt pretty normal.&lt;br /&gt;    Court lasted about 15 minutes, maybe 2o. We got a good judge. I would love to give you a minute by minute rundown but unfortunately Oksana is better at being a facilitator than a translator. For most of the time we sat there smiling like fools hoping we looked like good trusting parents. We didn’t have a clue what was going on. We’d ask Oksana but in typical Oksana style she’d fade away mid translation… so we gave up. Basically they asked about us, our names, ages…blah.. the biggest question from the judge was as to why we didn’t have our own biological children or babies as he said—we are at a ripe age. I told him my Mother wonders the same thing, until she learned of us planning to adopt Yuri. There’s nothing like adoption to silence the grievances of a grandchild hungary parent. We politely explained that we plan on having children, but once we met Yuri we fell in love and wanted to wait until we had him. He seemed baffled but accepted this answer.&lt;br /&gt;    They also asked Yuri a couple questions, he seemed nervous. He said he did want to go to America and talked about meeting us and also added something about Babushka (which is Grandmother in Russian). We later found out he told the judge about meeting Babushka (My Mom) and having his photo with her. He told the judge “Babushka is good, I love her.” It was really cute. Finally he smiled and seemed satisfied and said “Take this citizen of the Ukraine to far America” (Oksana translated that part  not sure if she could sense our anxiety or just remembered we couldn’t understand a word!!) The translation was no sooner off of her lips when Yuri ran to Andrew and hugged him. I’ll never forget it. Andrew had tears streaming from his face and it looked as if 100 pounds had floated off his shoulders. We stood with Yuri in our arms, smiling, relieved and hugged. “We made it, we finally made it.”&lt;br /&gt;Now we just wait and pray we slip through the 10 day appeals period with no complaints from family. So far so good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-1394649746125986171?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/1394649746125986171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/1394649746125986171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/08/court.html' title='Court'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-7149340395416925457</id><published>2008-08-06T07:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T07:48:34.431-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lunchtime</title><content type='html'>So far our favorite spot for lunch is a cafeteria called “Lunchtime.” I think initially we only ate there because we could in fact pronounce it on our own. Then we decided we like it because it was the only place we could pronounce and point to the food we wanted without looking foolish when ordering without our translator. I of course also like it because, well to be honest, I get to see the food before I order it. Yeah, so what—I’m picky. Trust me, if you were in a foreign country you’d want to know what in the world was in your soup too—so back off. :P&lt;br /&gt;Oh and also—the bathrooms are great. Yeah, I hear ya laughing but you haven’t seen the bathrooms here. Just to sum it up picture no running water in most of them, no toilet seat (not that I’d even sit on it, but still an option would be nice) and no toilet paper—you gots ta bring your own roll to these places. It’s a scary, scary feeling. Anyone else know the song “stranded” (you know “stranded on a toilet bowl…blah blah without a toilet roll? Well that is most of the bathrooms in Ukraine, except add a fowl smell). So again, we love the restrooms at Lunchtime  You would too. Now go be thankful for your ‘ultra soft charmin’ and cozy bathrooms.&lt;br /&gt;Despite lunchtime being our favorite spot…. Today was our best lunch ever. No it wasn’t the waitress who didn’t write down our order and tried to bring us 4 bowls of borsche that we didn’t order (honestly, I would of taken them because I don’t want her mad and spitting in our food… but Oksana isn’t so scared) or the fact that even though we were there yesterday and tipped she acted as though she’d never seen us… And really? Do you really have that many American’s pass through these parts of Jonquoe (in America this town would be without a Wal-Mart, McDonad’s and stoplight)? Nevertheless, the food is actually quite good. We had to request a menu seeing as whether or not the restaurant has a name is still up for debate and 2 days before at lunch in Johnquoe we were robbed when paying the bill. Don’t ask me how but they had no menu and no pricing we later found out—the bill was insane… I get the term ‘highway robbery’ now—this place was indeed on the highway and for what we got—it was robbery. For all I know it could have been the name. I think Oksana was having an ‘off’ day when picking it. .. Oh well… I digress…..&lt;br /&gt;Why you ask was lunch so great? Yuri really talked today—really talked. No we didn’t understand it until Oksana translated but we could see the emotion and the feelings when he spoke—especially once it was translated. Needless to say it was a good talk, and it opened up a new side to little ol’ yurimatic as we like to call him.&lt;br /&gt;At lunch after guzzling his whole drink before the meal even came—no worries Yuri, I’d love sacrifice mine (hehe) Yuri asked about our upcoming court date on Monday. He asked if his “old parents” would be there. We probably shouldn’t find this so endearing but who could resist? He already calls us Mom and Dad and never another name—it is heart melting, it really is. Oksana told him no and asked him if he wanted them to be there? He quickly informed her no he didn’t want them there he was glad they wouldn’t be there—he meant it to0 (strong feelings do not need translation, we could see it on his face). We then mustered the courage to have her ask him if he was at all sad about the situation with his family and all. And let me just tell you this was hard and we weren’t sure we even wanted to ask…. But at the same time we don’t want him to ever resent us for taking him away… Either way, Oksana asked him about it and his reply was direct to say the least. As he rattled off Russian like a pro we could feel the ‘personality,’ shall we say for lack of a better word, in his voice. He informed her that his brothers and sisters promised him for 3 years that they would come to get him, and they never did. As he spoke his brow furrowed and his hazel eyes welled up with tears out of painful intensity and not out of sorrow. His tears ever quite reaching his cheeks and it was only a second before they were gone and he was reaching for his next bite. About that time he made eye contact with Andrew who during this painful conversation had been squeezing his shoulders and rubbing his little neck. Upon meeting his gaze he laid down his fork and reached over to hug his Dad, smiling as though everything was right in the world. And I guess for him, right now it is. Serenading this moment was Oksana’s soft voice bluntly stating to Yuri that his brothers and sisters had never even started the process, nor where they really doing anything now. Yuri didn’t seem the least bit surprised. Which leads us to wonder, how much life experience is crammed in his little 10yr old brain? We had Oksana tell him that it is ok to be sad and if you are now or ever are that we understand and it’s ok—you don’t have to pretend to be happy. He then replied quite easily that he doesn’t pretend—he’s just not sad. And that was that. This kid has a mind of his own and he knows what he wants.&lt;br /&gt;I will say it hurts me for him that he went through such a time at such a young age. He’s only 10 and has already felt the sting of betrayal as I would imagine. It amazes me that he is so optimistic and has such a happy go lucky and trusting attitude…did I mention he can walk on water…kidding, kidding.. he’s still learning :o (what?! It’s a joke…sheesh). Really though, he’s a great kid—amazing. We told him today that we’ve been trying to get back to him since we left the first time. He grinned from ear to ear (then finished off my drink… no worries I don’t need a drink kiddo). I asked if he always thought we’d come back and he replied quite confidently Yes. Yes he did.&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it, our prayers were answered. You can ask anyone close to us or read the journal I kept in the process of this adoption—I prayed that somehow God would let him know. That God would give him a peace that passes all understanding and it looks like He did just that. Just like a confused human to go being surprised that God did what was asked. If I’ve learned nothing else in this process it is patience and trust. Trust in God, trust in translators who speak no English, trust in random cab drivers and trust in a little boy with features strikingly similar to his new Fathers. Trust in the fact that God is always on time…just not on our time.&lt;br /&gt;Today walking back to the orphanage Yuri looked up at us in his new clothes and shoes…saddled with his new ‘big boy’ back pack loaded with treats and said through the translator “Today was a good day.” As he took our hands and turned the corner we knew he was in fact right… today was a good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-7149340395416925457?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/7149340395416925457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/7149340395416925457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/08/lunchtime.html' title='Lunchtime'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-4817265669447967953</id><published>2008-07-30T08:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T03:28:19.865-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Watch out for that....Treeeeeee!</title><content type='html'>Crash! Bump..."ouuuch!" Andrew running to Yuri---with his right ear attached to the bottom of the tree and his legs splayed over the handle bars. Not so good...not a good sight.... insert me shaking my head but smiling (don't worry he's ok).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I talk about the "not so good sight" let me tell you about the really good sight... the one we saw today as we entered Yuri's school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked up the street with Oksana, chipsi's and candy in hand (they call pringles chipsi's and loooove them) wondering where we could find Yuri... low and behold here he comes--like a rocket... on a bike--haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was peddling so fast I wasn't sure whether to be proud or worried at his speed...cruising is not a concept he understands just yet--it's not a race, you just pedal.. But there he was smiling and showing off--coming RIGHT AT US--but alas he (BARELY) made the turn and using his favorite stopping mechanism: a little brake and a lot of foilage-he softly crashes into the nearby bush. Brushing off his hands and knees he looks up at us with his big hazel eyes (same color as Andrews I might add) and just grins. Then we all bust out laughing. So... I guess he can ride that thing after all--what a quick learner!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously there are a few bumps along the road when learning to ride a bike and although we find him practically perfect in every way shape and form--he did have his first "crash." Insert proud Momma frowning in sympathy. He was coming around the corner and BOOM the boy just decided to use his ear as a brake with the tree being the landing spot. He hit the bottom of the tree so hard the white paint at the bottom of the tree came off on his ear. Andrew ran--and I mean ran--to his side (I was inside and didn't see it all). Yuri was of course like any 10 yr old boy a little embarassed but didn't cry. Andrew insisted on comforting him, which he is not used to, and only when Andrew had him firmly embraced in his arms assuring him it was ok did he let out a mad cry--a short, soft one, but a cry nonetheless. Our "perfect son" cries. I guess he is human after all ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry you can quit holding your breath--he really is fine. It was minimal and he jumped right back on that bike smiling all the way. I very seriously doubt it will be the last crash and we are confident it won't be the last time he'll need his dear old D-A-D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can it get any better than this....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-4817265669447967953?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/4817265669447967953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/4817265669447967953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/07/watch-out-for-thattreeeeeee.html' title='Watch out for that....Treeeeeee!'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-853749442608476377</id><published>2008-07-30T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T08:05:06.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost in Translation</title><content type='html'>I'm just going to apologize up front if this is too long.. but seeing as we only make to the internet cafe every couple days... it is the best I can do. So... Here we go :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost in Translation is the name of some movie I think--I believe it won awards? Probably we should have seen it...because lately, well we've been living it. For example, Oksana, as most Ukrainians, I suppose takes things very literally. This proves to be a problem for the average American because most of us embelish things and of course exaggerate. If this is a problem for most "exaggerating Americans" lets call it an ordeal for me :) Not that I am dramatic at all! Gosh Geeeez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were downtown shopping around and just enjoying the day--the weather here is fabulous--sunny but not humid, windy but not knock you down windy--just great...well except when you are on a bus with no windows and lots of people who just don't see bathing as a necessity--then, well then it is H-O-T! I digress... So Oksana was finished but we wanted to walk around aimlessly, because we've grown to be very good at it :) So she says to call her when we are ready or she'll call when she and "Brent" leave (he has the car remember).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We shop and walk and explore....then shop and walk and explore some more (and by shopping I mean window shopping, so redo the picture in your head of Andrew loaded down like and ox with shopping bags because well, that is not accurate). Oksana calls about an hour later and says Brent has to go and if we want to stay it will be awhile until he can pick us up. No problem we say. So she says to call her when we are ready. So...that's what we do--but boy did it get "lost in translation." Not just like oops I lost my keys in my bag lost, more like I'm in Ukraine on a street I don't know with people who don't speak my language lost. We are using this as our confession because even while trying to clear up this little ordeal we feel the explanation was also...yep, you guessed it: lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We call Oksana at least 3 hours later because even though we are not buying anything we are enjoying our time. Not only is the translation fuzzy but so is our connection. We do a jovial little game called "no you call...no you call" and I won (yippeee). Here's the conversation (you tell me how you think it sounds, remember, I'm a little sensitive sometimes (hehe):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oksana: "Aloha (not like Hawaiin aloha--sounds like halll-o-ah)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristen: "Hi Oksana, it's Kristen (duh who else would be calling her speaking English--that's probably what she thought). We're ready."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insert awkard pause..................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oksana: "You are ready?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristen: "Yes, if that's ok and you are. We are ready."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oksana: 'insert pause'....Ok it will be 15 minutes. 10-15 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristen: "Ok that's fine. Whenever, we are pretty laid back, no hurry." (of course later I think that laid back isn't really going to translate anyway.. so my mistake there).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems like a normal conversation, a little awkward but nothing too bad...right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she gets there--by foot and bus, not with Brent, by car, we think... hmm that's strange. To make a short story long it turns out that Brent was still busy so instead of telling us that she took the bus and walked. Omgosh--we stink. When we realize this we say oh no--you didn't have to do that. To which she replies "Well, you didn't say that. You said you were ready to go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big gulps. (She didn't say it rude of course--just very matter of fact). So we apologize profusely and try to clear it up... I think she got it but maybe not because we felt bad about it for at least 2 days. So there you have our most traumatic 'translation' story. The others are minor but still amusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, sometimes we ask a question and either she doesn't understand or didn't hear us... not sure.. but her answer starts out strong then just trails off. Andrew and I will exchange glances and just shrug. It's amazing how you get used to feeling confused. Blind trust may be a fruit of the spirit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BACK TO YURI STORIES......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to what you really want, stories about Yuri... We went to visit him yesterday. That in and of itself could be a story. It's about an hour and a half to Jonquoy where his school is. We take the bus as often as we can because its looooaaads cheaper than by car with Brent--although with Brent it does go faster. The bus is the funny part, funny smells, funny people, funny not knowing what is going on on the soap opera they have playing :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it is fun as well. The bus getting there is nicer than the bus home. I guess they don't have a big bus to get back home. However, niether have air conditioning and for some reason the windows won't open. Andrew, who as you probably know, rarely if ever complains (except when he is hungry and fighting being grumpy--it's true--the man is a grump when he is hungry) actually had a negative remark about the lack of air in the bus. Know I know it's probably not 'blog worthy' but since it is such a rare occasion for him to complain I find it necessary to record it for all to see. Ladies and gentleman here is what he said, somewhat annoyed: "gosh did it ever occur to them that if you don't have air conditioning the windows should at least work? Ugh, I mean people die from this stuff." And that was it after that he went back to reading. I smiled because finally he made a complaint--I mean for the first 45 minutes I thought I was alone in noticing that everyone was smelling and melting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oksana and her husband took Yuri an old bike becuase we were telling him about his back in America and he was Elated! It was very thoughtful of them. So Andrew taught him to ride--it was so great. Picture Andrew running behind the bike trying to keep ahold of the seat while Yuri wobbled and peddled and giggled. Then me with the camera running beside/behind yelling "yeah! yuri!" I have the video and tons of pictures--it was great!&lt;br /&gt;I haven't had a baby of my own yet but I would relate it to the feeling of watching your child take their first steps---yep, we're that proud.  Riding bikes is a big deal in the Bradley Household :)  It's amazing that someone his age has never had the chance to ride a bike given that it is a common mode of transportation here.  So with that you can see how very excited he was to ride.  Before we were able to take it out of the car( it was in the back of the hatch and you couldn't really see it) I kid you not he must have sat there peeking at it and pointing saying Mom, Dad and grinning ear to ear for at least 20 minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say he wobbled a lot at first but all in all his first experience riding went very well.  We are convinced that by the time we get back tomorrow he'll be a pro--or at least a lot better.  We can't wait!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-853749442608476377?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/853749442608476377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/853749442608476377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/07/lost-in-translation.html' title='Lost in Translation'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-3530796883595516885</id><published>2008-07-26T06:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T07:17:22.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meeting Yuri....finally!</title><content type='html'>I know you all probably think we have fallen off the face of the earth...we have not although being away from internet and phone for so long does indeed cause withdrawl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I promise I am going to tell you about meeting Yuri.. but first let me give you the details leading up to it... if you skip to the end you are only cheating yourself ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took the train from Kiev to Simferopal on Monday at 6pm. Usually the translator rides there with you and turns around and comes right back once your new translator is with you. Being that we are ever so daring and adventurous, we did it all alone! Yep, look Ma no hands :) more like look ma no Russian! We've become friends with our translator in Kiev and really thought it was not only a waste of money but time for her... thus we proceeded to the train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had our own carriage which is nice because if we had to be in there with 2 other people who spoke only Russian and likely didn't bathe often.. we may have panicked. It's a tight squeeze already and well... 13 hours in a cart with total strangers just isn't our thing. As soon as the train pulled off the party in the cart next door started... 4 men in their 30's with no shirts and lots of vodka. They were happy as can be. They got off at every stop to reload their cart and laugh at themselves being topless. Ok so we laughed at them being topless they just laughed because they were drunk. But it was very fun to watch, except when on the way to the bathroom one of the topless drunks brushed his stinky chest hair up against my arm. I don't really like to be touched by strangers--especially not by their chest hair. Oh well..."when in Russia........"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although we feared we'd miss our stop and/or oversleep, we did not. (insert applause and crowd cheering "yaaaa americanitz") We awoke to Andrew's watch alarm at 640 to prepare to unload all of our luggage at 7. Oh and let me tell you the luggage was a joke. I decided rather than have a big ol back pack and a suitcase I'd cram it all into my suitcase and just 'heave ho' it around... Um ok so yes, I knew that since my suitcase was bigger and it would really be Andrew heavin' it around but hey....what's a girl to do? At the last minute I regretted my decision but as Andrew "oh so tight lipped and politely (HA) reminded me--it was too late. Late? What does that word mean? There is not late in my world? Hmmmmm But in this case late would mean ending up in a place in Ukraine with absolutely no one to pick us up or even try to speak English (you know like our translator who couldn't translate?). So in the light of that fact I shut up and shipped out....with the lighter luggage...oops&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived in Jonquoy (prounounced john coy) bright and early, rumpled and probably a little stinky (no place to bathe on a train come on now we didn't just skip a bath). We looked for Alex, our translators husband... but he was not there so we just started walking. Alas, a tall Ukrainian version of a friend from church named Brent McMillian jumped the tracks and stuck out his hand. They said to beware of clever pick pockets... but this was just strange--doesn't he know that we are smarter than to just hand it over... what? oh this is our guy? Great another translator who spoke no English. We were about to blindly trust him and walk to his car when he said he was Albert... Albert? Andrew and I exchanged glances because we are smart and we know that Gayla said Alex...right? It was Alex wasn't it? So our little Vandy Grad here said, who are you with and when he replied Oksana--we knew Albert was Alex... And Brent McMillan (which is what we call him--don't worry he has no clue. Also, if you are reading this and have Brent McMillian's email feel free to send this to him. We feel like he should know since we are spending a month with his twin brother).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been at the mercy of strangers for over a week now and so blind trust is no big deal but I must say I did get a little Nancy Drew after we were in the car. Here's what the Nancy Drew in me was thinking:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why doesn't he try to speak to us even in Russian like everyone else? Why do we have no idea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when Oksana will be here? Is he Oksana's wife? (He never told us he was, she did later... after&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we asked). Why did he just pull over in a random ghetto apartment parking lot and shut off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the car? Omgosh, he knows we are carrying an ungodly amount of cash! Omgosh we are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;waiting for his KGB thug leader. Oh no this is it this is it!!! aaaaah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily the better part of me, Andrew, told me not to worry when I voiced a seriously small fraction of that worry and said it would be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long story short turns out we were waiting for one of the orphanage directors and giving her a ride to the orphanage and waiting for Oksana (the only one who speaks English) to get off the train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The orphanage director who's name I don't know yet, was very kind. Although she spoke no English unlike Brent she smiled a lot and gave us cafe (coffee). I only choked on the grinds of the instant coffee a couple of times. They like instant coffee and I'm getting good at stopping before the end of the cup--the grinds. She also gave us chocolate which Andrew of course declined because it might have "spoiled his lunch" not me --chocolate?! I will take it!&lt;br /&gt;I'll skip the boring stuff but we basically sat around waiting for Oksana and filling out paper work.  Yuri was not going to be back from camp until the next day.  Meeting Oksana was not anything exciting so I won't write about it.  Let's just say we like her she is really good at her job but the best way to sum up the relationship is "Awwwkwaaaard."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, one funny thing is when we picked up Oksana from the train Andrew greeted her by saying "welcom to the Ukraine."  It was so funny we laughed but heard Ukrainian crickets chirping for miles.  Guess American humor doesn't translate well and perhaps that is what set the tone for the painfully awkward relationship between us all.  Oh well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part 2 (sorry it's so long)         MEETING YURI&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we drove back to Jonque from Simferopal.  We stay in Simferopal about an hour and a half from Johnque.  Today is the day we meet Yuri.  As it turns out it's also his birthday.  Shocker to us since we thought it was the 10th and we thought he was 9--nope little stinker either didn't know or fibbed he turned 10 on the 25th and so we were able to celebrate with him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We pulled up to the orphanage hand in hand in the backseat of Brent's Ford Feista (actually a pretty cool ride) hearts pounding loudly in our chest.  This is it...here we go.  We bowed our heads and said a prayer.  Mostly praying he would want to have us adopt him as they made it clear it was his choice.  It is obvious this is a great orphanage and they love the kids--especially Yuri.  We step out into the dirt/gravel drive and make our way up the steps.  I can honestly say I don't think I've been so excited/nervous/distracted/mind wandering with thoughts before.. ok well I have because that's just me... But Andrew hasn't :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were just sitting working on papers in the directors office when he came in--all wide eyed and excited--didn't seem nervous at all.  I wish I could tell you how tall he is but I don't know--he comes up a little higher than my elbow and I'm 5'6.  We were sitting when he came in--unnanounced really. I turned when I heard his little boy voice and my eyes lit up--I was the closest to him and when I turned he reached for me--Andrew says Yuri actually hugged me before I really even had a chance to register what was happening--I can't remember I was too excited.  Either way I hugged his little neck and held that strawberry blonde head for what felt like ages.  He hugged me back and burried his head on my shoulder.  Andrew said he squeezed his eyes shut while hugging me and at the same time breaking to smile at Andrew.  I will never ever ever forget that moment.  All I can say is I've been dreaming of it for 2yrs now and it was better than I could have thought. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He remembered us--well.  Apparantly they told him in June that we were coming.  They then began using us as a way to make sure he behaved! Funny huh... now what will we use?!  Juuust kiddding.  The whole thing was a whirlwind and I wish I could be more descriptive but for all our worries that he may not like us, remember us and/or want us--none were further than the truth.  He seemed happy--he was happy to see us.  He hugged us both numerous times and we told him happy birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed in that office for about 45min doing paperwork.  We gave him his leapster as a Birthday gift and some other small things.   He looooves the leapster so thanks to all that helped on that with games and the back pack and gift--he couldn't love it more.  Yuri had to write a letter of consent and I can't wait to show you all the pictures and video--he was just so cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yuri was ours for the day.  We took him to McDonald's for his birthday--he had never been.  He loved it!  He ordered a cheeseburger happy meal, a chocolate muffin and a chocolate sunday.  It was adorable--he was trying to eat it all and we made sure he realized he didn't have to.  He wanted to save what he couldn't eat for later--so he took the muffin, half a cheeseburger and 4 fries (ha!) back with him.  He said this is the best birthday.  He told us (through the translator) that last year on his birthday that he didn't get anything but there was another boy at the orphanage who did and it made him sad.  Insert me trying not to cry.  However, when he said it he wasn't sad or whiney--just matter of fact.  Oksana asked what his wish for his birthday was this year and he said to be at home with his family and smiled.  Once she translated that our hearts sank...but then he finished with--in America--which meant us so we smiled and hugged him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all... it was a WONDERFUL day!&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Yuri and thank you God for making this possible.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to everyone for all your prayers--keep em coming...we're not done yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry this post is so long but I didn't want to leave anything out.  I'm going to do another about Yuri that will be shorter.  Not sure when we'll be back on the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miss you all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-3530796883595516885?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/3530796883595516885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/3530796883595516885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/07/meeting-yurifinally.html' title='Meeting Yuri....finally!'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-5722767280713990657</id><published>2008-07-21T14:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T14:39:12.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Habla Espanol??</title><content type='html'>Who knew it would take coming to Ukraine to realize how much Spanish we knew.  There's nothing like a little international travel to brush up on your Spanish....except in Ukraine! lol&lt;br /&gt;Don't ask me why but for some reason for the first week we both kept finding it our first instinct to ask questions in Spanish to try to relate.  That is very helpful in Mexico, Honduras...etc but not so much in Ukraine where we may as well be speaking English or even pig latin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how when people don't understand your language you speak slower and louder for some strange reason-like that will really help?  Well I will never do that again.  I understand how it feels to be fumbling to explain you need to find the restroom to only recieve a blank stare.  And it has finally registered in my brain that saying "como se dece....food?" only produces a pity smile.  Oh well, it has been good for a laugh or two.  We both did it out of habit.  Who knew we knew so much Spanish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it is is 1210 am Tuesday morning here in Ukraine.  Yes, we should be in bed.  However, taking a nap at 5pm sort of messes up your schedule :)&lt;br /&gt;We did Rosetta stone for about 2hrs, read a book and stared at the TV as it sputtered out broken Russian and a blank red screen.  Then decided to brave it and cross the street alone to the internet cafe.  A good decision so far.  Tomorrow our translator, Gayla (the one that actually translates into English) is taking us around.  She asked us what we'd like to do and after I answered I realized how little of my response probably translated.  I said whatever you'd like to do, we are "along for the ride, easy going."  I was met with a small pause of silence while I watched Andrew look at me a bit puzzled--he must have realized before I did how natural it is to speak in idioms and cliche's.  I'm not sure if it's jut Gayla's personality or her job to do what we want but she replied by saying she would like to do whatever we would like to do.  Oh boy... so we said we'd look on the internet.  We've seen most of the typical tourist things that are easy to find so Andrew set to work on google... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what he's found:&lt;br /&gt;Chrinoble (surely spelled wrong) it is the nuclear fall out sight and we are also going to try to make it to St Sophia, a cathedral or possibly their beach.  I did mention the beach to her before and she didn't seem to understand why we would want to do that.  She said the water is very dirty.  I explained that we mostly just wanted to see it--not so much take a swim.  However, I think we all know Andrew would probably jump right in :)  So adventuresome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm running out of time according to the flashing 5 minutes remaining sign so I will wrap this up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully we'll be online again soon.  We leave for Simferopal and Jonque by train tomorrow.  I am assuming there will be internet cafe's but if not we'll post as soon as we possibly can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we'll have some funny stories from the train and our time tomorrow...maybe. &lt;br /&gt;Goodnight Everyone....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Russia with love :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-5722767280713990657?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/5722767280713990657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/5722767280713990657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/07/habla-espanol.html' title='Habla Espanol??'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-4345110177802703591</id><published>2008-07-20T23:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T00:14:28.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Court Date</title><content type='html'>Here they call the court date our"appointment."  This is much more appropriate as it really is just an appointment at the Adoption Center.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I thought it would be but it was pretty simple.  I think I expected "court" you know like Judge Judy screeming at us... just kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning Gayla called us at 800 to let us know she would arrive at 815.  Luckily we had prepared for this the night before since we did not know what would happen.  I'm not sure if Marina, our temporary "translator" who can not in fact translate English, forgot to tell us or if we missed Gayla's call the night before while napping or venturing out to McDonald's without permission.  hehe&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't scary if that is what you are thinking.  It is seriously across the street, well parking lot really.  What was scary was ordering alone and not having enough money with us (we'd left the majority at the flat as we were told to do).  We were told that eating at McDonald's is a luxury for most people--I'm not sure who these people are as everytime we pass a McDonald's it is packed full.  Last night as we entered we realized that it was the happening place to be :)  there were no tables so Andrew waited in line while I went in search for a free table, all the while trying not to stick out like a clueless American traveling alone in the suburbs of Ukraine...  It wasn't too hard really, getting a table that is, not sticking out like a neon US flag was a bit more challenging.  For one thing North Face jackets aren't really in here--although they really should be as I've found it very useful, packs up small and keeps me warm but not hot and dry when it rains-thank you to my Mother-in-law for buying it and North Face for being so very smart.  Anyway back to my story...&lt;br /&gt;So I am settled in at our table waiting for our oh so Ukrainian meal of a cheeseburger and fry :)&lt;br /&gt;They have a few TVs up and they are playing their equivalent of MTV.  Let me just tell you how entertaining that is.  Most of the songs are in Russian but a few were in English.  The winner of the evening for the most popular (and the one still ringing in my ears) was about a girl who thought she was a cat.  A grown woman, not so much a girl.  She was singing about being a red cat, then a black cat, then a white cat... very catchy.  I think I'm going to try to find her CD when I get back home.  Other than that our cheeseburgers were the same as in good ol US of A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to court..er, uh, "appointment."&lt;br /&gt;So unlike in America when you have an appointment time of 940 you are actually seen at 940.  It is just dandy.  We walked right in past what in my ever imaginative mind were other adoption applicants hoping that "Judge Judy" would approve them.  I'm not sure how we breezed past the short line but we did.  We went up 2 flights of stairs to the office on the right and walked right past Marina (our English translator that spoke no English) and pretended not to know her.  It was kind of exciting... Well we did smile at her but we did not speak--"she should not know us" were her exact words and then she'd put her hands over her mouth like a child when they do something wrong.  We really like Marina. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were in the adoption room with Gayla our translator (who actually does speak English :) ) and a young woman who's name I don't know.  They pulled out Yuri's file and it had a picture of him from when he was 7 years old... such a cute little kiddo.  They spoke about his file and we sat there not understanding for a minute.  Then Gayla said to tell her how we met him...etc.  I know you all think I did all the talking right?  Well no, I just sat there and made Andrew do it--don't ask me why.  I apparently "choose" to play submissive and quiet when I feel like it. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;The only part I added was that when we met him we fell in love with him.  They seemed to like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yuri is apparently about to be 10--we are still confused on this topic as it either hasn't set in or didn't translate well.  I think that he is 9 1/2 but I'm not sure because I think we have his birthdate right on all the paperwork.  So... we don't really know on that one.&lt;br /&gt;They did ask us if we realized he was 10, or about to be 10 to which of course we said yes.  They said that he has 3 sibblings (which we did not know) a 16 year old sister, 18 year old brother and a 22 year old brother.  His 16 year old sister is now in school and is no longer at the orphanage.  However,  I think that is why awhile back he was moved to a different orphanage--to be with her.  They are not close though from what I understand.  His two older brothers are adults and I don't know if they were ever in the orphanage or not.  He obviously hasn't been visited so he may not really know them.  We found out that he is in good health and has actually only been in the "system" since 2005.  This is good for him.  His Mother lost her rights in 2005 and that is about all we know. &lt;br /&gt;Once they filled us in and called the orphanage to make sure he was there and all was set she smiled and said he was at camp and would be back on Thursday.  I know that he went to camp last year too.  I was happy to know he is there--because I'm sure it is fun.  And that was it... we left the building and took a picture at the door.  Gayla said that it went very well--she said as we left " that was easy." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all in all everything seems good and ready to go. We leave for Simferopal tomorrow by train.  Once we are there Oxana will be our translator and take care of us.  I think we will be able to go with the orphanage director to pick Yuri up from camp--but I'm not sure.  Either way seems like we will be seeing him on Thursday!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This all feels a bit like a dream.  We are very very very excited.  So excited that the minute we left the adoption center we came straight to the internet cafe to tell all of you. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for being so interested in this exciting part of our lives.  We can't even tell you how much it means to us.  Please keep us in your prayers.  Pray for Yuri too.  Although this will be good for him I'm sure it is a bit scary as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I better wrap up.  Sorry if I babbled and I hope that all made sense :)  Again, we are still tired a lot although we can't figure out why.  We seem to have plenty of time to sleep... Oh well :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please email us if you can. Although we may or not be able to respond we love to have your messages.  If you have any questions or things you'd like to read on the blog let us know and we'll do our best. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We miss everyone. &lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Kristen &amp;amp; Andrew&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-4345110177802703591?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/4345110177802703591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/4345110177802703591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/07/court-date.html' title='Court Date'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-193101142572910128</id><published>2008-07-20T06:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T06:56:10.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We made it!</title><content type='html'>We are here!&lt;br /&gt;We've been in Ukraine since yesterday but today is the first day I have been able to figure out how to update the blog.&lt;br /&gt;We only have few minutes here but I am going to try to type as fast as I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Amsterdam and Paris prior to arriving in Ukraine and we looooved both.  Paris was everything it should be.  We had a great hotel room also with a balcony overlooking the street. In all honesty we were very nervous what the room would be like--probably more me than Andrew as if it weren't for me he'd have stayed on the street with a sleeping bag so he could really experience the world.  haha just kidding.  But it was wonderful.  We did all the touristy things of course.  No way to update pics but will as soon as we return home.  Amsterdam was great!  We had a whole flat to ourselves overlooking the street.  We felt like we lived there..  We had a lot of fun.  Everyone in both places is really nice.  French are not rude like everyone acts like they are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok back to Ukraine... we have been here since yesterday afternoon.  Our translator is sick or something and so she sent her friend until Monday.  This is no problem but really quiet interesting as she speaks about 10 English words.  It's been really funny.  She has taken us all around today and shown us Kiev.  I'm sure we stick out like a sore thumb as we are the only ones speaking English and walking around with our pocket translator (great gift!).  We have been eating Ukrainian food and it's good.  Andrew is more daring and orders things new where as I pull out the dictionary and find chicken--I stick with that and Borshe (Ukranian Soup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a flat to ourselves here and it's just across from the Marina, our temporary translator.  We tried to get the TV to work--for noise more than anything (when you are used to living in the city near the airport the silence is just strange) but we couldn't get it to work.  Finally we did but then it was all red and black-a little frustrating but no biggie.  I was looking forward to watching a movie on the DVD on the computer but we can't get it to work.  So... we had seriously from 6pm here til 10am the next morning.  We just sat and stared at each other.... just kidding.  Andrew did Rosetta stone and sounded hillarious while I read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are really excited for tomorrow as we are thinking that we will be boarding the train to go see Yuri after court.  But again, we aren't sure about anything but court because we can't understand what she tells us. &lt;br /&gt;Keep us in your prayers--hopefully this will go smoothly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this post makes sense as we are both extremely tired and a little slap happy.  We've been in about 3 time zones in less than a week.   :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did go to a shop today and bought Yuri a book--a classic Ukrainian children's book.  You wouldn't believe how difficult it was to explain what I was trying to do :)  I kept picking up books that seemed appropriate but Marina said no no no or "neit niet" which sounds like the english word "neat"  which means no.  I finally gave up when Andrew and I realized that she thought the book was too young--not a totally bad idea as I'd thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm what else... I guess I'm running out of time at the cafe.&lt;br /&gt;The music here is awesome... just picture "night at the roxberry" haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you all&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-193101142572910128?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/193101142572910128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/193101142572910128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/07/we-made-it.html' title='We made it!'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-8597182164182869935</id><published>2008-07-12T17:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T17:31:01.632-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2 Days to go....</title><content type='html'>Well the day has finally come...almost :)&lt;br /&gt;We leave the country on Monday.  We fly into Amsterdam then we are taking the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;eurorail&lt;/span&gt; to Paris for a couple days then back to Amsterdam for day and we leave for Kiev on the 19&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;.  We will arrive in Kiev on the 19&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and our court date is the 21st!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would never have guessed that a week could go by so slowly.  Seems like Monday was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;aaages&lt;/span&gt; ago.&lt;br /&gt;But then again, we'd never have guessed the process would take quite this long.  However, it is totally worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep us in your prayers as we head out...we are very excited and hope to keep the blog updated as much as possible.  We'd love to have you add comments as you have all been a part of this journey in so many different ways.  That being said, thank you for all of your support.  We can't wait for you to meet Yuri. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't believe it's really time to go.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Yippppeeeeeee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-8597182164182869935?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/8597182164182869935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/8597182164182869935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/07/2-days-to-go.html' title='2 Days to go....'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-8225364411604193874</id><published>2008-05-12T20:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T20:22:18.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Travel Date!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;We FINALLY have our date!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;July 21st is our court date in the Ukraine!&lt;br /&gt;We could not be more excited.&lt;br /&gt;Please keep us in your prayers.  We will be leaving mid July.&lt;br /&gt;WHooooooohooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-8225364411604193874?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/8225364411604193874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/8225364411604193874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/05/travel-date.html' title='Travel Date!'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7028366332470636231.post-5084490572923745519</id><published>2008-05-12T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T20:20:43.807-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Yuri!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Well this is our first official "blog posting" so excuse me if it is too much info or not enough!&lt;br /&gt;Want to tell you how we met Yuri and give a little background info on our experience.  I can't catch this up all the way because... well, it would take entirely too long.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met Yuri on a mission trip to the Ukraine in December of 2007.  We went with Hopeful Hearts on the blessing bags trip.  Little did we know what a Blessing it would be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yuri came right up to us in the foyer of Gargarina (orphanage) he grabbed my hand and just beamed.  We've been in love with him since the minute we saw him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can see a video of this day and some footage of Yuri and us at Gargarina.  The link is below.  Please check it out-- it is really special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.&lt;a href="http://hopefulheartsfoundation.org/hh_our_videos.php"&gt;hopefulheartsfoundation.org/hh_our_videos.php&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This should take you right to it... if not it is the second video clip called:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Impressions from the Mission Field&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7028366332470636231-5084490572923745519?l=gettingyuri.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/5084490572923745519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7028366332470636231/posts/default/5084490572923745519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettingyuri.blogspot.com/2008/05/getting-yuri.html' title='Getting Yuri!'/><author><name>Andrew Bradley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a20pgVuRseI/Sefwuy25ZVI/AAAAAAABaJw/3Mt_xNKJ2JM/S220/this+is+it+paint.bmp.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
