The Day in Photos

It's been quite a day, best shared in the pictures I've snapped as the hours went by. They are below.

Just wanted to give a shout out to the wonderful visitors who came to see us today: Tauni, Pastor Ann, Nina, Douglas, my parents, and Maya & Sam. And cheers to Erik who came last night. It's SO good to have people around us during these hospital days.

This morning saw Matthew tired and still in quite a lot of pain. He slept for a few hours in his crib.

Then Auntie Nina came to visit, and we decided to try a walk.

We realized at 2pm that Matthew's mouth had been open all day. Sore palate!

Daddy begins coaxing the bottle. Matthew takes a few sips!

And a few sips more. That's all he did today, but it's a GOOD start!

Marmie and Bapa bring Sam and Maya for a visit. All 3 kids play in the playroom.

Matthew enjoys many books read to him today.

We take his mitts off for a few minutes so he can enjoy playing with his hands.

Finally I get a "sort-of" smile from my boy!

"Oh, it feels SO good to clap my hands together."

A diaper change brings a new outfit: the yellow hospital baby scrubs (mitts included!).

Maya and Sam bring artwork to decorate Matthew's room.

And Maya draws two LOVELY birthday banners.

Even with the mitts, Matthew figures out how to play with his favorite panda bear.

It's been quite a day here at Seattle Children's Hospital. I don't know who is more tired out: Matthew or his parents. Aaron will go home and get a good night's sleep tonight, and I'll stay here and spend another night with Matthew. Thank goodness my dad will come in the early morning to be my co-partner tomorrow.

I am praying hard that our boy FINALLY takes a real bottle tomorrow so we can go home. Our nurse just told us that as soon as he's eating regularly, we can go home--which could be tomorrow or Friday. Yikes. I don't know how any of us will survive yet another night in the hospital. I'm banking on tomorrow being our "food day."

Happy Birthday, Matthew!

Well, being in the hospital probably wouldn’t be Matthew’s first choice for how to spend his 2^nd birthday, but here we are so we’ll make the best of this day.

First a quick update: the night was long and loud, but we all managed to get some sleep, and I would say that Matthew is doing a little bit better today compared to yesterday. He’s still unwilling to eat anything—and we’ve tried every possible option: formula from a bottle, formula from a sippy cup, applesauce, yogurt, warm tea. I think his mouth must just hurt A LOT and putting anything in it feels terrible. We can’t go home until he’s eating, and we hope to go home tomorrow (Thursday), so food will be one of our goals for today.

Later this afternoon my parents will bring Maya and Sam for a visit so they can say Happy Birthday to their littlest brother.

I woke up thinking about this day a year ago. Last year, November 28 was a Monday night. It was just after Thanksgiving. We knew it was match day, so all day long I remember anxiously awaiting the potential call from Heidi, our China team case manager. We decided to go out to dinner at Bob’s Burgers and Brew, just to kill some time, and in the middle of our meal the phone rang and it was Heidi. I ran outside to talk to her, and she told me those magical words: “We have a match for you. It’s a little boy with a bi-lateral cleft and palate. His name is Xu Bo and today is his first birthday.”

I remember running back inside to tell Aaron, Maya and Sam, then driving home and opening up the email with the referral and photos. Since it was Xu Bo’s first birthday, we lit a candle, took photos, and sang “Happy Birthday” to him. In that moment, we hadn’t decided if we were going to say yes to his referral, but I remember telling Aaron that no matter whether he was going to be our boy or not, it was special that someone in the world was thinking about him and sending him birthday wishes.

And now we have that little boy in our family—in our arms—in our lives. What a special gift.

Since we are in the hospital for Matthew’s birthday, we celebrated last Saturday night when all our family was still in town. We sang Happy Birthday to Matthew, let him eat birthday cake, and helped him open his presents. I’ll attach a few photos to the bottom of this post so you can see us celebrating with our boy.

I know this is kind of a crazy day, but in the midst of it all, I’m SO grateful for this amazing human being who is part of our family. His giggles and laughter bring such life to our household. His courage and strength inspire me to bravely face whatever challenges come my own way. And the gift of his life is something I am thankful for each day.

Happy 2^nd Birthday, Matthew. I know you’ll have better days (hopefully VERY soon), but even today, when you’re at your worst, this mama is so thankful that you were born, that you came to be part of our family, and that we get to watch you grow for so many birthdays to come.

His birthday cake with candle.

Our family of five.

First bite of birthday cake.

Let them eat cake!

He's ALMOST smiling in this photo.

Here he is opening a present from Grandma Russell.

He's All Done

Well, I’m happy to report that we’ve been assigned a room and finally, at 4:45 this afternoon, they wheeled Matthew into us. It’s SO good to see him. He looks like he feels wretched . . . I’m going to include a couple of photos of him at the end of this post, but be warned that he has just come out of surgery so he’s not looking his best (imagine that!).

We are grateful that he’s all done. It sounds like the repair was more complicated than our surgeon initially thought it would be—something about Matthew’s mouth tissue being fairly thin and his mouth already being pretty tight and there being a bunch of hard corners to repair. Anyhow, they had to spend some extra time with him in the operating room, but in the end, the repair is a success. Now we just need to be vigilant about keeping his fingers and other objects out of his mouth so it can heal.

I’m kind of bummed because the hospital is really full tonight so we’re sharing a room—and we are stuck in the bed that’s closest to the door, with no window view. We’re right outside of the nurse’s station, so it’s also very loud. I have no idea what kind of sleep Aaron and I are going to get tonight, but I for one will try and do some sleeping. I’m totally exhausted.

Aaron had a full line up of clients today, and soon he’ll join us at the hospital. My mom will go home sometime this evening. Maya and Sam have been with my dad all day, and they will be glad for Marmie to come home so they can hear all about how Matthew is doing.

It’s been a long day for all of us.

We are expecting some visitors tomorrow, which will be nice—Being in the hospital with a child is kind of a surreal experience. I’ve already eaten enough food from the hospital cafeteria to last me a lifetime!! But I expect to be here until at least Thursday.

So the next few days are filled with trying to keep Matthew as comfortable as possible while also encouraging him to eat. He needs to be drinking and peeing well before we can go home. Right now he’s mostly resting, although he wakes up and whimpers once in a while. My mom was singing to him a few minutes ago and he gave her a couple of good smiles. We’re both wondering if perhaps he’s hearing our voices more than he used to. It will be fun to see how his newfound hearing plays itself out.

Anyhow, just want to say again how much I have appreciated all the texts and messages and emails today. I have carried that strength with me all day long. If you are a praying kind of person, please pray for Matthew’s healing and that we can do a good job managing his pain. I’m SO grateful for the deepened level of attachment we have with him now in November as compared to when he had his lip repair in August. I feel confident that I can comfort him with my words and snuggles.

And as ever, I remain both SO sorry that he has to go through all of this (one of those unfair things about life) and also so grateful for the care we receive here at Seattle Children’s. It’s an amazing place, both for kids and for parents. I don’t know how we’d do this without such child-centered care.

I realize he looks rather wretched in this photo. I suppose he FEELS wretched too.

Here he is getting some sleep. Those mitts will have to stay on his hands for a week or two . . . no fun!

A Little Mid-Day Update

I just got paged and got an update from the operating room. Looks like everything is going well. Dr. Tse (pronounced “Jay”) is still working—he’s a very meticulous doctor, for which we are so grateful. I just told my mom that if there is one person in your life whom you want to be known as very “meticulous,” it’s your plastic surgeon. Hooray for Dr. Tse. The nurse also said Matthew’s vitals are VERY stable and he seems to be peacefully resting, totally unaware of the major reconstruction going on in his mouth.

I talked with the Ear, Nose & Throat surgeon about 2 hours ago, and she had successfully placed the tubes in Matthew’s ears. She also said that there was a significant amount of fluid in his ears, which was probably affecting his hearing in a major way. She thought when he woke up, he’d finally be able to hear normally . . . wow, what an added bonus to today’s many procedures.

Mom and I are sitting in Starbucks. I just finished a cappuccino, and Mom is drinking some tea. She’s playing cards. I was reading, and now I’m on the computer for a few minutes. We’re looking out at the sunny Seattle sky and the brilliantly changing leaves (I still see red and orange leaves out there!). Being in the hospital is not my favorite thing in the world, but today feels manageable and pleasant. I’m really glad Mom is here with me—she’s a good companion for a day like today.

More soon. I’m going to add a couple photos to this email—taken last night as we were preparing for surgery. The first two are at the dinner table. The other is right after his bath. I had to wash him with this soap called Hibiclins—it’s slimy and has to sit on his skin for five minutes. Fun times.

And I tell you, for the life of me I can’t get any pictures of Matthew when he’s smiling. He is actually a very smiley kiddo, but the minute I pull out the camera, he gets this ultra-serious look on his face. Last night was no exception. But there he is, totally unaware of what the next day would bring for him. My only consolation right now is that he’s still blissfully unaware. In a few hours, he’ll wake up and have to start dealing with pain and healing, but right now I hope he’s dreaming of something happy and glorious. ZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Messy from yogurt!

No smile, but he's got animated hands.

After the bath. He actually LOVES baths--he just hates cameras!

Surgery is On Its Way

We’re at Children’s Hospital right now and Matthew has gone into surgery. We had big questions this morning about whether or not they were actually going to do the procedure—especially since Matthew had been battling a cold last week, through the weekend, and into this week.

However, when the anesthesiologist came to examine him, she said his lungs sounded clear! So we got the green light.

At around 9am this morning, I gowned up in the big white suit (again!) and carried an awake Matthew into the operating room. He’s such a trooper with all these surgeries and procedures—he fussed a little bit, but was mostly just chill and looking around. He once again had on a little, tiny Looney Tunes gown, and these giant red socks. I have to admit that he looked adorable.

I loved seeing the friendly, familiar face of Dr. Tse, our surgeon, in the operating room. His nod and smile reassured me that he would once again take good care of my boy.

So now we wait. Mom is here with me again this time, so I have a very patient, calm companion for this day. We expect to hear a few updates as the procedure goes along, but I don’t think we’ll probably see Matthew until about 2 or 3 this afternoon.

Dear friends and family, we appreciate your continued prayers and thoughts for Matthew throughout this day. I am SO grateful that the surgery is going as planned—that soon he’ll be done with the palate repair—and that we can begin the healing process.

I’ll update more as the day goes along!

Northwest November Adventures

So far this November, we've been blessed with amazing weather and a special visit from some dear friends.

One thing that has become very important to us is to cultivate friendships with families who have also adopted children. We feel lucky that our friends the Dolenc family, whom we've known and had many adventures with over the years, were a year ahead of us in their own adoption adventure. One year before we brought Matthew home from China, they brought their son Toben home from Ethiopia. We have loved the connections we've shared since we both got home with our boys, and felt incredibly blessed to spend five days with them earlier this month.

They came all the way from Colorado to visit us, so we just HAD to show them some of our favorite spots in the Pacific Northwest. A day trip to Whidbey Island complete with a gorgeous, oceanside hike, was probably the highlight of our time together.

It has been so nice to do some normal things in the midst of Matthew's medical procedures. Next Tuesday (November 27), we take him to Seattle Children's Hospital to have his cleft palate repaired. We've been told this is probably the "worst" surgery of all, since the mouth is very slow to heal and kids feel really down and out for quite some time. Of course the surgery and recovery are kind of looming above us, so we have appreciated the distraction of a visit from our friends, as well as other fun times with people we love.

Here are some shots from this month so far. I anticipate several posts about Matthew's surgery and recovery, but I thought it would be nice to have a couple showing our semi-normal life, which is how things are most of the time.

Here are Sam and Matthew with their cousin Parker on an ordinary November play day.

The Russell and Dolenc kids on our Whidbey Island hike.

Me and my girl!

Isn't this view breath-taking? I ran ahead to shoot the hikers coming across this ridge.

Maya and her forever-buddy Lucie.

Sam LOVED running down this sand spit.

Walking back to the car on the beach.

I wanted you to see some Matthew tickles. This boy LOVES to giggle.

And here he is laughing some more.

A Boy on the Mend

Matthew seems to be back to his old antics today, and although it seems like he’s dealing with a little bit of pain in his mouth, he’s mostly just his same good-natured self. We are grateful.

Surgery yesterday went just fine. It was a long day that included a lot of waiting (we were called back about an hour later than we expected) and a few surprises, some of them good. Instead of extracting two teeth, the pediatric orthodontist only pulled one. We also got a really specific evaluation of his mouth and teeth, and although his mouth is a little “unusual,” in the words of Dr. Sheller (which is pretty normal for kids with clefting issues), it’s also very workable, for which we are grateful.

The best news for me is that barring any other necessary plastic surgery procedures in the next couple years, once Matthew’s palate is repaired, the next surgery won’t be until he’s between 7 and 9 years old. That means we have a good five years until we again have to take our boy to Children’s for an operation.

One of the favorite parts of my day yesterday had to be all the conversations I had with other parents of children with clefts. I spoke with a woman whose daughter is from the same province in China that Matthew was born (Guangdong)—the daughter has had all her cleft work done at Children’s, and she’s about 9 years old now. She looked terrific. I also talked with a family whose 14-month-old birth son was going in for palate repair.

With all these parents, there is a sense of connection and community that I feel so thankful for. In some life’s adventures (like adoption or cleft lip/palate repair), I have the tendency to feel a little bit lonely or isolated in our specific journey. Talking with parents who understand the layers of attachment and surgery encourages me in ways I can’t describe.

We’re tired on this Halloween afternoon. Maya and Sam will soon dress up and go to a neighborhood friend’s party, then we’ll spend the evening with our family friends the Petersens (and their extended family and friends), which is our usual hangout on Halloween night. It will be very low key, which is perfect for us. I’m anxious for some rest—for Matthew, for me, and for the rest of the family. Even the most simple, straightforward surgery takes its toll on everyone. We are so thankful for the extra love and support from my parents yesterday—my dad, who was my companion at the hospital, and my mom, who took care of Sam and Maya while we were away.

Here are a couple pictures to share with you—one of Matthew in my arms, asleep, just before I carried him into the operating room. He actually slept through the anesthesia mask, which meant his start to surgery was blissful!

And below that are a couple of shots from today. It’s so nice to report that all is well, we’re on the other side of surgery, and healing abounds!

Just before walking Matthew into the operating room

Playing at home this morning

A bruised mouth

He looks so innocent in this shot . . . but don't be fooled!

Dental Surgery

We head to Children’s Hospital for Matthew’s dental surgery today. We had a big round of scheduling mishaps last week (first they confirmed, then they cancelled, then they put us back on the schedule) so we ended up with an 11am arrival time, which isn’t terrible but it’s also not ideal.

One challenging thing about surgery for me is not being able to give Matthew a bottle when he wakes up in the morning. For an 11am arrival, he is allowed solid foods until 4am, and then nothing until after surgery. I did get up at 3am and feed him a bottle in the middle of the night, just because I know it’s going to be a long morning until surgery and I wanted to give him a little middle-of-the-night nourishment.

It’s also just hard to see your child on the operating table and know that for two hours, he’ll be intubated and under anesthesia. Surgery today is just work on his teeth—he’ll have two teeth pulled, a cavity filled, a series of extensive x-rays taken, and then probably a cleaning and exam. It’s not the procedure that worries me, but the anesthesia.

Today I will gown up and carry Matthew into the operating room. I’ll lay him on the table and wait with him until the anesthesiologist puts the gas mask over his face and he falls asleep. It usually takes about 20 seconds for him to be totally out, and during that time he’s scared and squirming on the table. When I did this the last time, I just rubbed his arms and legs and sang to him until he was asleep. It’s hard for me—really hard—but it’s also important that I be the last person he sees and hears, so that if my presence or my voice offers any comfort, I’ll be with him.

I hate that Matthew has to go through all this. He’s already transitioned cultures and homes, joined a new family, and worked so hard to grow, learn, and settle in. I’d give anything to let him avoid the fear and pain of surgery too.

But of course I keep telling myself that he wouldn’t be with us without his cleft lip and palate—that the reason for this surgery is also the blessed reason he is part of our family. It’s messy and very un-tidy, but I’m trying to see goodness in surgery today, because I know that his operation gets him one step closer to a more full sense of health in his body.

Thank you for your prayers and thoughts today. My dad will go with me to the hospital to keep me company. My mom will be home with Maya and Sam, and Aaron has a full load of clients to see on Tuesdays, so he’ll join us at home when we get there.

It’s so encouraging to know we aren’t alone going through all these experiences. They certainly aren’t horrible—because they are infused with a deep sense of hope for healing for Matthew—but anything with hospitals and surgeries makes both Aaron and I feel pretty anxious. We are blessed by the support and love of our family and friends.

So thank you.

The Making of a Boy

It happened in an instant, so quickly that I hardly recognized how much it mattered. Just like every other act of parenting that I’ve witnessed—in such an instant that if I wasn’t paying attention, I would have missed it.

But I didn’t.

We were playing last night, Matthew and I, on the kitchen floor. It was after dinner. Some friends were with us, and they were playing cards with the big kids at the dining room table. Matthew and I were giggling and playing together. That’s when it happened.

He turned from me, lost his balance, and landed on his face on the linoleum. It was a pretty good fall, and his two crooked teeth in the front of his mouth pierced the inside of his lip, causing a lot of blood.

He started to cry and wouldn’t stop. I scooped him up and began to rock him, singing him a mama lullaby and holding him in my arms. I wiped his mouth, snuggled him for a second, and then sat on the floor to distract him with toys.

A few months ago, after his lip repair, my boy wanted nothing to do with me. When he was in pain, he’d sink to the floor and cry, letting the cool wood soothe him along with his tears. He didn’t want me to touch him. And last night, as I sat on the floor, I watched him do that very thing—he turned from me, knelt on the floor, and cried harder.

But this time, something was different. Even as he lay on the floor, he kept turning and looking at me over his shoulder. Than it happened. He stood up, walked back over to me, put his arms up, and sank into my breast as I rocked him close.

The floor no longer comforted him. It was mama that he wanted.

As I held my boy, rocking him over and over again, his blood and tears pooled on my shoulder and then my tears joined his own.

This is the making of a boy, these moments when pain becomes joy, when a baby finally understands that strong, warm arms are more comforting than a cold, hard floor. This isn’t something that a boy learns with words, but instead by the touch of skin, the feel of kisses on his head, the sound of a mama’s heartbeat, the smells of body and shampoo and breath.

And this is what being a mama is really about—not just a growing baby in the womb, but the hours and days of loving and holding, of tending and healing.

So ask me where where my heart is found these days, and this is what I'll answer: it's here, weaving a colorful tapestry for all three of my children—of love born of body AND of heart, of moments so small that I might have missed them if I wasn't paying attention.

Learning to Be a Baby

A good friend messaged me earlier this week because she had been looking at all the photos of Matthew on our blog and on Facebook and she had noticed that there weren’t any pictures of Matthew smiling. She remembered several photos of him before his lip repair with a HUGE grin on his face, and she wondered if his temperament had been affected by the surgery.

I wrote her back, telling her about last night’s dinner hour when Matthew was giggling and hamming it up for the other four of us for most of the time we were eating. It was an honest question, though. I realized I haven’t taken a lot of photos where he’s smiling. For a few weeks after the lip repair, his lips were sewn so tightly together that he couldn’t smile very well. But now that everything’s relaxed, he’s back to his big, wide-mouthed smile.

I’m sorry I’m terribly behind in keeping up this blog. There are so many things I’d like to report, but life is busy and I’m struggling some days just to keep up with the living of it. There’s very little time for virtual living right now.

I will share that Matthew continues to attach to our family, and I’m literally watching him become the baby that he never had the chance to be in the orphanage. I can tell he’s getting comfortable being part of our family. It’s in the little things—like the way he literally molds himself into my body while eating a bottle, kicks his legs, makes little sighs, and snuggles close to me. It’s in the way he puts his head on my shoulder at night while I’m singing him goodnight, how he runs giggling into my arms when I sit on the floor to play with him.

A baby in an orphanage really isn’t a baby at all—he’s a little person who learns to console himself when his needs aren’t met—he learns that grown ups don’t always take care of you, that sometimes you have to take care of yourself. But here, in our house, Matthew is learning that there is always enough food, that when he falls down and cries, someone comes and picks him up. He learns that he can be a baby and trust the grown ups to take care of him. He’s literally moving backwards, becoming a baby, and it’s so lovely to see.

He’s also moving forward, though. He’s signing “all done” when he’s done eating. He’s doing a great job eating food at the table (although his table diet consists mostly of Tillamook vanilla yogurt) and he has taken to the spoon and easily swallows food (instead of spitting it out, as he used to do). Instead of just lying on the floor picking up toys and dropping them, he’s actually making “vroom-vroom” noises with cards, giving kisses to stuffed animals, filling containers and dumping them out again—all types of play that are more developmentally appropriate to his age.

It’s kind of miraculous to watch.

We’ve had our fall surgeries scheduled too, which makes my stomach hurt when I think about them too much (mostly because I hate that Matthew has to live through more pain). He will have dental surgery on October 30, and his palate repair is scheduled for November 27 (the day before his 2^nd birthday, boo-hoo!).

But as Aaron and I keep telling ourselves, by December 1, all his major surgeries will be over for quite some time. And the next time Matthew goes into the operating room, we’ll be able to talk with him and explain what’s happening, and he can tell us when things hurt so we can do a better job managing his pain.

Here are some new photos of our boy—I can’t believe how he’s growing and changing. And Aimee, some of these are especially for you—the smiling ones! Plus a little video of my giggling boy.

Learning to Love

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I almost don’t dare write it just in case for some reason making it permanent in typeface somehow undoes the truth of it: life is pretty good around our house these days.

I’ve realized in the past few months that the best way to attach to a new child is just to give it time. Time to learn to love each other. Time to become familiar and develop some shared history.

Life isn’t perfect—tied up with a big red ribbon and smooth around the edges. We are still settling into what this new family looks like, as we share space and time and moments together. But more and more Matthew is one part of a whole—one person in a five-person family that we are becoming together.

And I’m grateful.

There are subtle ways that I know Matthew is feeling more connected to us—like how he comes up to me and raises his hands to be picked up, or the fact that when he gets hurt, he lets me comfort him. Tonight after his last bottle of the day, he stayed in my arms and sucked on the empty bottle for a good 20 minutes while I rubbed his belly and his feet, and he was content to be with me and feel comfort being held in my arms.

And today I swear he did the sign for “all done,” shaking his hands when he was ready to get down. It might have been coincidence—I can’t say for sure. But when I sign words and phrases to him, he watches intently, and I know he’s learning so many things and making a zillion connections right now.

I must admit that adopting a child isn’t at all what I expected in many ways. I was hoping to feel attached from the start, and instead it’s taking time and effort. But that’s the way it is parenting any child, I’m quite sure—you have to put in the time and effort to really be a parent. That’s how you do it. There aren’t any shortcuts—not now and not then.

Here you can see how his lip is healing so nicely.

On Sunday we will have had Matthew for four months. Four. In some ways that sounds like a long time, but when I really think about it, it’s hardly just a a few months scratched off a calendar in the whole scope of a lifetime. Four months we’ve had together, and we’re on our way, though we’re not there yet.

And Maya and Sam are the best examples to me of just letting things go—of not over-thinking everything. They have welcomed Matthew into our family with open arms, never questioning his presence from the moment he came home. Sure, he annoys them once in a while like every little brother does, but they are also the ones who can make him laugh the loudest. Sam has taken to letting Matthew chase him around the dining room table, and I giggle with delight when I hear my two boys laughing and chasing around, one after the other.

And Maya spends a lot of time each day playing with Matthew—bringing him toys, maneuvering him around the house, and making sure he’s not alone or without something to do. I see in her the “mother hen” instinct.

I feel grateful that Matthew has two such loving siblings who have welcomed him into our family with such love and laughter. 

So I’m happy to honestly report that we are doing well. We still have hard days—and I feel, often, this transition of adoption deep in my heart where I wish with every ounce of me that this sweet boy could have been spared such a rough start to life. But then I’m struck once again with the knowledge that without the early losses in his life, he would never have been part of our family. And although I know that I’d give him back his biological family in a second if I could, a part of me is also so grateful that he will be part of our family forever.

It’s like the rest of life—lovely and complicated and messy too. But it’s our life, and we are grateful to have each other, and we’re grateful to have you too, dear friends who continue to read our blog. Your love and support and kind words mean so much to us along this path.

Some happy scenes from our house

Life moves on as we start school and begin another academic year, this time with Matthew here too. Some days are easy and some are hard, but we are settling into a new normal, for which I am grateful. I haven't been the best blogger, I know, because my focus has been in a zillion different places. But here are some sweet shots of life at the Russell house these days.

The kids at Aaron's friend John's wedding on September 1

First day of school for Maya and Sam (2nd grade and preschool)

Our second grade girl!

They are both smiling--that's good!

Sam heading off to his second year of Acorn preschool

Mattthew!

We made this tie-dye t-shirt at Holden Village this summer

And now he walks EVERYWHERE!

My friend Emily came to visit and meet Matthew