Happiness is . . . Bereket

Blessings upon blessings is my little blessing (the meaning of his epic name--'Blessing', that is). The staff that cared for Bereket in Ethiopia described him as "the smiley one". Yet for much of the teen months, Bereket appeared uncomfortable, anxious, listless; worn out, stressed, and unhappy; overwhelmed by his brothers and maybe just a little undercared for by his tired and hand filled parents. Or perhaps it was the dreadful molar appearances that zapped my Bereket's spirit and body. Indeed, he failed to budge an inch vertically in 6 months when most babies are stretching at alarming rates. Sira was having a fit full time of it as well and wanted papa's arms day and night (yet Tsega didn't seem to notice his teeth at all). Personalities were morphing for the worser and I seriously questioned my boys' happiness. You know how Americans think; happiness is everything.

Slings got us through it. When arms fail, slings (or mei tais, ergos, whatever baby wearing fashion), tight and pressed firm to a caring body, reach a baby's soul. The soothing powers stitched within cannot be matched outside the womb. Bereket still comes to me with sling in hand, seeking the tight confines the cloth provides against my body, like a warm cave, away from brotherly predators.



My favorite Bereket pose: angel flying.


Now my little 1/3 at two years old (26 months to be exact), is becoming quite the silly goof ball. A real spit-fire. And once shy and easily intimidated, his social butterfly/angelical wings have spread. As long as he is smiling, laughing, and teasing, I can be happy. And with more happiness, came 3 inches of height during the next 6 months.

Bereket, you can lay down at the zoo anytime you want, as long as you keep smiling.






Bereket totally exhausted after a very happy day. Sira, no more poking him in the car, please.