Dear Baby,

Dear Baby,

Today your American Mom lost someone very important to her. I wish you could have met her, and she could have met you. She was a joy. She was kind to all, had a deep love and compassion for people and animals, and smiled much easier than frowned. She was the infamous cleaning bug, fellow dusting partner, and treasure hunt map maker. Christmas time brought cookie making and painting windows (your mom on the left side windows, Uncle Jer on the right), along side a three foot Santa that all were forbidden to touch the beard of, or face dire consequences.
She taught your mom to sing ‘Frer Jaques’ and ‘Mairzy Doats’ and greet the morning with “How do you do, Andy Gump?”, but even she didn’t know all the words to that one. Most of the ditty was filled in with ‘boo-hoos’ and ‘na-na-na-na-na-na-nas’. Maybe that wasn’t even a real song? If not, she sure had your mom fooled.
She would laugh every time her hair was rumpled, with the punch-line ‘it is a brain-sucker, and it is starving’. That one never got old.
She was patient, but if something did get the best of her, she would either let out a “bueshamy bueshamy ” (probably not even close on the spelling, and don’t know what it means, either… did you make it up, Granny?) or the famous “Lord love a duck”. No one could proclaim the Lord to love a duck like she could.

The world lost a special person today, one whom I wish you could have been privileged enough to meet. I know she would have loved you.

I miss you already, Granny.
Lord love a duck, that is just how life is, I guess.

All my love,
Your American Mama.

Wishbone

I had a post turkey dinner epiphany the other day. As the wishbone sat drying, I thought - if Brad and I can compromise and come up with the same wish, then it won’t matter whose piece of bone is bigger after the break – it is a win-win! We ran into a little issue with telling each other our wishes, though… After all, it has been engrained into everyone’s mind since childhood that if you tell someone your wish it won’t come true. Finally we came to conclusion that if we just studied the wishbone, you can usually tell which side is going to triumph. That is not cheating the system, that is just being clever.

He was kind enough to let me be the winner, I am guessing he probably knew my wish was better than his anyway (*hint:* mine did not involve anything to do with motorcycles). Either that, or the lesson has been learned that after almost five years of marriage, it is best to let me have the wishes. Love you!

Or, I guess possibly, he thought the whole thing was a bunch of silliness, so he just let me have my way. But anyway you slice it, I am victorious.

Hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving Holiday.

Beyond Measure

There of course is a lot of wants and wishes in life. Such as, I wish all my family members were able to share the same good health I enjoy. Or, I wish the Ethiopian courts moved faster. Then there is the normal ‘everyone wants’ – like world peace, more money, a life-time supply of diet mountain dew always at your disposal – But even with all these wants and wishes, I am feeling very grateful and fortunate this season. So, for Thanksgiving, I’d like to share just a few of the things I am most grateful in my life:

- My wonderful husband who puts up with my crazy, tries very hard to see where I am coming from, and can always make me laugh.
- For parents who loved and supported me as a kid, and although one may be a little kooky at times, they still love and support me as an adult.
- For a sister who understands me, will listen to me, loves unconditionally, and is so much fun to be around. Besides the fact that she is so excited about our child, I am afraid she may try to move into the nursery when the little guy comes home. You’ll be the best Auntie!
- For a brother who although is obviously much smarter than I, he never makes me feel stupid when we try and talk politics, current events, or religion.
- For Skippy reduced fat creamy peanut butter. Could eat it every day.
- My extended family, including Brad’s, who make me smile whenever I see them – I cherish you all.
- My unbelievable group of friends. The old ones, who life sometimes gets in the way of and it can be months before we talk – but when we do we can pick up like it was just yesterday; and the new ones, who I look forward to one day becoming old friends. That is, so it can be months before we talk :) Kidding!
- Access to clean water, medicine when I need it, food when I am hungry, a roof over my head, and a stable job. All lumped together.
- For the freedom to believe what I want to believe, and live the way I want to live.
- My cat, Fischer, who is like a little warm fuzzy alarm clock. Okay, I could do without the morning meowing. But, for everything else about him, I am grateful.
- That our friends M. & J. just received a referral for an adorable little 3 yr old boy – he has the most soulful eyes! I love families being formed – congrats again!
- For the ability to go through with the adoption process. It may sound hokey- but I am a changed person.
- For Granny’s cheese ball recipe. May a holiday never pass without a cheese ball to celebrate. Yum!

For all this and so much more, I am thankful.

Peace,
beth.

Math? Not so much, thanks...

Okay, for some reason today I thought I would torture myself, try to be brain-y, and see if I could mathematically figure out where on the agency’s official ‘waiting for referral’ list we are sitting. Of course, there is no real way to know, and quite frankly it doesn’t really matter, because I know we are dangling down at the bottom. But, my self-diagnosed OCD has reared its ugly head, and I have an urge to nit-pick and overanalyze every tiny detail. Especially with the current gossip floating around that the program is slowing down, and wait times may be extended. Which, by the way, I have no issue with except for my impatience. If the program is slowing because there are less children available for adoption – fantastic! I don’t think anyone can deny that. If the program is slowing because there is just more interest, and more prospective parents waiting – this can be great news, too, yet also maybe not… But, I will spare you my ethics rant.

So, here are the facts:

- The agency will of course not publish where on the list you sit. They do, however, periodically send out updates with how many people are on the list. That magic number: 184. (One hundred eight four families waiting to be formed – that is exciting stuff!)

- There is an ‘unofficial’ list on the forum, where people volunteer their information so those who are obsessive can try and feel some sort of control over the situation. Thank goodness there are people like me out there who form things like this. Where you are on the list all depends on the date you were accepted to the program. Our date is 10/03. Otherwise known as six weeks and two days ago. Or forty-four days. Or one thousand eight hours ago, give or take. Anyways, we are number 74 out of 82 on that list.

Okay, so here is my laughable attempts at math. Only 82 of the real 184 are reporting their info on the ‘unofficial’ list. Which is approximately 45%. Damn! If it was only an even 50%, I could just double my number and take a good guess I am at about 148. Instead, I soldier on.
I think, so I am in the bottom 10% of the ‘unofficial’ list, so maybe I could just figure out what the bottom 10% of the ‘official’ list is? That would put us at about spot #166. 166 out of 184? That number really sucks, so I think maybe I figured it out wrong? Ahh… the power of denial.
Then I decide to divide 184 (# on real list) by 82 (# on obsessive people list) = about 2.24. So, for every one person on fake list, there are about 2.24 people on real list. I’m at spot 74 x 2.24 people = spot #166 again.

So, here is where I need to get a grip on the situation. We are probably only in the 160s on list that has 184 people on it. I would consider that the very bottom. So, why am I already trying to over-analyze? Geez.

6 weeks, 2 days down. Only… like 20 more weeks to go until referral? Yeah, I think I need to try to put a kibosh on the OCD for a while… or I am likely to drive my husband insane.

I Thought I was a Patient Person...

6 weeks and 1 day of 'waiting'. I've heard estimates of wait times for referral all over the board, anywhere from 5-8 months. Hoping for 5, starting to tell myself to expect 8. Or possibly more? Things sure look slow in the program...

Oh, than we have to wait to travel.

I thought I was a patient person.

Getting Things Accomplished

A few of our major 'to-dos' that had been looming over my head have been successfully checked off our list.

Vaccinations - I have now regained the use of my right arm, and we have successfully been immunized against seemingly every disease known to modern man. Here is a pic chronicling my pain, done up all artsy n' stuff a) because I have a photo program I like and I rarely get to use -and- b) making my arm in black and white makes it look 'not quite so' fat:


Daycare – We have found a fantastic woman to watch our youngin’ while we are busy bringing home the bacon; and is patient enough to not be worried that we don’t really know when we will be needing her services. Twenty-seven years doing daycare, that probably makes you an incredibly patient person.

Baby’s Room – I had been trying to pin Brad down to a time we could start painting the room, since the paint and rollers had been sitting there for a few weeks. 10pm Friday night, he finally gets the urge to ‘start’ the painting, thinking we would just do around the molding and ceiling, and leave the rest for another day. But, you know, once you start painting, you don’t want to clean up to just have to come back to it another day! 2am we finished, and it is adorable. Yesterday we put up my colorful dots, and added a few safari animals to make it just that much cuter.
My rule of thumb: You can’t be too cutesy when dealing with a baby’s room.

For your viewing pleasure:






Peace!

Hurtin' for Certain PLUS Other News

Yesterday brought us to our Travel Clinic appointment, it was time to bear down and get our shots. Our Nurse Practitioner was a hoot – he reminded me of ‘Ross the Intern’ on Jay Leno’s show in both looks and mannerisms; although he was the ‘chubby’ Ross, pre-whatever-that-celebrity-weight-loss-show he was on. The meeting was relaxed and chipper, that is, until it was time to actually go get the shots. Brad hates needles. I don’t like them, but I can think of a heck of a lot of other worse things that happen at the doctor’s office – examples being strep throat tests or anything involving those dang stirrups. (Side note: Totally unrelated, but I think this is a funny story. I have a problem with people touching my ankles - have no idea where this fear came from, but I sort of freak out. So, years ago, I’m at the doctor’s office for a physical and my feet are in those horrid stirrups. The doc grabs my ankle to move my foot out more, and I immediately pop up from my lying position and slap him. Of course, your rear is hanging half way off the table in that crazy position they lie you in, and in my haste to sit up I almost fell of the front of the table into his lap, all whilst giving him a startled crack to the face. I apologized profusely, but needless to say I never went back to that doctor again. I wonder if he ever tells people that story? Prefaces it with something like "One day there was this crazy bitch in my office…")

Anyway, back to the vaccines, we both survived. Brad with five, me with six. He is a little sore when we throws his hands above his head; I cannot lift my right arm and feel like I’ve been hit by a Mac truck. Must have been the one extra shot I got? Damn you tetanus! Or, he has super-immunity. Either is a possibility.

In other news, because I forgot to write about this before (I know, I haven’t written in awhile… I apologize! Sometimes, they actually make me work at work, and apparently our computer at home is designated for motorcycle forum reading only). Our Social Worker sent her part of the paperwork to CIS, but we had a chance to read it before and make any corrections we saw fit. Not too many corrections, but we were surprised to find out we were ‘approved’ for only a boy, per her paperwork. We have been told from the start our chances of a little boy were huge, but we had to open to either gender. No biggie. But, this is immigration we are talking about! I thought, if you tell them we are only approved to bring a male into the U.S., we have no more choice, and I can start more detailed planning, shopping, and dreaming! But, when I clarified this with her, she said, yes, we are still most likely to be paired with a boy, but if by some chance we are paired with a girl she will send in an addendum to CIS. So, we are still not totally sure… but we inched a little closer to mostly sure? It looks like it will be all snips and snails and puppy dog tails at our house. Yeah for little boys!