We both knew it had to end, but we never anticipated how quickly. Please don't consider yourself a fling; I'm sure someone else is celebrating time spent with you tonight.
We had to move on.
Love,
The New 16
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Sweet 16
Dear 17,
We both knew it had to end, but we never anticipated how quickly. Please don't consider yourself a fling; I'm sure someone else is celebrating time spent with you tonight.
We had to move on.
Love,
The New 16
We both knew it had to end, but we never anticipated how quickly. Please don't consider yourself a fling; I'm sure someone else is celebrating time spent with you tonight.
We had to move on.
Love,
The New 16
Monday, May 10, 2010
Goodbye 18!
We are now:
(or number 43)
We now only respond to 17.
Yes, 17.
A much better number than 18.
18, I won't miss you one little bit.
We're movin' on up the list! WHOOOOHOOO!
(or number 43)
We now only respond to 17.
Yes, 17.
A much better number than 18.
18, I won't miss you one little bit.
We're movin' on up the list! WHOOOOHOOO!
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Attachment
Tommy and I have different views on how the last two years of "attachment" have gone. Since he doesn't blog, I'll share mine.
Judah was only 6 months old when he came home. A young, huge, beautiful baby. He was always good with eye contact. He connected. He laughed. With EVERYone. Very fun for people. To take.
After he was home for about two weeks, we took him to a doctor, an international adoption specialist. He "tested" his attachment (e.g. let Judah choose to either go with a stranger or me). Judah "failed" the tests. Before the doctor could say anything, I looked him straight in the eye and said, "It's been TWO weeks. He needs time." I didn't want him to tell me what he thought it meant. Not out loud. I didn't want to hear it. I knew. It hurt. MY attachment to Judah was cement. In the waiting room, he flirted and laughed with every adult he saw. And every child.
Everyone in our lives constantly commented:
He's doing so well.
I've never seen such a happy baby in my entire life.
He has the world's best laugh.
He's so smart.
He's so outgoing.
He has so much personality.
I agreed. Wholeheartedly. I still do.
But, I kept my secret. It was no secret that I had the world's friendliest baby. Who I loved deeply...and who loved me as much as the guy in the supermarket he met three minutes ago. Hopefully.
People would comment. About how well he was doing. How happy he was. He was. He is. He still laughs more than anyone I've ever met. Big huge belly laughs. He also laughs so hard that he's almost silent. I like those laughs. A lot.
When did the change happen? When did I KNOW that his love was real and deep and for ME?
I don't know. It was so slow, I could never give you a date. I can tell you about our relationship now. I can tell you that he loves me and has a billion ways to express it. When I tell him something sweet, he opens his mouth a little bit and pants. He comes to me and asks to cuddle a billion times a day. He looks deeply in my eyes forever. He asks to hold my hand while I drive the car. He loves to sit on my lap while he drinks and gently strokes my arm. He squeezes my leg so hard that he cringes.
He takes really good care of me. During meals, he makes sure I have food. While I'm sitting on the couch, he searches the house until he finds me a blanket. Then he tucks me in sweetly and asks "Mama, you cozy?" Before we go out, he looks me up and down to make sure I have shoes and a jacket. On BBQ nights, he makes sure I have a beer.
Judah points out every truck, every tire, every "neat car", every trailer. He cares that I see them.
He cheers when he sees me. Every time.
He tells me he loves me. Every day.
Judah's attachment didn't happen instantly. We had to celebrate each small step.
It's a love I would have waited a lifetime for.
Judah was only 6 months old when he came home. A young, huge, beautiful baby. He was always good with eye contact. He connected. He laughed. With EVERYone. Very fun for people. To take.
After he was home for about two weeks, we took him to a doctor, an international adoption specialist. He "tested" his attachment (e.g. let Judah choose to either go with a stranger or me). Judah "failed" the tests. Before the doctor could say anything, I looked him straight in the eye and said, "It's been TWO weeks. He needs time." I didn't want him to tell me what he thought it meant. Not out loud. I didn't want to hear it. I knew. It hurt. MY attachment to Judah was cement. In the waiting room, he flirted and laughed with every adult he saw. And every child.
Everyone in our lives constantly commented:
He's doing so well.
I've never seen such a happy baby in my entire life.
He has the world's best laugh.
He's so smart.
He's so outgoing.
He has so much personality.
I agreed. Wholeheartedly. I still do.
But, I kept my secret. It was no secret that I had the world's friendliest baby. Who I loved deeply...and who loved me as much as the guy in the supermarket he met three minutes ago. Hopefully.
People would comment. About how well he was doing. How happy he was. He was. He is. He still laughs more than anyone I've ever met. Big huge belly laughs. He also laughs so hard that he's almost silent. I like those laughs. A lot.
When did the change happen? When did I KNOW that his love was real and deep and for ME?
I don't know. It was so slow, I could never give you a date. I can tell you about our relationship now. I can tell you that he loves me and has a billion ways to express it. When I tell him something sweet, he opens his mouth a little bit and pants. He comes to me and asks to cuddle a billion times a day. He looks deeply in my eyes forever. He asks to hold my hand while I drive the car. He loves to sit on my lap while he drinks and gently strokes my arm. He squeezes my leg so hard that he cringes.
He takes really good care of me. During meals, he makes sure I have food. While I'm sitting on the couch, he searches the house until he finds me a blanket. Then he tucks me in sweetly and asks "Mama, you cozy?" Before we go out, he looks me up and down to make sure I have shoes and a jacket. On BBQ nights, he makes sure I have a beer.
Judah points out every truck, every tire, every "neat car", every trailer. He cares that I see them.
He cheers when he sees me. Every time.
He tells me he loves me. Every day.
Judah's attachment didn't happen instantly. We had to celebrate each small step.
It's a love I would have waited a lifetime for.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Paper Pregnant
We are officially waiting!
#18 (or #44) depending on the list (toddler or infant). For some reason, I prefer #18, so that's where I'm starting the countdown :)
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Changes
I wrote this when I first found out that two trips to Ethiopia will be required to complete our next adoption (one for court, one for the embassy appointment).
First, I'd like to be clear: If the changes help to protect ONE child, I am all for them. ALL for them. 100%. No hesitation.
I hope they do.
Figuring out how we're/she's/I'm going to handle becoming a family and then leaving her for a few months, uuuughh...ok, can't think about that.
Oh, and the extra travel $. I'm not sure where that's going to come from.
Leaving Judah twice. Gulp. Can't think about that either.
I just hope it helps.
I hope.
I need some time to process.
I know I can turn this into a positive*. I know it. I know it.
But, did I mention leaving her?
Did I mention leaving Judah twice?
And that's only if everything goes perfectly (we pass court the first time, etc.).
Ok, I can't think about it.
Can't.
Won't.
I've now had time to process. My decision is very clear: I'm not going to think about it. Not until I need to. The adoption process is stressful. It is. Even the moments when I'm not aware of the stress...oh, it's there.
I was feeling so good during this journey. I was. Tommy was. Judah was. The paperwork was painless. We felt like we knew (mostly) what to expect, but the stress was still there.
Stress makes medium hurdles into big ones. Should I even talk about the real fear? The real fear is that more changes will come. Big ones. Biggest one. Ok, can't think about that. It's not helpful anyway.
In the meantime, can I just tell you about all of the sweet people in our lives who genuinely care/cared that I feel/felt all crumbly? Truth: most people who haven't been through the adoption process don't "get" it. I'm lucky to have you.
I'm also lucky to have people in my life who just "get" me.
I've been told a few times this past year that I'm "strong."
HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA
Yes, it surprised me too. Each time.
It felt good. Kind of like when Judah points to a picture of the Victoria Secret's model and says, "Mommy!"
It felt good even though I know it's not based in reality.
Last week I got a sinus headache/cold which turned into a super painful eye infection.
That's how I deal with medium news.
I'm just lucky I know you.
*Positives:
1. We will meet her a few months sooner (court vs. waiting until the Embassy appointment- which will be our second trip).
2. The Family and Medical Leave Act (FMLA) and the California Family Rights Act (CFRA) allows eligible employees to take up to a total of twelve (12) weeks. Traveling for court counts.
3. Ethiopia is making changes to help protect her beautiful children.
First, I'd like to be clear: If the changes help to protect ONE child, I am all for them. ALL for them. 100%. No hesitation.
I hope they do.
Figuring out how we're/she's/I'm going to handle becoming a family and then leaving her for a few months, uuuughh...ok, can't think about that.
Oh, and the extra travel $. I'm not sure where that's going to come from.
Leaving Judah twice. Gulp. Can't think about that either.
I just hope it helps.
I hope.
I need some time to process.
I know I can turn this into a positive*. I know it. I know it.
But, did I mention leaving her?
Did I mention leaving Judah twice?
And that's only if everything goes perfectly (we pass court the first time, etc.).
Ok, I can't think about it.
Can't.
Won't.
I've now had time to process. My decision is very clear: I'm not going to think about it. Not until I need to. The adoption process is stressful. It is. Even the moments when I'm not aware of the stress...oh, it's there.
I was feeling so good during this journey. I was. Tommy was. Judah was. The paperwork was painless. We felt like we knew (mostly) what to expect, but the stress was still there.
Stress makes medium hurdles into big ones. Should I even talk about the real fear? The real fear is that more changes will come. Big ones. Biggest one. Ok, can't think about that. It's not helpful anyway.
In the meantime, can I just tell you about all of the sweet people in our lives who genuinely care/cared that I feel/felt all crumbly? Truth: most people who haven't been through the adoption process don't "get" it. I'm lucky to have you.
I'm also lucky to have people in my life who just "get" me.
I've been told a few times this past year that I'm "strong."
HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA
Yes, it surprised me too. Each time.
It felt good. Kind of like when Judah points to a picture of the Victoria Secret's model and says, "Mommy!"
It felt good even though I know it's not based in reality.
Last week I got a sinus headache/cold which turned into a super painful eye infection.
That's how I deal with medium news.
I'm just lucky I know you.
*Positives:
1. We will meet her a few months sooner (court vs. waiting until the Embassy appointment- which will be our second trip).
2. The Family and Medical Leave Act (FMLA) and the California Family Rights Act (CFRA) allows eligible employees to take up to a total of twelve (12) weeks. Traveling for court counts.
3. Ethiopia is making changes to help protect her beautiful children.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
The purple suit
This past Monday was our LAST homestudy visit. Our wonderful social worker had met with us before. This time she met Judah.
I was expecting the obvious. He would run full speed into something and get a black eye. He would spend the meeting crying, screaming or attacking. Perhaps he would feel in a more reserved mood and say something like, "I want Taco Bell and cake." Especially since the morning began in a less than ideal way.
It was busy. I had all moments accounted for. The doctor's office opened at 8:30. At 8:30 I was to drop off my medical letter. At 10:30 the notary would arrive. The social worker was coming over and interviewing me from 9:00-10:00 (Tommy from 10:00-11:00). See how perfectly I plan stuff? Foolproof, right?
Judah and I arrived at the doctor's office (right after we stopped by the grocery store to buy fruit- yes, I decided at 8:00 that my home didn't appear to have an adequate supply of visual fruit- you are so lucky you don't live in my brain) at 8:25.
8:40...nothing.
8:50...nothing, but I'm sweating. Not good for interviews.
8:52...the purple suit arrived.
Standing tall and wearing her purple power suit, she held a walkie talkie and proudly wore her badge.
She was drunk with power (which I may or may not have muttered, because Judah repeated "drunk with power" all the way home).
She told us that we would have to check in on the second floor. I told her I just needed to drop off something for the doctor. She took my letter and told me that I would have to turn it in on the second floor for review (which may take awhile), sign a medical records release, etc.
I explained why I needed it and that I needed it to be notarized at 10:30. I tried to be charming.
Very unsuccessfully.
She told me that they "don't do that" and before I could respond ordered someone to "take her downstairs."
I just walked away.
It was 8:55. I was late and sweaty.
We had our interview. Judah was successfully more than charming. He didn't ask for Taco Bell. He didn't say anything about the purple power suit lady being "drunk with power."
He was his fabulous self.
After the meeting, I knew we had mere moments to get the letter to the doctor.
Judah and I have practiced being "sneaky" many, many times. We use this skill to sneak up on Daddy for tickle attacks. Judah is good at it.
When we arrived, I explained that we had to be sneaky. We had to sneak by the purple suit.
Judah tip-toed and whispered. We snuck right by her. The purple suit didn't even know the discreet operation going on right behind her back. We handed off the letter and ran. The letter was notarized. We picked it up after work. The purple suit still doesn't know that she was played by a frazzled, sweaty, desperate mama and a trained-to-be-sneaky two-year-old.
If you need a partner to do top-secret, rule-breaking jobs, Judah's your dude.
I was expecting the obvious. He would run full speed into something and get a black eye. He would spend the meeting crying, screaming or attacking. Perhaps he would feel in a more reserved mood and say something like, "I want Taco Bell and cake." Especially since the morning began in a less than ideal way.
It was busy. I had all moments accounted for. The doctor's office opened at 8:30. At 8:30 I was to drop off my medical letter. At 10:30 the notary would arrive. The social worker was coming over and interviewing me from 9:00-10:00 (Tommy from 10:00-11:00). See how perfectly I plan stuff? Foolproof, right?
Judah and I arrived at the doctor's office (right after we stopped by the grocery store to buy fruit- yes, I decided at 8:00 that my home didn't appear to have an adequate supply of visual fruit- you are so lucky you don't live in my brain) at 8:25.
8:40...nothing.
8:50...nothing, but I'm sweating. Not good for interviews.
8:52...the purple suit arrived.
Standing tall and wearing her purple power suit, she held a walkie talkie and proudly wore her badge.
She was drunk with power (which I may or may not have muttered, because Judah repeated "drunk with power" all the way home).
She told us that we would have to check in on the second floor. I told her I just needed to drop off something for the doctor. She took my letter and told me that I would have to turn it in on the second floor for review (which may take awhile), sign a medical records release, etc.
I explained why I needed it and that I needed it to be notarized at 10:30. I tried to be charming.
Very unsuccessfully.
She told me that they "don't do that" and before I could respond ordered someone to "take her downstairs."
I just walked away.
It was 8:55. I was late and sweaty.
We had our interview. Judah was successfully more than charming. He didn't ask for Taco Bell. He didn't say anything about the purple power suit lady being "drunk with power."
He was his fabulous self.
After the meeting, I knew we had mere moments to get the letter to the doctor.
Judah and I have practiced being "sneaky" many, many times. We use this skill to sneak up on Daddy for tickle attacks. Judah is good at it.
When we arrived, I explained that we had to be sneaky. We had to sneak by the purple suit.
Judah tip-toed and whispered. We snuck right by her. The purple suit didn't even know the discreet operation going on right behind her back. We handed off the letter and ran. The letter was notarized. We picked it up after work. The purple suit still doesn't know that she was played by a frazzled, sweaty, desperate mama and a trained-to-be-sneaky two-year-old.
If you need a partner to do top-secret, rule-breaking jobs, Judah's your dude.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Mama Fail
I had high hopes for today. I had big plans. I spent my lunch finding, what I thought, was really cool material for a new pair of Judah pants. For dinner I had huge doro wat making plans.
Ok, so before I call it a fail, I'll skip to the end. I'm holding a pair of pretty cute pants that I just finished and we have lots of yummy leftover doro wat. It wasn't a total loss.
I came home and decided to cook. I've heard it's a big deal not to burn doro wat, so I felt compelled to stir. To stir a lot. Judah felt compelled to be sad that I was being a bad mama and just ignoring him. He spent half the process looking at me with those big sad watery eyes. During the second half of the process, he was just mad. I felt horrible during the entire process and Judah was obviously unimpressed with me. As a working mama I SHOULD be more attentive when I'm with him, right? I agree. So does Judah. As if to rub it in, I made the dish too spicy for him. I suck. Yes, I do.
After dinner, I showed him the super cute material that I was so thrilled about. Judah told me,
"I don't like it. Take it back to the store. Put it in the bag. Take it in the car. Throw it away." Yes, he suggested ALL of those options.
I explained, "But Judah I'm going to make you super awesome pants with the material."
He explained, "It's not my style. I don't like it. Take it back to the store. Put it in the bag. Take it in the car. Throw it away."
Judah would have been much happier if I would have just ordered pizza and played cars with him.
Ever try to do everything right and just end up doing everything wrong? It was one of those days.
One day I'm going to figure out how to do this mama business right..one day...
Ok, so before I call it a fail, I'll skip to the end. I'm holding a pair of pretty cute pants that I just finished and we have lots of yummy leftover doro wat. It wasn't a total loss.
I came home and decided to cook. I've heard it's a big deal not to burn doro wat, so I felt compelled to stir. To stir a lot. Judah felt compelled to be sad that I was being a bad mama and just ignoring him. He spent half the process looking at me with those big sad watery eyes. During the second half of the process, he was just mad. I felt horrible during the entire process and Judah was obviously unimpressed with me. As a working mama I SHOULD be more attentive when I'm with him, right? I agree. So does Judah. As if to rub it in, I made the dish too spicy for him. I suck. Yes, I do.
After dinner, I showed him the super cute material that I was so thrilled about. Judah told me,
"I don't like it. Take it back to the store. Put it in the bag. Take it in the car. Throw it away." Yes, he suggested ALL of those options.
I explained, "But Judah I'm going to make you super awesome pants with the material."
He explained, "It's not my style. I don't like it. Take it back to the store. Put it in the bag. Take it in the car. Throw it away."
Judah would have been much happier if I would have just ordered pizza and played cars with him.
Ever try to do everything right and just end up doing everything wrong? It was one of those days.
One day I'm going to figure out how to do this mama business right..one day...
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Lovefest
This weekend was very busy. On Saturday morning we went to a birthday party at the batting cages. It's very important that I remember how much I love the batting cages. I've wasted a lot of time during the last 20 years not practicing my swing.
From there we went to Little Ethiopia for our monthly meet up. I'm talking about the monthly meet up we've managed to miss every single month. It was our first. I'm hooked. Those folks just make me happy. They make Tommy happy. They make Judah VERY happy.
Judah decided that Julie was his very best friend. Unfortunately, I believe he MIGHT be a tad bossy with his best friends.
I think Judah's favorite thing in the world is to be tickled by sparkly-eyed Meazi. Oh, and when Ms. Tunsitu changed positions in the ring-around-a-rosie circle JUST to hold hands with Judah...be still my heart. We can't stop true love people!
Not to mention Mimi. She has so much pure coolness that I find myself just following her around.
Beautiful babies. Too many to list. Hooked.
After our lunch, we drove down to the beach to visit friends. During the drive Tommy asked, "could you type a FB message for me?"
I typed it.
He directed, "add an exclamation point after 'adorable'."
I made the change and sent "Your children are adorable! It was great to see you and meet your husband."
You get why this made my heart dance, right?
We spent the night at our friends house (Judah LOVES sleep overs). This morning our friend was making a huge breakfast extravaganza (too nice). I overhear Tommy tell his friend, "Oh, I think your baby just pooped. I'll change her." He then did so- with NO hesitation.
My heart danced again.
It's just those little/huge things.
From there we went to Little Ethiopia for our monthly meet up. I'm talking about the monthly meet up we've managed to miss every single month. It was our first. I'm hooked. Those folks just make me happy. They make Tommy happy. They make Judah VERY happy.
Judah decided that Julie was his very best friend. Unfortunately, I believe he MIGHT be a tad bossy with his best friends.
I think Judah's favorite thing in the world is to be tickled by sparkly-eyed Meazi. Oh, and when Ms. Tunsitu changed positions in the ring-around-a-rosie circle JUST to hold hands with Judah...be still my heart. We can't stop true love people!
Not to mention Mimi. She has so much pure coolness that I find myself just following her around.
Beautiful babies. Too many to list. Hooked.
After our lunch, we drove down to the beach to visit friends. During the drive Tommy asked, "could you type a FB message for me?"
I typed it.
He directed, "add an exclamation point after 'adorable'."
I made the change and sent "Your children are adorable! It was great to see you and meet your husband."
You get why this made my heart dance, right?
We spent the night at our friends house (Judah LOVES sleep overs). This morning our friend was making a huge breakfast extravaganza (too nice). I overhear Tommy tell his friend, "Oh, I think your baby just pooped. I'll change her." He then did so- with NO hesitation.
My heart danced again.
It's just those little/huge things.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Adventure to Violet
I just started a new blog to document our adoption adventure.
Here it is!
If you'd like to join our adventure, just let me know and I'll give you the password.
Here it is!
If you'd like to join our adventure, just let me know and I'll give you the password.
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