My daughter is a princess

Aster is the most beautiful girl in the world. A very wise woman said so and she knows stuff. At this point it's no longer subjective.

Aster is a 6 year old girl. She doesn't know how good and beautiful she is. In every way possible. It's heartbreaking.

Whenever someone referred to Aster as "beautiful" or a "princess" she would vehemently deny it. Then it got worse. She'd get angry and watery eyes.

Yes. We tried to refrain from talking about "beautiful" or "princess" crap.

Aster told me that I was a princess because I have "big hair"
and she told me that she was not.

Then she cried for an hour.

I made a hair appointment for the next day, cut off about a foot of hair (I have it in a bag to send away for donation- win!win!) and got an asymmetrical purple bob.

It's short hair for both of us. "Big" hair is definitely overrated.

I feel like I'm placing mini-sized useless bandaids on gaping wounds, just hoping for one to stick.

Home and Happy

Less than 2

days until we leave. Until we leave to bring our girl home. Forever. Our beautiful, sweet girl. Yes. It's time. She's waited too long. I'm one happy mama.

Submitted!

Today our case was submitted to the US Embassy. I am so excited that I am literally shaking.
What's next?
They will tell us within about 72 hours (Thursdayish?!) whether we are clear to travel or if they need more documentation/clarification. We don't think about the latter option. Nope. Won't do it. Don't like it. Can't make me.

Ethiopia next week? Maybe. Might. Ahhhh...

I have so much to say, but I'm currently too busy spinning and fidgeting (basically being myself) to express meaningful communication.

Another Wednesday

Only 4 out of the 5 pages of the document were faxed. We were not submitted again. Another Wednesday.

Tommy and I went to the store and bought lots of candy. Then ate all of it. Yes, we are at that point.

My girl has to spend another week without her family. All of her adorable friends are no longer there.
There are no words for how we are feeling.

Our little girl needs to come home.

Sometimes I think my little man is just psychic. When I picked him up, he gave me the biggest hug and told me "I missed you so much. I really love you mommy! Oh, and I was very nice to my teachers today!" Then he followed me to my office and cleaned up my toys. He is so good at taking care of me and my heart.

Trust me, other days he's not this generous. Other days, well...we don't want to talk about those days today.

Picking myself up

Yesterday was tough. Our paperwork wasn't submitted to Embassy. Again.
What does this mean?
We will have to wait another week to see if we will be submitted. Another Wednesday. Wednesdays are now very hard days. I get the "not the news you are hoping for" phone call, fall down (which has the added struggle of being done without Judah noticing), followed by the infinitely more difficult challenge (darn gravity) of picking myself up again.
A few days after we are eventually submitted, the US Embassy will let us know if we are clear to make an appointment or if they require more paperwork. Well, that's if people are working (you've heard about the government shutdown possibility, right?).
You know what makes life a lot better when you are super sad because you want your child home?
Friends. Friends that come over and make you fish tacos (from fish they caught) AND two types of salsa and guacamole too. Or the ones that let you walk in a daze at the aquarium all day after they buy you a peach margarita (and even use their guest pass on your sorry butt).
You know what else makes me feel better?
Judah. He is hysterically funny all the time.
Today:
Judah, don't fall asleep right now, ok babe? (We were 1 minute away from our destination).
He opened his eyes and in a very level and calm voice he explained:
"Me closing my eyes should have answered your question. Kids need to rest sometimes. You should know that. I was closing my eyes so you should know I need to rest."

Funny baby.

Things that make me feel like a big grouch.

Honestly. People do not know what to say to people who are adopting.

Quiz
When at work is it OK to yell down the hall at an adoptive mother, "Is she here yet?" Then, when she shakes her head no, add the ever helpful and pleasant "She's not coming home, is she?"

No. It's not ok.

Please, at least be in close proximity before asking if MY DAUGHTER is NEVER coming home. Ok. I take it back. Just don't say it.

Is it ok to try to convince me that people "should get to go to Ethiopia and choose their child?"

No. Also, when I look at you like that, don't try harder to convince me. I'm trying to take deep breaths and find my peace-filled inner core.

I'm going to say it. If you haven't adopted, you probably don't know a whole lot about it.
You don't know if "a domestic adoption would have been quicker" (and you certainly don't know if I care. Oh, I very much don't).
We chose to adopt an older child, so saying "well I hope she's 6, that would be A LOT better than 9", isn't true OR helpful.

If you've never adopted and never plan on adopting, I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU WOULD HAVE DONE (where you "would have" adopted from, what gender child, what age child, any of it). I don't even understand that. "I know I would have..." HUH? But you didn't and you're not going to. So you wouldn't have. You didn't (my head spinning is producing the redundancy).
I'm not concentrating on what you're saying now, my eyes are squinty because I'm thinking about how much your stupidity actually hurts my brain.

Also, I know I'm a picky girl, but I like it when you see a picture of my child for the first time that you say something nice (and it shouldn't be difficult. Have you seen my prettier-than-any-super-model child?).
NOT "How old is she?", "Why is her head shaved?" OR anything about how "lucky she is."
Seriously people! LUCKY? Let me go throw up. A lot.

She is my baby. My baby.

It IS as big of a deal to adopt a child as to have one biologically.
It IS as big of a deal to adopt a child as it is to adopt a baby.

She is my baby. My baby.

It is a celebration for our family. It is a celebration of a life being brought into our family. It is huge. For us.

I feel like handing out an instructional pamphlet for people when they ask to see a picture of my girl.

PLEASE SAY: "CONGRATS! SHE'S BEAUTIFUL!"
Now stop talking. Nope. Don't say that. Or that. Or ever that. Still not a good idea.
Now smile and walk away. Quick.

I've been working on this "pregnancy" for a very long time, I've run out of patience.

Thank you.

Attachment

Attachment is a strange thing, isn't it? It's always changing. Sometimes we are overflowing with love and connectedness, other times we need to work at it. Ebbing, flowing.

I've made HUGE mistakes with Judah. Last summer, traveling without his dad for three weeks.
Judah was with ME. It would be ok? Right?
Nope. Not right at all.
About two days later, Judah started punching walls, furniture, everything and not talking to me. All he could say was
"I'm angry."
I sat Judah down, turned his face toward me, asked why.
Judah, you have to tell me why you are angry.
He looked with such intensity, like he was challenging me. Tears flew out of his eyes and down his face.
"I'm angry because I miss my daddy."
I should have been on the next flight home, right? Right. Obviously.
I wasn't.
I thought, he's experiencing so much, he's with lots of family. Yes, he's upset...but he will be ok.
I wish I was a bright girl.
After we came home, for THREE months, Judah would be a tear-and-fear-filled mess every single time Tommy left the room.
People have implied that Judah was adopted at such a young age, he doesn't remember, therefore there are no long term effects. I disagree. Very. Much. Disagree.
Hopefully, in a few short weeks, it will be time to bring Aster home. We are counting the moments. Aster will be VERY disappointed if we both don't go. I'm terrified that regardless of how much we front-load Judah, it will be another event he'll need to somehow recover from.
I can't wait until we are all together.

Aster and Judah

My babies, Aster and Judah.

It's been over 12 weeks since we left Aster. Leaving her was the hardest thing I've ever done. It brings me comfort and lots of self-indulgent happiness to talk about my babies, so I apologize for all of the bragging. I can't help myself.

In many ways, Judah and Aster are completely different.

Judah speaks every unedited thought that flows through his brain. Oh my, do I ever love those thoughts! The other day, he was angry with Tommy (Tommy dared suggest he relax in bed for a little bit) and told me, "right now I don't even have thoughts!"
It was a threat. He knows how much I love to hear about what goes on in that beautiful and silly brain.

Aster is silent power.

Before we're even out of bed in the morning, Judah has a few quotable quotes.
Last Saturday his first words were, "Mama, I'm just thinking about moons and summers and trucks."
I like those thoughts. You must be happy.
"Yes. I'm happy. I'm also thinking I really, really hope that Aster likes her room."
Those are nice morning thoughts, babe.

Tommy and I were in the kitchen (so glad I had a witness). Judah walked up to me and instructed, "Pick me up." He proceeded to grab my chin gently, look straight into my eyes and dramatically declare, "Mama, I really understand you. That is all. Put me down."
I bit my lip to keep from laughing (he's very perceptive and would have been crushed if I laughed at him) and stammered a "thank you."
It felt good to finally be understood. Completely.

He's also creative.
"What are you drinking?"
Coke. You tried it before, but you don't like it.
"Oh, yeah." While smiling, he explained, "Coke is too sassy for me."
I'm thinking my 3-year-old's ideas should be used for Coke's next advertising campaign. Coke IS sassy.

Everything about Judah is unreserved and big and uninhibited. He laughs loudly, talks incessantly and fumes wildly.
Everything about Aster is thoughtful and calculated. Crumbs are carefully wiped, everyone in the room is counted, actions are quiet and gentle.

But both of them, have the best humor. They both laugh easily.

Now I have to share more about my girl. The girl who I love to talk about, even though I usually cry while doing it.

Last winter, I learned a bit more about how few words you need to be funny.
I'll never forget Aster trying to copy Tommy's rubber-lipped faces with very little success. But, she has her own ways of being funny.
Aster felt comfortable enough with Tommy to tease him. Something she does well.
While slowly and deliberately pointing to each family member,
"Mama."
"Judah."
While pointing to herself, "Aster."
Then she'd point to Tommy and shrug, making the I-have-no-idea-who-you-are-face (a face she makes very well).
Then she'd crack up laughing. I loved the serious delivery and the heartfelt-mouth-covered laughter that followed. I love that the purpose of the joke was to tease, so that her dad would tickle and hug her. I love even more how clearly the teasing was one of her many ways of telling him how much she already adored him. I love my girl.

My funny, beautiful babies. I'm so very lucky.

Official Paperwork!

Today we received Aster's birth certificate and Adoption Decree. WITH OUR NAMES ON IT. HER PARENTS. US. Yes, I know. It's a very, very big deal.

I need to go spend more time staring at her name, my name and her daddy's name on these very important documents.