Moving up the list?

What a difference a week can make. Now the sun is out again, snow is gone, and it's back to the 60s like that huge blizzard never even happened. I'm seriously an old lady blogging about the weather. But I am obsessed with it. We moved here for our 300 days of sunshine/year and I am COUNTING!

Yesterday I had a little crisis of the - I really don't want to wait anymore - variety.
Jeremy was at a wood turner's association meeting in the evening. I had no one to entertain me. So I started fishing around online for things to make me feel better.

I think being a waiting adoptive parent makes you a lot like a drug addict. You need little hits - you need need them - to keep you going forward. To prevent you from stalling and crying and stamping your feet.

First I fished around on waiting child photo listings (this actually started over the weekend and was the thing that precipitated the impatience.) Fishing on photo listings is not a good idea. Never. I won't go into details but those of you who have given into that temptation know what I mean. Stay. the. course. Stay. the. course. That needs to be my mantra.

Second I decided to send a long emotionally demanding email to my friend, Leah, who has adopted twice and is entering their third (with our agency.) She knows what she is doing. She is patient with my long emails but gives good, solid, serious advice that helps set me back on track.
(Anyone else want to receive long emotionally demanding emails from me? Because if so please let me know and I'd be happy to oblige and take some of the pressure off of Leah.)

Third I did my self-soothing blog stalking. For those of you who haven't engaged in this sport it involves returning to the same exact blogs over and over obsessively hoping your favorite writers have posted a new post about their time in Ethiopia, a new photo of their child, or - best of all - a long detailed post about the day they got their referral. You read every detail soaking in the happiness vicariously.

Finally I opened a Target registry. (Not that I am expecting a truck load of gifts. We will probably end up buying most of it ourselves.) But I did it. And I'm glad I did because wow there are a lot of online options. Target online is even bigger and more complicated than Target the store. I think I registered for about 5 things in over an hour. This is going to kill J. There is no way he can register with me. I think I need to "pre-register" and then take him with me and guide him. Ok, here are the things I registered for that I know I need for any age. A diaper pail. A clip on travel wipe thingy. A set of animal bathtub toys. A pacifier thermometer (because doesn't that just sound so much more civilized than the other options?) A xylaphone/piano toy. That's about it. All that's needed to be a toddler in America.

Bedding seems mysterious to me because I think I need silk of some sort to keep baby's hair nice. Is that right?

Safety stuff seems important but that is one area I think I will assign to J because it looks very boring.

Oh! I almost forgot! The one thing I am most excited about. I registered for a little red toddler wagon for pulling her to the park. (We have amazing parks at each end of our street.) It seats two. So Cassidy can ride along if she gets tired. Or we could bring a toddler friend I suppose...

None of these coping strategies gave me the high I was looking for. Including ordering Thai food.

So I emailed our agency coordinator. The one who sent me that great email back last month saying we were #3. I tried to control myself. I wanted to be the kind of person who could wait a month in between emails. But I needed the hit - the adrenaline rush I knew I'd get this morning when I saw her name in my inbox.

All of that lead up to say that we are still #3 but....moving up to #2 in the "next week or two." She must be in the process of giving out a referral this week and waiting for a family to accept.

This is good. This is good. I feel better this morning.

Leah reminded me that for every referral given there is a sad story. A family breaking apart, a child found to be sick, a parent saying goodbye or passing away. It is painful to think this way. As a professional I always used to view inter-country adoption that way. But as a mom on the waiting list it is interesting how different it feels. I have to remind myself of the sadness that brings a child to my number on the list.

The rest of this week I am going to remind myself to be praying daily for baby and the circumstances (totally out of her control) bringing her rapidly towards us.

~Amanda

Boutique baby fool-I should not be let out of the house without a chaperone

I am obsessed with this blog.

I spent...um...hours? reading it last night.

Maybe it is because the author lives in England and in my daydreams we are a witty little globe trotting family living in Oxford, eternally working on a Ph.D. thesis, attending church in a small stone building from the dawn of history, and riding the chunnel to Paris for long weekends.

Maybe it is because we both have an important J in our blog worlds.

Or maybe it is because she cracks me up and helps me laugh over some of our more awkward adoption moments.

This is one of my favorite stories.

Because it reminds me of last Sunday.

Last Sunday we were driving home from church down a street very close to our house with lots of boutique stores and restaurants when I spotted a new store. Or new to me store.

With baby stuff hanging in the window. Really cute baby stuff!

It's our first kid. I can still afford to daydream about boutique onesies and monogrammed baby carriers. We have not given up and gone straight to Babies R Us yet. (Although I'm sure we will before too long. I mean, after we've spent $50 on a onesie and pacifier we may decide the child actually needs more than that to survive.)

So I make J stop the car, I hop out while he goes to the gas station or somewhere equally uninteresting.

I open the door and step into boutique baby heaven. It is quiet. It smells like vanilla and lavendar. I am alone. I reverently pick up a few onesies from the sale rack and stroke them. I go into baby daydream mode. I pet blankets and examine a lot of weird looking accoutrements (sp?) that I have no idea what to do with. My wet shoes squeak quietly as I head up to the cloth diaper section. A fascinating wall display of cloth diapers. But not your mom's cloth diapers. Pre-shaped, buttoned, snapped, velcroed, emroidered, multi-colored, diapers and more diapers.

I start picking them up, examining them, stroking the soft fabric...

Then that inevitable moment. It's happened in other boutique baby stores.

SHE - she of the fertile mommyhood with a giant baby belly and a toddler sitting quietly coloring in the corner - she who works at boutique baby store for the discounts - enters my baby daydream space.

And I have to interact but it is SO Awkward. With a capital A.

In one glance she can see that I don't need cloth diapers. At least not for my own child. But who would buy cloth diapers for someone else's child? So she feels weird and I am running through the stories in my head. But you see I haven't perfected this situation yet. I tried it out at a different baby store and it almost ended in tears.

I ask about the different diaper brands and she explains that what we need depends on age/size. She looks at me expectantly with eyebrows raised. I say - "um, not newborn. Not big toddler. I don't know - I guess about one year. Yes, one year old. Maybe. Or maybe closer to 20 months. A smallish 20 months?" I think she doesn't believe me so she shows me the adjustable sized diaper system. Good...good. Now the rainy day and cup of coffee I had at church are getting to me and I am shifting around wondering when J is coming back to get me and sort of wondering if I could just buy a diaper for myself?

But the diaper systems are complicated and multi-faceted and she has no other customers. And she is hinting for more information. And she has to show me every single possible diaper option with those raised raised eyebrows. And it is taking FOREVER. And I can feel the stress rising as I try to keep myself from giving out any personal information.

My eyes are shifty. I blurt out that we're adopting. She then asks two things that stump me completely. 1. What's her name?? and 2. When is she coming home with you?

I'm prepared for what country? for what age range? for boy or girl? but not for much more.

Ah, the 24 million dollar questions really. And I loathe saying I don't know.

So I give her a month and a name. WHAT? Did I DO that? What is wrong with me?

To make a long story short I ended up SIGNING US UP for a class on cloth diapering. Oh yes. I did it. November 7th here we come. Looked at every single diaper option without looking at any of the prices. (This one really confused J.) AND managed to LIE about my future child. Now I can never go in that store again without an adorable one year old named ------- within the next 4 months. Oh my goodness. What is wrong with me?

At least when I read my new blog stalkee's post about the double stroller situation I didn't feel quite so ridiculous. But the difference is that she DIDN'T FABRICATE a story about her children!!

Huh. I should feel worse than I do. I should probably stop going into these type of stores and stick with the big impersonal stores. But you see, the problem is that J and I don't have any "stuff." And it took us over an hour to choose the 2 tiny baby toys I took with me to Ethiopia last month. Given that kind of track record we really need to be at least window shopping now, comparing brands, etc so when we finally get baby we'll have more than a $50 onesie and pacifier. (Not that I've even bought these things but these are the two things I actually can identify in the baby stores at this point.)

~Amanda

Where I am vs. where I wish I were

This. Is where I am today. (The view from my home office looking into the backyard.)


How is this possible you ask? It is only October 28th you point out.
Where is fall? Where are the leaves? Where are my mountain hikes? Where is the sunshine Colorado promised us?

Why can't I see the hammock anymore?
Why didn't I watch the weather channel?
Why is our Wednesday night meals group cancelling when we all live within 12 blocks of each other? (Seriously - don't you find that a little strange?)

This is where I wish I were.

Talay is very unhappy with this weather as well. This is Talay today. (Very very sad about the snow. Or maybe just the camera. She has photo phobia.)


She has very little body fat. I have decided to get her a doggie sweater. Something with little snowflakes. Like a ski sweater. I have not told J. He will not like that plan. But she is cold! Look at her!!

Oh, if only my Thai colleagues could see her now. The smug smiles, the clucking tongues. Yes, they would be horrified. They warned me heavily that a Thai dog would die in the American winter. (Never mind the fact that if she had stayed in Thailand she would have starved to death or been eaten alive by mange by now.) A sweater, yes, that is what she needs.

This is where Talay wishes she could be (taken last year on almost this exact date!)

I wish I were in Greece. Jeremy I spent almost two weeks in Greece in May for our 10th wedding anniversary. All I have now is a postcard.

I had an adoption dream last night. I dreamt that the agency called and offered us 3 siblings. They were not little - they were at least pre-teens. I kept thinking "but I asked for under 20 months old didn't I?" It was so confusing! Here come the crazy dreams!!

~Amanda

Baby stuff from Africa

If you have a puzzle full of tiny scratchy wooden pieces I do not recommend removing the outer wrapping. The photo above is a picture of my nemesis. Africa puzzle. I bought it for a few dollars in Nairobi. Today I made a bad choice and unwrapped it. I lost all of north and west Africa.

Dozens of tiny tiny confusingly shaped sharp edged puzzle pieces on my office floor.

Luckily I work from home. Which affords me the time to work on puzzles. Of course it couldn't have been Sub-Saharan Africa right? No, it was the entire portion of the continent that I know nothing about and haven't thought about since I took an African civilizations class in college.

The dogs sniffed the pieces and considered eating them. Most of the pieces had jagged edges (new project for J - sandpapering every back surface of this puzzle - should be super enthused to do that!)

Did I use my trusty wall map to figure out which countries go where? No! I did it all on my own and it only took 10 minutes or so. Should only take baby, oh, let's guess at 6 years and at least 10 choking incidents, to get this puzzled solved. For now it is going away in the closet. Far away.

My optimistic summer has been followed by a pessimistic fall.

I think it's because I left for Africa before the leaves even turned yellow and returned to Colorado in a special edition of Denver skips autumn and embraces winter.

Halloween. Y.u.c.k.
Holiday season begins with pumpkin patches and hay rides and costumes and cheery little voices at your door all night.

In my overly active imagination this year we are a safari themed family.
Baby is a giraffe (a magazine - how dare they send this to childless couples?? - arrived last week with tiny children in tiny animal costumes.) So baby is a giraffe. Jeremy could be either a lion or an elephant - something big and manly. And I will be whatever animal is the happiest. We stroll around the neighborhood showing off. Baby learns to say trick or treat. We gobble her candy after she goes to bed. Ahhhh. Maybe next year?

In REALITY Jeremy has to work - this always happens on Halloween for some reason. So it will be another year of answering the door every 2 seconds. Enduring children who barely dress up shoving bags in my face without saying trick or treat. (Who are these parents???) The dogs will be freaking out as usual and I will be promising little hands that they don't bite (and praying that they never make me regret those words.)

At some point I will be stuffed full of cheery Halloween friendliness and so I will turn out the light and ignore the angry teenagers who start coming out later. I will sit on the couch, watch scary movies that I should never watch alone, wonder where my youth went (ahh, remember the year in high school when I convinced mom and dad to let me go to my first Halloween party with COLLEGE friends?!) and eat the rest of the candy in the bowl. Candy that I bought to suit my taste anyway.

Where is this blog going? Oh, yes I think I called it baby stuff from Africa.

I am finding ways to keep cheerful. Mostly this involves baby name game which I use regularly to torture J, my sister, and random friends who are stupid enough to bring up the topic. Window shopping - which actually looks more like looking in the window for one second and then bounding into the store followed by me asking a million questions to the store people and pretending that I'm actually bringing a little someone home in the next few weeks. (A couple of times this has ended awkwardly as they've asked her name, age, etc. Sometimes I make things up and other times I admit I don't know who she is. Bleck. I prefer making it up during this game.) Finally - grand finale - organizing Africa "stuff" in the office/baby room and choosing prototypes for furniture I want J to build for baby.

Whew. Finding ways to stay cheerful really does take a lot of energy!

First up - the bed that J is making for baby. He doesn't love copying other people's designs but we both loved this daybed and we need the bed and trundle for guests anyway.

http://www.ethanallen.com/product?productId=1429&categoryId=8223
(He's building a side rail into the design.)

Second, fabric I bought in Africa for making throw pillow cases for the room. A few of the fabrics are so cute that I'd like to have pajamas or dresses made. I cannot sew though. At all. I will have to find someone willing to do this for me. Preferably for free. Out of pity would be fine.

If you own a sewing machine but do not want to be my new baby seamstress it would be best to pretend you didn't read this.

~Amanda

Victoria Falls

After the safari in Botswana, Kate and I went back across the border to Livingstone and spent a day at Victoria Falls. It was dry season so there wasn't as much water as usual. But it was still spectacular and we got the idea. In wet season you can get soaked from a mile away!

One morning we took a tour to Devil's Pool which is a little pool at the very top of the falls on the Zambian side. First you swim over to this rock island. The current is strong but there is a rope to hold onto. Then you jump from the rock island into Devil's Pool. You can't see it in the photos but there is a rock wall underneath the water forming this little natural pool that prevents you from going over the edge. The water was incredibly warm.

We jumped in! It was a big stretch for me since I'm scared of heights. But it felt like a once in a lifetime opportunity.

We don't have many great photos in the pool because our guide was really excited about being in the pictures. We didn't realize it when we were there - I think adrenaline had taken over. But later looking at the photos Kate and I just died laughing at our new "boyfriend" and his enthusiasm. Sorry for this photo Kate - it is not our best. But it really personifies our crazy friend.

It was a beautiful experience and a really fun 24 hours at one of the 7 natural wonders of the world. After the Devil's Pool we ate eggs benedict and scones with coffee at a little outdoor patio looking over the falls and watched while the sun came out and created rainbows over the water. Breathtaking.

~Amanda

Even I am getting sick of reading myself whine!

I slept on it. And I read your comments and emails.

So many good points made!

So here's what I did. I emailed a full description of T - her size, her looks, the way she interacted - to the WACAP social worker to pass along to the family. And I told her she could share my email if that's what T's mom really wants. But I don't want to initiate contact myself.

That should give them what they need. And takes the responsibility out of my hands. Not that I have any hard feelings at all. But I think that my feelings about being in touch with the family were very selfish feelings of curiosity. A desire for closure that may or may not be totally possible.

I'm actually tired of the drama. I think this adoption feeds something in me that isn't my favorite part of my personality. Drama. Throwing yourself on the bed with a giant flop, eye rolling, deep sighing, whoa is me, drama.

Even I am tired of reading this sob-story of a blog these days. I just got to go on a safari! Note to self - life is not perfect and you can't always have your way. Need to be more thankful in general.

Time to move on and think about little #3. And we are #3 on the list! Seems like a good omen.

Today it is sunny and even though the snow was blowing over the mountains in the distance the air is still and warmer down here in Denver.The leaves are still on the trees. It is my favorite time of year and I've barely noticed since I got home!

So I'm finding new ways of keeping excited. I forced J into the baby names talk last night. (He was a really nice participant for about 10 minutes.) Then we talked about our birthdays which are coming up in November and December. For my birthday I asked for a whole day of looking at decorations, toddler "stuff" and visiting baby stores. ;) He was really ready to agree to anything to make me happy which is one wonderful side effect of the recent drama.

There is going to be no more whining here. I promise.

~Amanda

back on the rollercoaster...

Hey Everyone,

Sometimes the blog feels like a diary and other times it feels like I'm writing letters to friends.
Today I'm writing a letter to everyone who's been reading along, whether I know you or not, to ask for some advice.

I stepped away from the ride for a few days and tried to just get back to work and into the swing of life at home.

Yesterday I was dragged back on.

First, our "Notice of Favorable Determination" arrived from USCIS. This is the I171H form. Good news! It is the form we were dying to get fingerprinted for before I left to travel. But now I have no idea what to do next. I love AAI but I'm a little confused about the next step in the paperwork. Is it over? Can someone with experience please comment and tell me?

Then, this morning, I got an email from WACAP. Did I mention that I sent the photos of T to our former WACAP contact to pass along to her new family? I did this with equal part hope that it would bring them joy and equal part hope that WACAP would tell me that actually their adoption fell through and T was available again. Just being honest here. You know I always promised I'd be real...

So this morning I got the email. Saying that T's adoptive mom loved the pictures and wants me to email her. WACAP sent me her email address and said it's up to me. I don't know why I didn't see that coming but I really didn't at all. I hoped for a few word thank you and promise they would adore her. NOT a request to email.

J thinks I should say no and then put this behind me and forget it.

I am dying of curiosity. But equally devastated again. What if I think she's great? What if I think she's horrible? Oh yuck. yuck. yuck. More than anything I want to know where T will be in the U.S. when she comes home. But why? Why do I want to know that? I can't see clearly here at all.

What do you ladies (and Jon who I think reads this) think I should do?
Serious advice needed.

~Amanda