Update! There were three more infant referrals last week! I am not pulling out the banner yet, though, because this is how my conversation went with WACAP last Thursday.
Me: "Three referrals, what does this mean???!"
WACAP: "Well, it could mean that you get a referral next week, next month, or even a few months from now."
Me: "Oh, well what number are we now on the list?"
WACAP: "Because of confidentiality, I can't give you details, but you are now actually #4 and not #3....
(as I was calculating- and my guess is that someone put a hold on their spot on the wait list a while back and just got back on. It happens. Of course, with our luck, 10 more families will sneak back in front of us when we are next in line for referral, then that 10th family will get their referral and ET adoptions will shut down)
... and since you are now on a few lists because you raised your age limit to 18 months, then you are really also like #3 on this other list, but then #7 on this one list, and then you are still #4 on that one....."
Me: " Geeze....I sort of liked my one little list I had before, because that would put us at #2"
WACAP: "Yes, it is complicated to look at those numbers when you get so close, but remember, you ARE close, so hold on.... but don't hold your breath."
Me: "Well, are you telling families different expected wait times?"
WACAP: "No, we are sticking with the 10-12 month wait time for referral."
Me: "Oh, that is good because we are just over 11 months!"
WACAP" "Yes, you are so close! But again, you might want to think about redoing your fingerprints because they expire in November (we have to have those updated for referral/court)."
Me: "November?!?! Oh man, I need a drink."
WACAP: "Don't worry, you'll have her home EVENTUALLY. Happy Easter!"
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Snow, sun, solitude, smiles
It has been an unusually wet and dreary spring, so we were overly anxious to take a road trip south for a long Easter weekend. Utah is great this for these kind of opportunities. We left the chilly, snowy mountains, drove 4 hours south, and we were in a 30 degree warmer desert town robust with palm trees!
We usually camp, but due to the fact that this was only going to be a 3 day jaunt, we decided to hotel it. So happy we did because we just got to RELAX the entire time. We hiked, biked, joined a local park's Easter egg hunt, meandered at an arts festival, played a mean game of miniature golf, and the Kid got to practice his swimming skills at the hotel's pool.
The best day was the first afternoon. As the boys were out biking (sans me and my bleepity-bleep back!), I walked an amazing redrock trail. I soaked in the solitude, got inspired for my next painting (dare say I am not even remotely talented in this area, but sure am having fun with it!), and looked for bugs, flowers, animal burrows, and cocoons for the Kid on his return. A lovely day, indeed.
Here' sharing in the fun!
Check out the new wheels! The first few miles, the boy screeched the entire time, "This is the most fun of my liiiiife!"
The kid found a pet caterpillar on a hike, so he carried it for a while, but when it got "too heavy" we stopped to make it a habitat, and then (as usual) had to document the moment with a photo. Note the cross. It was really was a flag, but it fell down a nanosecond before taking the shot, the stems crossed, and a cross was revealed. "It's a miracle!" We chalked this up as our religious, Good Friday moment. That, and the possibility that this caterpillar did something rather saintly in its little life.
There is nothing like the power of soft, cool sand falling through the fingers.
And then, out of nowhere, we stumbled across a ferocious, prehistoric crocodile! Thank goodness the Playmobil men stowed away in the Kid's backpack to save the day... and the world!
Knowing the men had things under control, we went back to the business of burying toes.
We usually camp, but due to the fact that this was only going to be a 3 day jaunt, we decided to hotel it. So happy we did because we just got to RELAX the entire time. We hiked, biked, joined a local park's Easter egg hunt, meandered at an arts festival, played a mean game of miniature golf, and the Kid got to practice his swimming skills at the hotel's pool.
The best day was the first afternoon. As the boys were out biking (sans me and my bleepity-bleep back!), I walked an amazing redrock trail. I soaked in the solitude, got inspired for my next painting (dare say I am not even remotely talented in this area, but sure am having fun with it!), and looked for bugs, flowers, animal burrows, and cocoons for the Kid on his return. A lovely day, indeed.
Here' sharing in the fun!
Check out the new wheels! The first few miles, the boy screeched the entire time, "This is the most fun of my liiiiife!"
The kid found a pet caterpillar on a hike, so he carried it for a while, but when it got "too heavy" we stopped to make it a habitat, and then (as usual) had to document the moment with a photo. Note the cross. It was really was a flag, but it fell down a nanosecond before taking the shot, the stems crossed, and a cross was revealed. "It's a miracle!" We chalked this up as our religious, Good Friday moment. That, and the possibility that this caterpillar did something rather saintly in its little life.
There is nothing like the power of soft, cool sand falling through the fingers.
And then, out of nowhere, we stumbled across a ferocious, prehistoric crocodile! Thank goodness the Playmobil men stowed away in the Kid's backpack to save the day... and the world!
Knowing the men had things under control, we went back to the business of burying toes.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
If walls could talk
We found, bought, and moved into our home last December. Yes, it was a nutty, whirlwind kind of month. I just knew that this house had to be ours because of its happy vibe, so it was worth how many years that month aged me. I also believe this house to have a nice story.
Okay, so I really don't know it's story, but this is what I do know as fact. There was a husband and wife that lived and passed away here. The husband died before the wife, and I believe they were in their 90's. We bought this house as an estate sale, and the day of the inspection was the day before before the sale of her belongings. As my husband and the inspector were out doing inspecty things, I had the opportunity to walk around the house - around this woman's things. All of her cherished belongings such as jewelry, fancy hats, old records, china, figurines of hummingbirds, and memorabilia of their children were displayed on card tables. Her dresser and cabinet drawers were all open and looked as though her things were placed as she left them. After a few hours of walking around and taking this in, I felt myself getting to know her - like I was house guest to a friend.
I felt sad for her as I put things in perspective for myself. We work all of our lives for our "things", and then we die, and they end up on a card table with a $1.00 hastly written on an orange dot. Humbling.
I could never quite understand when people said you could feel a person's "energy" until then, but I did. I continued to feel it a week later when we got the keys and moved in. I am not talking spooky ghost stuff, but I could practically feel "her" around me by her carefully picked blue tulip wallpaper with matching curtain ensemble in the kitchen, the fancy gold light fixtures, and the handicap bars by the toilet and tub (tee-hee).
Funny thing, but as I started taking down that wallpaper, I found myself mentally explaining - almost apologizing - for changing out her style for ours. I hoped that she would approve of the new green we put in the kitchen, or super bright orange and purple aliens on the Kid's wall. We were were bringing back to life this old, tired house with our young family, and silly me felt this need for her to give me the thumbs up along the way.
Last weekend I was doing some laundry, and out of boredom, my eyes started taking in the surroundings of our unfinished laundry/storage room. I looked up toward the ceiling rafters, and there, practically above my head, I saw the top half of an old white box. Out of curiosity (okay - pure excitement!), I got a ladder and climbed up to retrieve it. And this is what I found...
Yes, it is true... love letters! Seriously, do you think I could sell this story to the Hallmark channel? For the next few days, myself and the Kid (never knew he was such a romantic) laid around and randomly read some of the 100+ letters. The letters were from the 40's, and we learned that he was a pilot in the Army and stationed overseas most of the time. They lived in Rhode Island and Massachusetts their first years of marriage, and it was there that the wife, Barbara ("Barbie"), raised their babies on her own. The letters ranged for 10 years. They were devout Catholic, and by the "My dear... My darling.... I miss you so", I think they lived the great American love story.
Like the pink bow that these letters were wrapped with, I feel this find is the perfect ribbon to tie together the story of us in our new home. The romantic in me likes to think that maybe this is a sign of what is to come; in keeping with the spirit of this house, we are to now meant to raise our family (including our daughter) in it's love. I know this is so cliche, but now more than ever, I believe it is not the "stuff", but rather just the home - and the people in it - where the heart is.
Okay, so I really don't know it's story, but this is what I do know as fact. There was a husband and wife that lived and passed away here. The husband died before the wife, and I believe they were in their 90's. We bought this house as an estate sale, and the day of the inspection was the day before before the sale of her belongings. As my husband and the inspector were out doing inspecty things, I had the opportunity to walk around the house - around this woman's things. All of her cherished belongings such as jewelry, fancy hats, old records, china, figurines of hummingbirds, and memorabilia of their children were displayed on card tables. Her dresser and cabinet drawers were all open and looked as though her things were placed as she left them. After a few hours of walking around and taking this in, I felt myself getting to know her - like I was house guest to a friend.
I felt sad for her as I put things in perspective for myself. We work all of our lives for our "things", and then we die, and they end up on a card table with a $1.00 hastly written on an orange dot. Humbling.
I could never quite understand when people said you could feel a person's "energy" until then, but I did. I continued to feel it a week later when we got the keys and moved in. I am not talking spooky ghost stuff, but I could practically feel "her" around me by her carefully picked blue tulip wallpaper with matching curtain ensemble in the kitchen, the fancy gold light fixtures, and the handicap bars by the toilet and tub (tee-hee).
Funny thing, but as I started taking down that wallpaper, I found myself mentally explaining - almost apologizing - for changing out her style for ours. I hoped that she would approve of the new green we put in the kitchen, or super bright orange and purple aliens on the Kid's wall. We were were bringing back to life this old, tired house with our young family, and silly me felt this need for her to give me the thumbs up along the way.
Last weekend I was doing some laundry, and out of boredom, my eyes started taking in the surroundings of our unfinished laundry/storage room. I looked up toward the ceiling rafters, and there, practically above my head, I saw the top half of an old white box. Out of curiosity (okay - pure excitement!), I got a ladder and climbed up to retrieve it. And this is what I found...
Yes, it is true... love letters! Seriously, do you think I could sell this story to the Hallmark channel? For the next few days, myself and the Kid (never knew he was such a romantic) laid around and randomly read some of the 100+ letters. The letters were from the 40's, and we learned that he was a pilot in the Army and stationed overseas most of the time. They lived in Rhode Island and Massachusetts their first years of marriage, and it was there that the wife, Barbara ("Barbie"), raised their babies on her own. The letters ranged for 10 years. They were devout Catholic, and by the "My dear... My darling.... I miss you so", I think they lived the great American love story.
Like the pink bow that these letters were wrapped with, I feel this find is the perfect ribbon to tie together the story of us in our new home. The romantic in me likes to think that maybe this is a sign of what is to come; in keeping with the spirit of this house, we are to now meant to raise our family (including our daughter) in it's love. I know this is so cliche, but now more than ever, I believe it is not the "stuff", but rather just the home - and the people in it - where the heart is.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Update
Yes, we had a few heart attacks in our family this week because there were two referrals sent out from our agency. Yes, you read that right.... TWO! Let me remind you, there have not been referrals (with the exception of older/special needs kids) since November. Two referrals is not at the old rapid pace, but at least this means there is a tiny bit of movement again.
I have also been hearing some great news, such as one bloggy friend from another agency, that was not expecting a referral until late summer, was completely shocked to get the "the call" a few days ago! Another bloggy went from #11 (waitlist) to referral in a matter of 2 weeks. It seems as though there is just general movement in the ET adoption community all together. Even though my pessimism says that this might be false hope to grasp on to - it is better than no hope!
Our current numbers on the waitlist are (meaning people before us to get matched):
*Infant girl= #4
*Total on the waitlist
(Including requests for
either gender) = #7
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)