Gettin' my craft on!

This is just all part of rediscovering myself. The last several years was about building a relationship with my husband, having a child, raising a child, relocating, graduate school, gaining confidence in my career, putting our lives on hold waiting for referral. That was good and interesting times, but now we are in our new home that we want to establish roots in. I am in a job I want to stick with. These are new beginnings. It is time to now pull back the reigns and focus on the two most important things in my life; my family and myself. My crummy back will always be just that - which makes life different, but does not have to be bad. Our adoption is delayed, but that can be okay. This is just part of my journey to getting there - to finding new interests and hobbies to make life fun and interesting!

And what is part of that journey? Well, I'm getting my craft on, baby! My crafting endeavours are currently all over the spectrum and definitely not polished, but I am experimenting to find my niche.

Back in March, I attempted my first painting...


...and started felting. In my early twenties while living in Portland, my good friend and former roommate, Terri, was/is a very talented seamstress. Our house was full of scraps of fleece flying about (we would go and sell her creations at Grateful Dead shows), and I would collect those scraps for little projects such as these. It's been fun rekindling this hobby again, and since I obviously don't have my girl yet, there are some pretty psyched little girl friends in our lives right now! I'm digging my Eric Carle headband and thinking I might have to get a story theme going.

OMG... the day just gets more exciting!

First, I get that call from my husband about the ET bill (see next post), then literally a few minutes later, my house was crawling with super cool hipster TV producers and designers.

Seriously.

Felt like a complete country bumpkin.

Anyhow, it seems that we are one step closer to having our house picked for that new design show HGTV'd (on HGTV). The whole process was sooo interesting. They seemed to know everything about us and our story, so even though I had the my own pitch of what I wanted from my "dream space", they scooted me off to my deck where I sat for an hour with the producer. He was easy to talk to and I am betting we knew each other's life stories at the end of the hour. While this was happening, on the inside of my house about 8 people we dong "top secret" planning. They all came in armed with laptops and tape measures. They closed the doors and windows so I could not hear. When they were done, they came out and also chilled on our deck looking at this amazing view, talked about adoption (one producer also adopted) and confirmed what we already knew.... we scored a cool pad.

This is from our back deck...


And this from our front deck (and part of the room they will hopefully transform), and then looking down our street.



As many of you may or may not know the story - we bought this home as an estate sale last December. We lost our shirts with our last dump and never would have dreamed we could live in this nice of an area, and would not have if we had not landed this super excellent deal. Our dream would be to live in a little house in the woods or a cool walking community in a city, but since our jobs have taken us where is has, we're very lucky beyond measure to have landed this home. Anyhow, the space is challenging and I have no decorating sense AT ALL, nor do we have the money to do a lot (surely you all know where our money is going.... adoption ain't cheap!), hence how we and HGTV have joined forces.

What now? It seems they have a few houses in the area to also scout out, but (not meaning to get my hopes up - but probably too late) they seemed really positive and energized about our space, so keep fingers crossed! I should know within two weeks if we were picked and will be keeping the updates coming!

It's a sign!!!

My husband just called me. He and the Kid are on a lay-over in DC (enroute to Boston). They went to a restaurant to get food, slid into a booth to eat, and guess what was laying on the seat? A $1.00 ET bill. What are the chances? It's a sign!!!

I also can't help but randomly post this pic. The Kid dressed himself then asked if he looked like a Rock Star. I think it is so stinkin' cute (yet slightly terrifying at the same time)!

"Let's not give up"

Today the kid and I were on the internet writing a story on PBSkids.org. The Kid was telling me the words, I typed, and he drew the pictures. The storyline was about a blue dinosaur that lived on a blue planet and he wants to fly to earth so he can see colors. He was proud of himself and said,

K (Kid): I would like to print all of my stories so one day I can read them to Baby Sister.

M (Me): You mentioned last week that you did not want to talk about her. Do you want to talk about her again?

K: Yes, kind of. Why does it have to take so long?

M: Because she has a family there in Ethiopia, but there are reasons why her family members can't take care of her.... like maybe they are really sick. They just want to try to make sure everything possible is done to see if they can help keep her there with someone in her birth family before they send her far away to live. That's the right thing to do and I am glad they are doing that.

K: If she flew to us, would we just take care of her for a while until her mom and dad in Ethiopia felt better?

M: No, she would not come to us unless her family could never take care of her again. She would always and forever be a permanent part of our family.

K: Do you think she is there in the orphanage now?

M: I am not sure, but something in me says she is and they are deciding if she should stay there or come here. It is really hard waiting this long, huh?

K: Yes, I am sick of it. It is taking SOOOOOOOOO long.

M: Dad and I think that we want to wait until it starts snowing again, then if we don't have her by that time, we might give up the hope. We'll know that we tried our very, very best, but maybe there is not a baby meant to come to our family, and that is okay because we are happy the way we are. What do you think about that?

K: Hmmmm... I don't really want to stop hoping she'll come and want to still talk about her sometimes. We could give her a lot of love.

M: I know. We do have a lot of love. Okay, let's not give up the hope yet and keep talking about her sometimes.

K: Good!

13

Today marks 13 months waiting for referral and I can't....

....believe it!

(but here's the thing - number 13 is our lucky number, so come on lucky 13!)

Memory lane

I've been feeling pretty nostalgic lately. Summer break has started, so that means I can now slow down those fast spinning wheels just enough to relax, observe, and reflect.

I am betting you have never asked yourself why I have named this blog Two Little Birds, but if you choose to continue reading this post, I'm going to share the story as I take you on a trip down memory lane.

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Here's a picture of my little guy the first time we met. I love how he cranked his head so we could meet eye to eye. Instant connection. Serious case of love at first sight.


Here's my 3.14 pound little fighter. He was a little pissed because he was not ready to leave the confines of the womb, it was hard to breath (C-PAP for 3 days), his tummy hurt (hernia), and he missed his mommy. I became ill just after his delivery and could not see him for 4 torturous days. Seriously, the worst ever.


Luckily, his daddy did not leave his side. He jump started the bonding and learned to do the diapers and feedings.


He even tried to pump for me, but that did not work out very well. His hairs just kept clogging the tubes.



Having a hunch that our little guy would have a hard time when he entered this world, a wise nurse suggested that we pick a song and start singing it while in utero, and continue to sing it when he was an infant in hopes that the familiarity would sooth him. We picked "Three Little Birds" by Bob Marley and the idea worked like a charm! Here's me rocking him after his hernia surgery at one month old. I sang this song over and over. Surely the NICU staff thought I had hormonally lost it, but I did not mind. It seemed to calm his pain, and that was all that mattered.

"Singing don't worry, about a thing, every little thing's gonna be alright"



This picture is difficult to look at - very bitter sweet. This was good-bye to my little guy before heading back to the hospital for my final surgery; the one that would solidify our path toward adoption if we wanted our family to grow. I'd have to leave him for another week again, but knew it was necessary. I was desperate to be his mommy 110%. He was three months old and we needed around the clock help to care for him because my body was not doing well physically. The only way I was able to even stand (and surely explaining that smile) was that I was on heavy narcotics.... morphine drips, even.

Fast forwarding a month later, and after a complicated surgery and narcotic withdrawal, I was feeling much better, so my mom gave me a departing gift before she flew home. She treated my zapped, dehydrated skin to a facial. Even though my emotions were peaks and valleys, that day started as a peak. I was going to a spa and the next day we were going to finally give it a shot of being our family of three on our own! My intention this day was to put the story of our joys (my healthy son) and great sadness (premature hysterectomy) behind us and just relax.

I am now going to tell you what Husband calls one for my "freaky stories". I also want to give a disclaimer, mostly because I don't want to give the impression that I am a total loon. I am simply going to share because it was an experience that has guided me. I do not claim to be a big believer in anything such as psychic powers, ghosts, reincarnation, etc., but I can say that there is a handful of times in my life that something extraordinary and unexplainable has happened, and frankly I don't really care to analyze or label the experience - rather just ponder the mystic of it.

The spa was in a gorgeous Victorian on a peaceful street in downtown Portland. My bed was next to an open window with a fragrant blooming tree filtering the light. I had luxurious heated blankets covering my body with only my face exposed. My technician was a trendy twenty-something Portland hipster. She entered the room after I had laid down and covered myself. The only words we exchanged were "hello" and "just a facial, please". My facial was given in blissful silence so that I could soak up the serenity.

And then things started to get weird.

No kidding, not one foot from my head, a song bird perched and started singing it's melody. It's song was so beautiful, it was dreamlike - but I was totally conscious. It was like the bird was cued to enter left stage just at that moment. Without questioning, I laid there and listened to my personalized solo (okay, and wondering if I was having morphine flashbacks, or maybe a little something was slipped in my tea), while the tech continued to massage my face. After a few minutes, the bird departed and the tech said,

"There you go. You are so sad and you have been through so much. That little bird stopped by to tell you that your sadness will fade and every (little) thing will be alright. May I do some body work with you?"

(Don't get too excited, folks. This is will stay G rated)

The 5 or so minutes that followed, she walked around the table that I laid on and hovered her hands over my blanketed body. She then stopped, softly took my hand and said, "I hope you don't mind if I share this message. You have experienced a great loss in your pelvis area, but please don't let the this loss overcome you. You have a beautiful son and I see you surrounded by more than one child in your future."

Then on that note, she told me that we were done, to take as much time as I needed, and she calmly left the room. I never saw her again, but as I laid there on that table for several minutes gushing my eyes out, I knew that this experience would not leave me. Call it what you may.... a hallucination, message from God, psychic experience, a twisted joke.... but to me it was an experience of HOPE and it has stuck.

Funny, but without thinking about the "bird" theme, the next few years I found little birds to be a symbolic icon in my life. After someone made the comment, I finally noticed that I had little birds on my purse, clothes, pictures, cloth shopping bags.



Here's my little bird five years later. With all do respect, Mr. Marley, your music gives my family great pleasure and I hope you don't mind that we've altered your song just a bit to fit for us as we frequently sing it together. Instead of "three little birds", we've changed it to "two little birds" because we have one in the nest and one that will (hopefully) be flying home to us shortly.

"Woke up this morning, smiled at the rising song. Two little birds beside my doorstep. Singing their sweet songs, melody pure and true...."

Like the new digs?

Just changing it up a little. It is the theme lately; changing my wall colors, decor, landscaping, hobbies, activities, diet, blog, attitude.

"Why do we need to keep talking about it?!"

I like to peek at the big adoption board (blogs from 100's of ET adopters) to keep an eye on referral movement with other agencies. I find that headers usually contain lot of caps and exclamation points when families get in the top 10 to be matched ("OMG...we're number TEN!!!"). This means that if you get to 10, you typically have nine families ahead of you to be matched with a child. If you start following their blogs, it will show a pretty fast progression when they reach this number and are matched within the month or two.

Just to give you an idea of where we have been.... we have been in the top 10 for 6 months. We seem to have stalled at #4 for a few. Before that when we were with Taiwan, we "think" we were in the top 10 for 2 years (it was a *secret* where we were, hence giving that agency the boot). When we switched to Ethiopia 12 months ago, we started at around #50. Referrals were coming so fast by last November that we were talking about her every day, pricing plane tickets, buying pink stuff. Around the holidays, things came to a screeching halt.

We have been in this holding cell for a very, very, VERY long time.

Today I took the Kid and his little friend to the zoo. In typical only child fashion, the Kid kept ordering his little friend around and showed little tolerance with doing any other agenda than what he wanted to do.

After we dropped her off, I began discussing his behavior with him, and then brought up "Baby Sister".

Me: "You know, when we get Baby Sister, it will be you and someone else all the time - just like today."

Kid: "UGH! Why do we need to even talk about Baby Sister. We probably won't ever even get her anyway!"

So, there it is. I am again reminded that there is another person in the equation that is effected by this adoption drama. He's a little guy with a big heart. Even though we really don't talk about Sister a lot, after this last winter's ET adoption nightmarish restructuring that led to our decision of a December deadline (no referral = no adoption), we have been prepping him that this might not ever happen for us. Clearly by his emotional reaction today, he is feeling loss simply by the idea.

We agreed not to talk about it again unless he wants to bring it up. I know this is what he needs, even though I feel the urge to keep talking about it - simply to keep this worn down, beaten up adoption dream alive. Who would have ever guessed that being so close to our dream could make us feel closer to losing it? Sad.

"There's a bee in my pocket"

People have always said that your kid's childhood goes by in a flash, but up until recently, I have not felt this way at all. There have been several days this last 5 years that have gone by at a snail's pace - gliding through a tar pit. Hmmm... wonder why that was? Was it possibly because he was EXTREMELY CHALLENGING? Was it just during the terrible 2's? Bwhahaha! Make that the terrible 1, 2, 3, 4's. Of course, there was a lot of wonderful sprinkled in (and despite the challenges, I love him so much it hurts), but usually a dose of wonderful had an after shock of a mega earthquake.

Then about 2 months ago, it all just seemed to change. We get bouts of the good ol' power struggles, but he is mostly just fabulous! He's agreeable, stops when you say "no", and a serious snuggle bug. Lately he has discovered I-tunes and has a play list on his computer. He will loop his songs over and over (Let's Dance, Dynamite). The other night I caught him lip singing his songs in front of the mirror with swaying hips and booty shakes. He won't let us cut his hair (wants it long and crazy) and is already talking about tattoos. Oh my! It's like he went from toddler to teen in a matter of days! Now I get that "time flying by" thing.

My little buddy graduated from preschool this week. I cried. Yes, I have discovered that I will be one of THOSE moms that blubbers over a one word liner in the school play. He will be going to the same school next year, which is lucky because he adores it! We also adore his school because it fits perfectly with his creative and scientific mind.

Scrolling down the pictures, notice the award that says, "Best Storyteller". Really that is just a kind way of saying "Best Lier". He came up with some real whoppers this year. Examples are once I came to school and had a teacher stop me in the hall to sympathize with me. She (and practically the entire preschool staff) were still shocked and horrified by the Kid's detailed play-by-play of our morning drive to school - which included getting a flat tire in a blizzard, swerving off the road into a snow bank, getting stuck, then needing to walk in the dark for one mile to school. They totally fell for it.... and it never happened.

Another story involved a bee. When asked to clean up his activity, the Kid claimed that he had a bee in his pocket and the bee did not like the Kid to clean, so when the he bent down to pick something up, the bee would get really mad and sting him in the leg - therefore, the teachers should naturally excuse him from all clean-up so he would not get too injured from the bee.

(Oh please, powers that be, help us help him channel this "creative outlet" in a productive way. Amen.)