Three steps forward and 1 baby step back

The good news: Rosie will still be moving in with us as planned on 1/20.

The tiny bit of bad news: We won't meet Rosie until Tuesday, January 4th. There are a few good reasons for this, and I can't share them. The weather is a secondary factor as icy rain is predicted for most of the days we're supposed to be travelling.

All in all, I'm not too upset by the shift in dates since the ultimate end date stays the same. I'm more troubled by the pain Rosie has to go through.  So to lift my spirits I'm hijacking this blog with pictures that make me happy.

This is me and my sister as babies:

Me and my first friend, ever: David

U2 Show in Chicago

My favorite pirate and Minnie Mouse

The countdown is really on

Today we finish a preliminary appointment required to meet Rosie. Our parents and my aunt are attending today's session that will provide tips and tricks to caring for Rosie.

Beginning today, we're in the final seconds of the countdown. Today is the last day we can change our mind. Since we're not going to learn anything new about Rosie, a change of heart is unlikely.

Tomorrow, Rosie learns about us. Imagine that--being 10 and handed a picture of people who will be your parents.

Thursday we meet Rosie. This first meeting is a short one--probably 2 hours at most spent letting her show us her room.

Friday we all get a small break we all might need--especially Rosie who I would imagine would still be spinning from all of this.

Saturday we'll go back up to the foster home to have dinner with Rosie. We'll spend the night near there and return for breakfast Sunday.

I kind of wish I had created a construction paper chain to tear apart day by day. I'll have to be satisfied with the mental vision of the little rings ripping in half.

Introducing your parents

Rosie will meet us on Wednesday through this book. Merry Christmas, little one.

Click here to view this photo book larger

Our lives are made in these small hours

Another Christmas has passed.  The house was decorated. So were the cookies. A usual, we all had a great time, and time seemed to go too quickly. Some years I feel I can slow time a bit by sipping on a hot cup of cocoa and reflecting on that moment while enjoying the loved ones around me.

This year I enjoyed myself, but I didn't want to pause time, and Christmas moments got lost in my mind among all the thoughts of this Thursday's event. On Thursday the 30th we meet our daughter, Rosie, and for better or worse, all the twinkling lights, thoughtful gifts, and loved ones couldn't push  Rosie mind out my mind.

Now though, my nerves are staring to run laps in my stomach. I told Mike, meeting Rosie reminds me of telling his parents we were engaged.

There are a few similarities. First, his parents were learning they were gaining a daughter and had little control over that fact. Second, I was extremely worried about how they would react, and I wanted so badly for it to go well. I wanted to be accepted immediately and without pause.

Unlike Rosie, Mike's parents had the benefit of actually knowing me. Yet all familiarity flew away in this exchange. I figured even though they might like me as a girlfriend for their son they might not like me as much as their son's wife who will be a permanent guest at holiday events. I also assumed that in that in that moment, their eyes would, at least for a moment, reflect their emotional response to the news.

Mike's Injured Packer Cookie

I was thrilled. The engagement announcement went extremely well--better than I had hoped. I didn't see a flicker of disappointment or worry in either of my in-law's eyes, and Mike's mom hugged me immediately. To this day, it is probably one of my favorite memories.

Rosie, of course, is being faced with a very different reality since she knows nothing about us or if she can trust us, and I have no idea what to expect, which is why I'm extremely nervous and excited to embed that moment into my memory. There's a Rob Thomas song that captures my feelings--and how I will end this blog entry.

Tie a string around my finger

Last Tuesday I started experiencing what I can only call "mommy brain," which is a condition I didn't think I'd experience since I don't have hormones surging through my veins like pregnant moms.

First, I brought two left shoes to the gym for my 5 a.m. run. I nearly cried when I realized what I'd done because I knew I didn't have time to go home and get the correct shoes.  So the entire 4 a.m. wake-up was a waste. I walked out to the gym floor holding the two lefties tethered together by a shoe string looking pouty and defeated. The trainer and running classmate laughed as we stared at my big black winter boots that clearly wouldn't make good running or even walking shoes.(Picture Bender's boots from The Breakfast Club.)

On Thursday, I got to the gym at 5 a.m. with a left and a right shoe. I got in a decent workout, and after I showered and was toweling off realized my work clothes were sitting in the car. Thankfully, I wore my sweatpants and sweatshirt as a cover-up since my running clothes are not really winter appropriate. So I put my sweats back on, drove to work and used the locker rooms there to change into more work appropriate attire.

On top of clothing mishaps, I forgot my cell phone twice, and I was supposed to bring my sister cookie cutters and a mixer last Wednesday, which I forgot as well. So is this "mommy's brain" caused by my thoughts being consumed with thoughts and plans for Rosie?  Or is it a symptom of not being able to run for the past 3 weeks while I let my knee heal? Lack of endorphins do bad things to me. Or is it a combination of the those factors colliding with having to also prepare for Christmas? Who knows.

One thing is for sure, in one week from now we will have met Rosie. Maybe then my memory will start to come back? It's actually really bugging me as being organized, being planned for 5 years at a time is something I've found comforting--even if it's only so I can abruptly change those plans mid-way in.

The time line has also changed a bit. Rosie will move in the weekend of the 20th, which is when her quarter ends. This is actually a welcome change from Martin Luther King Day weekend because it gives us one more weekend to have her here for a sleepover.

DATES CONFIRMED!!!

And we'll meet our daughter in this order:

December 29th: Rosie gets our book from her social worker, and learns we are going to be her parents. How crazy is that?  The little girl I've been thinking about since July will be just hearing my name for the first time.

December 30th: We meet Rosie.

January 14/15: Rosie moves down with us.

A few wintery scenes for Rosie

Dear Rosie,

Today we were busy shoveling out. The show is so deep I'm pretty sure when you move in there will be plenty of us to create a snow fort with.

 Here I am in the backyard where snow was up to my knees or higher in most places.

 I thought this was a pretty shot of our alley. The thing I like about snow storms are how bright and peaceful everything seems afterward.

 Here's our garage, and you can see the plows have created snow banks that are easily 4 feet high.

 
My car is just covered in snow, especially in the front.

The only bummer was we were supposed to go bake cookies with your cousin, Abby, as well as your aunts, uncles and grandparents. Since they haven't plowed our street, we had to skip it. I love baking cookies, especially Christmas cookies. When you join our family we can make sugar cookies to frost and decorate together. I hope you can help!

Anyway, this is the most snow in one storm since I was nearly your age, and it was kind of fun. We hope you had fun, too.

Love,
Mom

Snow Day!

It's December 11th, but it sort of feels like December 24th. The weather has put a usually busy December weekend on hold. It takes a lot to slow us down, but a foot of blowing and drifting snow provides a little break from the hustle and bustle of Christmas shopping.

Here's Eddie enjoying the winter storm:

Today as I shoveled I couldn't help but wonder what Rosie was up to. Time seems far more precious to me now than ever before--particularly its passing. Every moment we miss with Rosie makes me a little sad because it's a moment we won't get back. Although it seems depressing, it's actually been a welcome reminder of how precious my time is with all my friends and family. Plus, we will have a lot of special moments with our daughter.

If anything, this Christmas all those wistful songs written during WWII about soldiers pining for their homes just seem a little more real to me. Or heck, even one of my favorite songs "All I Want For Christmas Is You" has a different meaning--except, again, that's a love song for adults--but it's about wanting something other than the material things.

This week I organized one of the last happy hours I envision scheduling or possibly even attending for some time. It had a very nice turn out, and I learned two things:

1. Sawatdee has very good happy hour specials - $3 for most drinks and all appetizers are half off
2. Sawatdee has been struggling to fully pass its state health inspection, which a coworker kindly informed a friend and I as we ran into him after the happy hour. The poor friend eyed her takeout suspiciously while the coworker walked to his car oblivious.

Timing hasn't really changed, yet, and we're still waiting to hear whether the appointment on the 20th or 21st will happen. If it doesn't, then all dates could shift out again. We're hoping that doesn't happen. That's all we ask for Christmas, Santa, that all our dates work out and we're meeting our daughter the week of the 27th.

For Our Friends - Thanks

Last night we had our first adoption celebration, which is kind of like a baby shower, but no guess what's in the diaper games. 

Instead, we got to enjoy our friends, lots of great food, and start collecting kid basics like books and board games we can't wait to share with Rosie.  I'm going to compile the photos into an album for Rosie to show her most of the people who came together to celebrate her. 

Here are a few photos of all the wonderful people in our lives...all the wonderful people who supported us through the struggles of infertility into the joy we have now.   Of course, I didn't get shots of everyone either due to my less than stellar photo taking ability or people's general annoyance with having pictures taken. So if you're missing from below, you'll either be relieved or understand completely.

On a side note, there could be a new industry out there for adoption related cards, party ideas, etc.

Pre-Planning for New Years Resolutions

I am sure it's normal that all parents-to-be think of things their parents did they don't want to repeat. For me, for better or worse, I don't have that list. Not to sound all Salinger about it or anything, but my mom was practically a saint, she really was. My only real complaint is that she was probably a little too strict with me as a teenager--a 9 p.m. curfew until I was 17 was a bit much. Yet, an adult I think the boundaries were good. So, no, there was nothing about her parenting style I would change as I parent my own daughter. There was nothing crummy or phoney about her.  (ha, ha)

< = My Mom

In fact, she was motherly almost to her own detriment. So while I would love to be nearly as great a mom, what I will seek to change are my behaviors I don't want to pass on to my daughter.

As a result, I've put some thought into my New Years Resolution list cause I'm pretty sure as a mom I won't have time to think so much at least about myself if my mom taught me anything.

1. Be less critical of other women. All women are caddy. I would like my daughter not to think I am.
2. Gossip less.
3. Be more patient.
4. Continue to workout a minimum of three days a week.

So many firsts

There comes a time after 32 years of living I can say there aren't a lot of firsts. Especially since Mike and I have been together for 13 years, married for 9 of them, and have owned our own home for 8 of those.  Instead, meaningful firsts become trips to new and exotic places or the joy of seeing a friend/family member's new baby or even buying a new car.

Yet suddenly I've had all kinds of firsts lately.

First No. 1: Someone on the phone asked me what my daughter's last name was. I was so caught on someone else saying "your daughter" and not to my mom, that I couldn't concentrate on the question.

First No. 2: I was given presents for my daughter so really this is a first for her not for me or Mike.  This is a quilt and pillow case my aunt made for Rosie.

First No. 3: We learned today that Rosie's favorite color is pink. She loves being a princess and anything princess related. She's a girly girl. Poor Mike, being surrounded by women seems to be his lot in life, but I know he can get her interested in non girly things.  Odds are she probably hasn't been introduced to them much.

First No. 4: Today we learned today our daughter's middle name.

First No. 5: The other first I had today was rushing away from work to make an appointment with our social workers who eased my fear that something had changed.  I know leaving work for kid emergencies is common, and I imagine today is the first of a few sick days for us not spent being ill ourselves.

Lastly, but most excitedly, leaving work was worth the early wake-up tomorrow to make up the hours. At the agency, we learned we'll likely be meeting our daughter around December 27th, and we will likely celebrate New Years -- or at least part of it with Rosie! What a first on the first! Moxie couldn't be more excited.

Of course, just like everything else about this process, the dates are subject to change, but we are pretty optimistic and felt we were on the same pages with our social workers, finally.

Timing and smiles

Every time I look at my daughter's picture, I smile.

When I'll get to see that smile in person has yet to be determined. We're supposed to meet with her social worker and our social worker this week to figure out how the next steps will progress. Until then, I will keep my patience in check and remember that this is worth the wait. It really is.

Happy Thanksgiving, Rosie

Dear Rosie,

I haven't met you, yet, and you probably won't read this letter. Today is Thanksgiving 2010. This morning I completed my 6th Turkey Trot, which is a 3.1 mile run I participate in every Thanksgiving. As I ran, I noticed all the children running alongside their parents. I wonder if you'll want to run with me next year?

Then I came home, and Mike had cinnamon rolls baking. I cooked us some eggs. The dogs had their kongs, and now we're all relaxing watching the Thanksgiving Day Parade. Some years we are a little more rushed after my race because we host Thanksgiving dinner for my family. This year, though, we're going to celebrate Thanksgiving at Aunt Debbie's house.

My family is pretty small--this year there will be six of us. I can't wait to have turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing and gravy. What kind of food do you like to eat at Thanksgiving?  After all the turkey eating is done, we'll come home and might start putting up the Christmas decorations. Which reminds me, when we meet you we'll have to pick out an ornament for you. We have a tradition of getting special ornaments for the tree every year.

We're lucky. We get a second Thanksgiving on Saturday most years with Mike's family. This year we're having pizza, and we're also celebrating your Aunt Krista's birthday. I can't wait to introduce you to the entire Schulte family. They are almost double the size of my family, but you're such a smart girl you'll have all their names memorized in no time. I know everyone will love you.

So that's our Thanksgiving this year. We're a little sad to miss your 9th Thanksgiving and will wonder from time to time today what you're up to. But we can't wait to celebrate with you next year and for every year after that.

With much love and anticipation,
Your mom (and dad)

Mike & Amy

Thank you very much, thank you very much

If you haven't ever watched Albert Finney's Scrooge, you might have heard one of the songs in a car commercial last year. However, the true intent of the song is in complete contrast to a car commercial.(Thanks, Sis for making me think of youtube to get this video clip.)

The reason I post it here is also to thank everyone. I have been overwhelmed in a very good way with all the support friends, coworkers and old friends have given during this adoption.

It will all work out. So thanks. And Happy Thanksgiving!

A slight thud

Today we got an email outlining three more steps we need to complete before we can meet Rosie. FOUR MORE STEPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No, I'm not that exited.

Yep, I'm frustrated. Far too frustrated and slightly heart broken to reflect on anything right now.

Instead, I am going to log-off with parting advice from my mom who said "You have to fight for your kids."

Well, parting advice and a random thought. How excited am I that Thanksgiving is around the corner? Pretty darn excited considering that means I can start watching Christmas movies. (Waiting for Thanksgiving to be over to start my Christmas movie marathon is my own rule.) I'll begin with "Miracle on 34th Street" and end with "When Harry Met Sally," which isn't a Christmas movie, but ends at a New Years party. In the middle is Albert Finney's Scrooge. If you haven't seen it, you gotta.

The Domino Effect

Making room for a third person in our house is becoming a never-ending reorganization project. For example, today I needed to clean out Rosie's closet. It, too, had become storage space for us. So I took out a set of curlers and put it into the hall closet. Unfortunately, the hall closet had to be cleaned up and reorganized to make room for the curlers.

The same holds true of the many duffel bags, back packs and luggage that were once under Rosie's bed. They need to go into our bedroom closet somewhere. Suddenly the house I thought was just a perfect size is feeling a little small, and we're not even trying to accommodate all of Rosie's things yet.

However, if a family of 5 lived in this house, the three of us should be just fine. Right?

Adventure Here We Come

Holy cow, it's happened!

Today I woke up, went for my 5 a.m. run, came home and ordered prints of my daughter's picture. One 4x6 for my desk, another for Mike's and a 5x7 for our house.

And there is something I've never said before: my daughter.

Oh, I know we'll have our hands full and that there will be challenges, but right now I already know my daughter is beautiful, intelligent, caring and sensitive.

I can't wait to meet her. Not sure when that will be as we're working out the "transition" details. Our hope is to meet her on or around her upcoming birthday and have her move down here around Christmas or when she feels ready.

One of the many things yesterday's meeting taught us was that Rosie has won the affection of many people, and all of those people want to ensure she is safe and happy. How wonderful is that? How crazy would it be to ignore their advice or opinion? Even if in the end we decide something different. Something we feel is best for our daughter.

Oh what a wonderful pair of words "our daughter". :-)

Pictures

Today to calm my nerves I went for a run. You can tell I'm getting healthier because this photo was snapped post-run, and notice my face is not as red as a tomato.  I'm as pale as normal.  Mike's relaxing through his video game. Sorry, no pic of that.

I also seem to lack all humility as I am wearing all sorts of colors and materials that don't match. If there's one thing I remember my mom doing when I was upset as a teenager was her ability to make fun of herself--which I pretended to hate, but really loved. (Can you see Moxie's long snout?)

This was for you, you know who you are.

Hopefully, sooner than later I'll have MUCH CUTER photos to post here.

What's the first thing you'd tell your child about yourself?

One of the cooler parts of this adoption process is that if we agree to parent Rosie, her social worker will bring her a book we made about us just for her.

Rosie will get a day or two to look through the book, and then we get to meet her. So after 3 weeks of pouring over photos, we finally hammered out what we wanted to say and pictures we would want to include.

I created it through Shutterfly, which was far superior to Snapfish whose software kept killing on me or Kodak whose site was too confusing to bother.

Knowing this is Rosie's first impression of us made it a tricky project. I didn't want to over-promise how life would be, but I wanted to paint a picture that would make a child excited to meet us. I had to keep things pretty basic. I have a hard time writing in compound sentences. I tried to channel Ernest Hemingway. 

Hemingway wasn't capable of being cheesy like I felt we needed to be.  Thankfully, I'm good at being cheesy, but hopefully in an endearing or adorable way.

The book is being printed and should be shipped in time to give it to Rosie in a week from now. In 7 days from now, we could be meeting our daughter.

Crazy.

Things I am Looking Forward To

As the aroma of brewing coffee filled the house this morning I started to think about how much I'm looking forward to the ritual of Sunday breakfast with Rosie.

Last spring we bought a beautiful dining room table just for my dream ritual. Right now that table is the holding place for our junk mail. Once Rosie joins our life, I can't wait to have us sit at it as a family not only for dinners but also for Sunday breakfast.

My parents didn't have a ritual like this so I'm not sure why I want to try it. I can't wait, though, to start Sundays with Mike cooking bacon and Rosie and I whipping together pancake batter. Not sure why in my dreams I divide labor in that way. Odd. To make things less stereotypical we can all set the table. As we eat, we can discuss what our plans are for the day or week. 

From having enough friends with children I know best-laid plans sometimes prove impossible once kids get their own lives and schedules. So I'm not setting my heart on Sunday breakfast every Sunday--but maybe once or twice per month. Or maybe not, maybe we will say Sunday breakfast is important to us and avoid making plans that would interfere when possible.

And maybe on those days when my best-laid plans don't work, we will have a Sunday dinner instead---which reminds me, I need a new crock pot. My crock pot is the same one that my grandma used in the 1970s and maybe even '60s. It works, but I worry it will also work at starting my house on fire some day.

Other things I am looking forward to are:

1. Board game night
2. Going to the museums again and seeing them through a child's eyes
3. Seeing everything through a child's eyes--especially the holidays
4. Decorating for Christmas, baking for Christmas, and having Christmas traditions that include a child
5. I kind of hope, selfishly, she might become interested in running with me
6. Learning what rituals Rosie would like to make hers and, more importantly, ours.

What rituals does your family have? I'd like to consider them all.

Guess what else I know nothing about?

Education.

That's right. My mom raised me to value it. I completed 13 years primary/secondary. I even went on to finish my Bachelors in Sociology and Written Communications--although, to be fair, a bachelors degree seemed pretty much mandatory in this day and age. I didn't love education in those 17-plus years of memorizing, studying and worry about the future. I made education a priority because my mom wanted me to. Yep, I'd love to say that at 17 I was more wise. I wasn't.

I take that back. I was wise enough at 17 to know college was my way out of working at McDonald's permanently. I had nightmares about becoming a "lifer." I really did. Once I had a dream that I came into McDonald's to work and my manager informed me I hadn't passed the ACT, and I'd have to occupy a cot in the attic of McDonald's. I woke up screaming...my mom even remembers it. She also remembers me waking her up with dreams where I was screaming "Quarter Pounder with cheese NO ONION"...thank goodness those days are over.


Although, now my worry has changed its focal point.

Now I worry about a potential daughter and where she will go to school. I worry I will put her in the wrong school. I have become extremely, and I mean completely brutal in my analysis of school administrator's responses to my inquiries. Rude response? Eliminated. I can't have my daughter being treated that way.

As a sociology major at a private, liberal college, I also struggle with comparing schools in my neighborhood. The schools with the highest rates of poverty have the lowest test scores but the highest "diversity" scores. On the other hand, the schools with the lower poverty rates have the better test scores but the lowest diversity. Although I loathe diversity as a word, I value its concept. All I want is a school where my child can learn and receive the attention necessary to succeed--to fifth grade, anyway. I want her to feel like she belongs. But my upbringing and liberal college days make me feel snobby for dismissing the schools with poor test scores.


So I've guiltily abandoned public education temporarily because I learned that the City of Minneapolis doesn't give its parents a choice in where their children are placed mid-year. I've learned what I thought I would have control over, I don't.

You have to send your kid where ever there is room in a Minneapolis school within busing routes from your home. I hate to say, in our neighborhood, that's the poor test score schools where I fear our daughter wouldn't receive attention she needs because her needs would pale in comparison with her peers.

We have an interview with the principal of a private K-8 school just to see what that's about. It seems more in line with what we want: a somewhat sheltered environment where Rosie could grow and adjust and stay put for a few years. This kid will need some stability. If she hates it, next year we can evaluate public schools again. In fact, we need to continue our tours because we have send the district our placement cards no later than January 31 for the 2011 school year.

Yet, I have no idea about any of this and I've never felt less certain about anything except this strange feeling within me telling me what's right for a child I've never met. Crazy.

Surfing with my head under water

Just when I think I have stopped freaking out about one part of being a parent and am coasting, I get hit with another wave of fear. What is causing the fear today?

The few times I've mentioned to a coworker that "we're touring schools" I stop breathing for a split second. Then I can't stop smiling but not out of joy. Nope I it's just a grin of "i have no idea of what the heck I'm doing." 

Then I walk away from the encounter, I catch my breath, and I feel resolved by saying no parents know what they're doing. We'll be fine, I think. Then I push aside the thought of school all together even when I'm scheduling interviews to do tours.

So far I only have one set up. It's at Marcy Open School, in Northeast Minneapolis, and it was recommended to me by a parent. Parents seem to be my life saver right now--they know what kind of games 9-year-olds like; they have suggestions for schools; and they calm me down when my breath has caught in my throat, and I'm about to pass out.

THANK YOU parent friends because what I have learned is that school administrators are even busier than I am.  So they are of no help because they don't call back, they don't answer emails, and they don't answer the phones. The Marcy school's tour coordinator did--thank you, Sidney.

This might all seem premature, but the social workers continue to ask where we'll send Rosie for school so it's really necessary. I'm starting with public schools and will try private schools next.  The other stressor is that of course no school administrators can meet after work--which I completely understand, but a half day here and a half day there add up.

Short and Jubilant Post

November 17th is the next big day! The day we meet with foster parents, teachers, and therapists of Rosie. From there, we decide whether or not we want to parent her. Of course, we'll be making an impression on all these people as well. So they could, I suppose, decide we aren't a good fit.

So keep your fingers crossed...more to come.

Organizing and Planning for Real

Last weekend we spent four hours in Ikea getting a dresser. Why?

Because the dresser that matches our bed can't be hauled up the narrow and extremely steep steps to our room. Additionally, the floor in our half story seems to be sinking a little in one spot so I'm not certain adding an extremely heavy dresser is a good idea, even if you don't kill yourself getting it up there.

And because (ooh boy starting another sentence with two conjunctions...) we will give what was our dresser to Rosie if she moves in. So it's time to get all of our clothes out of her dresser, which sits in her room. We also need to stop using her room as a walk-in closet and storage space.

When we moved into this house eight years ago I remember thinking, we'll never fill this house with stuff. Now I can't imagine going any smaller. I think it's a prefect size for three people though.

Still no word on when we'll meet with Rosie's teachers and foster parents, but her social worker did confirm that she is working on setting up the appointment. I don't mind it taking a few weeks because it gives us more time for planning and organizing.

Now I'm off to compile the album they'd present to Rosie if/when she's told we are her parents.

One major hurdle cleared, one task complete, one task remains; advice requested

Today we were told Rosie's separation from her siblings is complete. We have also completed reading the case file.

Now on to our collaterals--aka the interviews with her current foster parents and therapists and ask them questions. Trust me, we have a few, but they are really just to help us figure out how we'd parent her. Of course, something shocking could be revealed.

There could be another step we aren't aware of.  Yet we're being optimistic and caution is ebbing away slightly.

I'm waiting to hear back from the Minneapolis school district and set up a meeting with them. Then we need to look at private schools and charter schools. Schools are really overwhelming to me currently.

I continue compiling the Amazon wish list, and had a couple of great links suggested to me for books by a friend. I'd love any advice on board games, playstation3 games, etc., that a 4th grader might like.

Also, any tips on how to fit in exercise about 4 days a week when parenting are also appreciated.

Joy

Quick note. Today I spent my lunch researching games, books, and other items for 4th grade girls--a task I've seen parents doing year after year. I never believed I would be one of them. Then I switched to emailing schools near us to begin setting up appointments. Again, it would have seemed inconceivable just years ago!

As Mike and I ate dinner and wondered what foods Rosie might like to eat, if she'll want to trick-or-treat next year, and what her favorite color is I felt joy. Joy because in the seven years leading up to this, I never really believed Mike and I would be having these conversations.

I also doubted that adopting a child would feel "as exciting" as what I had built pregnancy up to. Yet, it does. And as much as I can't get my hopes up yet, I do feel protective of this child whom I don't know, and I can't wait to nurture and raise her to her fullest potential.

The status of our adoption hasn't changed. Mike has a few more case files to read. Then we have to meet with Rosie's Foster parents, teachers, and then we can agree to parent her or decline. So cautious optimism should be the order of the day, but I'd say I'm really just full blown excited.

It's not really so much an "if" but a "when" all of a sudden

Today was the second appointment. The one where our social worker and Rosie's recruiter wanted to discuss last week's appointment with us. Today went really, really well. Our social worker said, and I quote: "this is the point where 'if' turns into more of a 'when'." Although, she then reassured us that we can still opt out at any time.

Good news...we passed last week's appointment! Rosie's slew of county and state assigned guardians loved us, down to my glasses. So now we sit home with the case file. We're reading a lot, discussing even more, but thus far, for the 1/4 of it we've read, nothing has made us change our minds even though it's saddened us, greatly.

Today the inner project manager in me was satisfied. I got a timeline, a tentative one dependant on a lot of bullshit red tape. Yet, assuming the remaining 3/4 of the case file continues to mimic what we've read--we could be meeting Rosie mid-December, and she would be moving in around Christmas...which is exactly what I didn't want, but I've learned to lose control completely.

I am not a control freak. I'm not. Yet not having a timeline has been challenging for me so this is a huge freaking relief. It makes it easier for us to plan out our work leave of absences and also give us a deadline for the work that needs to be done in the current guest room..more on that later.

So, what's next from a procedural perspective?

1. After we read the case file, we can decide if we want to move on to the interviews with the foster family and teachers.
2. If we interview with the foster family and teachers, we get to decide whether we want to parent Rosie.
3. That's really it, at least or so we think. You never know in this process.

A few more personal things we're starting to do:

1. Creating an album to give Rosie if after the interviews we decide to be her mom and dad
2. The great reorganization--getting all our clothes upstairs and out of her closet and dresser
3. Scheduling meetings with schools around the area to figure out where Rosie would go in January if she moves in with us.

So that's it. I know. It sounds as if I'm getting my hopes up, and I think at this point it's hard not to. Don't worry though, they're tethered to reality at least by one thin thread. If it doesn't pan out, it was our decision to not continue, which makes the 'no' a lot easier. I think.

It went REALLY well!!

So the interview started off shockingly, we thought we were going to be interviewed by 1 new person, and were instead meeting with 3 new people. Despite that, it went well, really well.

When we left we were told we're the only couple being considered for Rosie. In fact now, it's really our decision - do we want to parent Rosie after we learn more about her from her foster parents?

I'm not sure how long the next process will take--and we've learned better than to get too excited, but thus far there's nothing that would make us change our mind.

So, here's the newest pictures of Rosie being goofy:

And here she is being adorable:

Of course, there are a few panicked moments now that life could potentially change. Then I just look at her face and feel a little more relaxed.

It must be the nerves

Today's the day of our interview with Rosie's caseworker, which I said I wasn't going to get excited about. Yet, I woke up an hour before I would have had to so I must have lied. Either that or my 5 a.m. running class is starting to work it's way into my inner alarm clock.

With my extra hour I brewed some coffee and prepared a ginger pot roast for dinner tonight. While I typically hate cutting up vegetables or touching raw meat, today it felt almost relaxing. I had my iPod cranked so I was lost in my favorite music, my thoughts, and the sounds of potatoes being cut.

The pups must have realized today is a special day, too, because they were in the kitchen with me the entire time. Behavior typical of Moxie, but not Eddie. Eddie would much prefer to sleep. Yet, there they were beneath my feet, which didn't bother me like it can sometimes.

Now as I sit sipping coffee and listening to Elton John's "Someone Saved My Life Tonight" I kind feel like I do on holidays. The sun is just dawning, I've got something delicious cooking already, and the day holds nothing but anticipation. It's almost intoxicating. All my grumbles from the previous day seem like distant memories as I remember what's really important in my life: my family and my friends.

Speaking of music, there were a few that cycled into my playlist this morning that seem fitting for the day.

Michael Buble's "I just haven't met you, yet" - It's supposed to be a love song so the video so if you watch the video keep that in mind, but the lyrics really struck me perfectly expressing. Is it lame to admit I like Michael Buble? Don't get me wrong, I'll take Frank Sinatra, or any of the old school crooners first, but there's something a little dreamy about Michael.

I digress. Here are the lyrics:
I'm not surprised, not everything lasts
I've broken my heart so many times, I stopped keeping track

Talk myself in, I talk myself out
I get all worked up, then I let myself down
I tried so very hard not to lose it
I came up with a million excuses
I thought, I thought of every possibility

And I know someday that it'll all turn out
You'll make me work, so we can work to work it out
And I promise you, kid, that I give so much more than I get
I just haven't met you yet

I might have to wait, I'll never give up
I guess it's half timing, and the other half's luck
Wherever you are, whenever it's right
You'll come out of nowhere and into my life

And I know that we can be so amazing
And, baby, your love is gonna change me
And now I can see every possibility

And somehow I know that it'll all turn out
You'll make me work, so we can work to work it out
And I promise you, kid, I give so much more than I get
I just haven't met you yet

My college English professor would be disappointed I didn't unpack those lyrics and explain to you why they relate to me, but I have to shower so you'll have to connect the dots for yourselves.

Oh, the other song that came up this morning while I cooked was U2's Origin of the Species, which is probably my all time favorite song written by a rock start for his kids.  The video, which I'm watching for the first time is interesting and rather typical of the ham that is Bono (I love him...)--but don't let the abstract get to you, the lyrics and emotion are really what compel this song.

Interesting Post

I try to not vent too much. Yet, I thought this post was interesting.

http://www.danoah.com/2010/09/how-much-did-your-kid-cost.html

The 13th is coming soon - hopeful optimism reigns

Our interview with Rosie's county caseworker is on Wednesday, the 13th. Hopefully the number 13 will prove to be lucky for us.

People have asked if we're excited and seem a little shocked when I say we're not. However, the last interview we had was in July. We were excited then. We were excited until months passed and nothing happened. Sure, we hope it results in more interviews and a child., yet we need to protect ourselves from the let down of months of waiting for yet another layer of red tape to be removed.

It's really just a preventative measure for us. We will save excitement when we're through this interview, the next interview, and have decided to be the parent of this child.

Again I'm reminded of buying a house. If you're looking for a new house you don't walk into every single one excited that it will be yours. Often, it's not. You save your excitement for after you've viewed the house, and you've placed an offer.

Defining Normal

Yesterday at the Mall of America I was waiting to use the restroom behind a mom and her four-year-old son. The little boy must have been bored because he shoved his hand into his pants, pulled his penis out and proceded to play with it for a few seconds before putting it back in his pants.

Normal? Nope.

I looked at the mom, who was oblivious to her son's, um playing, because she was engrossed in conversation with another mom. The boy proceeded to repeat the above situation a few times. I tried to keep my eyes away, but it was kind of like a car crash. I don't want to look, but I couldn't help it, and I really wanted to to see how long it would take for his mom to notice the behavior.

I wasn't the only one, a few other women were chuckling in line.

She never did. He did notice me looking. So I tried to look away, but out of the corner of my eye I noticed his smiling at me as he pulled it back out and started to play with it while smiling at me. I decided I could hold it and left the bathroom.

This creepy little story brings me to my newest thought on adoption and parenting. As we approach our second interview about Rosie, I've started thinking about what is "normal" for us. How if we were adopting a baby we could define "normal" routines as parents with the baby being unaware of changes. Routines like housecleaning Saturday morning, having Sunday breakfast, etc., that right now we don't really adhere to because it's just us.

With a 9-year-old or any older child, I think we'll obviously incorporate some of her feedback into these plans. Yet, not too much because in my mind, it will be my job to provide structure, and what kid really wants to clean the house?

So what happens if the routines intended to make people feel "normal" don't work out as planned. If we keep having to change them, a 9-year-old would notice. Change is normal, but will our tweaks communicate weakness to a child who really needs strength? I wonder, but I'm not worried. I'm too easy going to ever raise a child who frets over mom not being type a.

How do parents do it?

Maybe it was the cold Tuesday night air that caused Mike and I to both be sick with colds this weekend. If it was, I can let it go--after all, the Twins won and are onto round 1 of the playoffs. Here we are healthy and elated over the win.

Yet, as he and I have suffered through these colds today I couldn't help but wonder how parents handle having kids when they're sick? I remember my mom being sick but most times she just plowed through it. How? When you become a parent are you instilled with a fierceness you didn't have before?

I hope I get one because the 3 hour nap I had today seemed impossible to give up when my throat is raw, head is pounding, and energy is non-existent. So to parents out there--tell me how you do it...

Our Calendars Are Marked: October 13th

Mystic Warning: I think this blog is truly good luck. After my last post I got an email from Rosie's social worker. Rosie's case worker wants to meet with us. It's set for October 13th.

We are the only couple being interviewed, but they are accepting other home studies so a few other couples could join the fray. Or not. Who knows?

Either way, this is great news.

The kid/change paradox: I had an interesting conversation, a conversation that seems to repeat with all friends who are contemplating having kids. It revolves around losing some personal freedoms once kids enter the picture, and I had a thought: even if you're not the one having kids, your life changes when all your friends' lives do.

It's true, having children does put a bit of a limitation on the Friday night dinners out, the last minute trips, happy hours, and the ability to finish "one more thing" at work and getting home closer to 7 than 6.

At the same time, if you are without kids when all your friends are parents your life has to change, too. Those friends can't join you on Friday dinners or last minute trips any more.  It's the way it should be, yet, you have to adjust, and change, too.

No matter what, at certain stages in life everyone has to experience change. I guess it's really about whether you want to be the one starting the chain of change or if you want to be the one adjusting to it.

Quick Updates - No News About Children

Sorry I've been quiet. We haven't heard anything on Rosie or any other child, and we have to renew our FBI checks in the next week to retain our Foster Care license. I did ask our social worker if there was any news about Rosie, and she basically said no. She ignored my question about other potential children. My attitude is pretty good about it. I had my sulky week. I got over it.

Quick Updates on a Few Things:
I'm still thinking through the race for my sister--the how, what, when, and where. From talking with a few people I hear getting the non profit tax exempt status will be the most time consuming and costly part. So my task to complete by the end of next week is to find a pro bono lawyer who can help me.

Speaking of running, I've got my groove back. I'll be joining a cardio running class (picture a spin class but with treadmills). The class meets Tuesdays and Thursdays at 5 a.m.--crazy, yes. Yet, it sort of suits me. I like extremes a little. We'll see how long I can take it. I'm hoping to get to January uninjured and ready to run Securian's frozen half marathon.

Amy the North Minneapolis Explorer

When I was a kid, my favorite activity was taking long bike rides through our neighborhood. I loved to explore and feel like I was the first person to turn a corner and discover that little pond or playground.

Today, fueled by a conversation at the local dog park, I decided if I'm going to raise kids in this neighborhood, I should start exploring it. So as soon as Mike left for his fantasy football draft I hopped on my bike and explored.  I wish I'd brought a camera.

First I found what I think has to be the largest beaver dam on the Northside. It's right where the Humboldt Greenway Path comes to an end, just after you cross a footbridge into Brooklyn Center. I think I saw one of the beaver kids scramble up a tree. Initially I thought it was a large, really fuzzy squirrel.

Then, headed toward the North Mississppi Park. On my way there, I learned there is a cricket field where a very large group of Indian men gather to play. The bright green and yellow clothes they wore were stunning.  For a second I thought I might be in Ireland again.

The North Mississippi Regional trails weren't as awesome by comparison. There was a very short part of the path near the river and surrounded by wetlands, which I enjoyed. Then you pass a fantastic splash pool complete with water falls and picnic area, and from there the trail just gets further away from the soothing sounds of the Mississippi and much closer the roar of the freeway. I could have kept going--it might have gotten better, but I was pretty tired.

I was going to end my journey at Victory 44 but was more in the mood for Panera so now I'm home cooling off before eating and meandering out to get a med. veggie sandwich accompanied by black bean soup. Tonight will be less healthy, steak, guacamole, yum!

All-in-all, I think it is a pretty nice neighborhood to explore. Acceptable for any new explorer who joins our family.

This one's dedicated to the ones I love

Today I celebrate two good friend's dreams coming true: a wedding and a baby!

The baby was born yesterday to my college friend, Brooke and her husband Steve. Congrats to you both! I can't wait to meet her and visit you.

The wedding is a friend who I know will look just gorgeous--can't wait to see her shoes--and whose day will be perfect.

So today I hope everyone has a joyful event (or two) to fill their weekend. Even if the joyful event is a trip to the State Fair, a cabin, or puttering around your garden.

Love,
Amy

Alone Time

Today I had a gorgeous bike ride to the gym (quick 6 miles one way). The alone time, wind in my face, and warm sun soaking into my skin helped improve my attitude. After an hour of strength training I was able to enjoy the freedom one more time today. I forgot how freeing bike riding is. It feels a bit like being a kid all over again.

This week as Mike heads out of town for a business trip, I think I will savor my alone time and look for these little forgotten childhood pleasures. Anyone gotta a sandbox, shovels, and some stolen Tupper Ware perfect for castle making?

And for cheesy fun, pictures of a younger Amy:

I'm 3, with my first childhood friend. We are sitting on a standard dining room chair.

Even at 4, I was a total dork. :-)

Pride, Pity, and Powerless Plans

My Grandma had a embroidered saying on her bedroom wall when I was growing up. I don't remember the saying, exactly. I do know it was from the Bible, and the gist of it was to not let things you can't control get to you--know that God is there guiding for you. Come to think of it, maybe that wasn't a saying on Grandma's wall but something my Aunt had. Or maybe I remember it from some movie.

Anyway, it means have faith. This week has been a tough week for faith-keeping for me. We got the following email from Rosie's social worker in response to an email I sent her.

From Rosie's Social Worker: "Thanks for the update. Just to let you know, we are at a bit of a stand still on the case with Rosie. We are submitting paperwork for a sibling separation to the state. However, the state doesn’t want us to move forward with any steps until they have approved the separation (I don’t know if we are going to follow this or not). I just wanted to give you an update and know that we have not forgotten about your and Mike!"

Hmm, so what can I control? Obviously not the state, or the inexplicable system that makes it impossible to help these children quickly despite its best intentions. I can control how excited I get--but only a little. I can try to not start imagining our life with these children so quickly. Mike's a little wiser about that.

Last night I remarked that I was just having a pity party for myself. I don't care to ask my social worker about more children right now. I don't want to be excited any more. To quote Simon and Garfunkel, I want to be a rock, I want to be an island because "a rock feels no pain and an island never cries." Really, though, I just want a child. I passed a news stand, and saw an article about some family who have 19 kids and "are excited for more" and nearly threw a small fit of anger right there. I imagined the magazines flying like butterflies through the air as I screamed "I just want ONE!!!"

It would have been hard to update my blog from jail though. And, as I write, I realize what good is a pity blog? As an American with a significant amount of Irish/German pride, I hate pity as much as I hate asking for help, which is why I write--to see perspective.

Here's some more pleasant perspective:
I am lucky in so many other ways--in my job, my family, my health.
If we don't get to have kids there are so many other things to look forward to. 
Like enjoying our patio on warm, summer nights.
Trips to places around the world.
It'll be a lot easier to plan the 5k for my sister without a child.
I can bestow so much love and affection to my friend's children.

Yee haw!
It is funny how life works out, though. When I was 16, I thought my life right now would be spent living on a farm, with my 3 to 4 little red heads and husband. We'd farm most of the land ourselves, and in our free time we'd pile into our pick-up truck to deliver my baked goods to friends and neighbors.  I'd write in my free time. Are you laughing? If you aren't, you probably haven't seen my inner city home and affinity for patent leather heels. Or how taking my dogs on a walk through Theo Wirth Parkway is about all the nature I need most of the time.

I've always been a girl with a 5-year, 10-year, and even 30-year plan. So now I think some of issues stem from the fact that I can't envision what life will be like. I have no control what the next month will even hold. So I will just keep filling it with plans involving friends, family and joys that help me rebuild my faith bit by bit. Things that focus on the positive.

This weekend, a camping trip had to be put on hold because the 90 degree heat would have been too much for our dogs. So I think I'll head to the tattoo parlour. I am going to get my grandma's wedding band pattern tattoed on my upper right shoulder. Kind of like this: http://tattoos-and-art.com/wp-content/gallery/henna-tattoos/3rd_sitting_shoulder_tattoo_041_large.jpg

Silliness wanted - and please hurry

Today I think I saw one factor of many that adds to my anxiety over this adoption process taking so long. Mike and I were at a work picnic, and true to form, Mike was a kid magnet. When the water balloon fight started he had just as much fun as the kids. They loved playing with him, too, or so it seemed from how wet his shirt was.

It's moments like this I can't wait for that to be a daily occurrence in our household--not the water balloon fight, specifically. Just the sight of my husband and our child enjoying each other's company and being silly. As two adults with no children, silly just doesn't happen enough.

On a side note, how it is that I seem to repel kids while Mike doesn't baffles me a little. I mean, stereotypically, I am the female who should be the magnet. He also casts the same spell on animals. I don't really let it get to me though. I'm more reserved and a slower warmer upper while his inner child is not as reluctant to make a visit. It's one of the things I love most about him.

Oh, and no news from any social worker since the last post.

A little assurance goes a long way

I emailed Rosie's and our social worker to see how things are going, and I got the following response, which helped me feel more hopeful in the wait and reassured:

Rosie's Social Worker: "The time it takes to move forward really depends on location and workload of the county worker and other care providers (therapists, foster parents, GAL). I have forwarded on your study to the county worker with some information regarding our meeting together. She thought that you guys sounded great; she and I are currently working on the logistics of the next steps. I am in an extended meeting for much of the day today, but am hoping to get a chance to talk with her. Just so you are aware; in the case that the two of you were not selected for a collateral meeting, you would be notified (at least that’s how I operateJ!) Thanks for your patience and hopefully I’ll get back to you in the next couple of days!"

The dreaded two-week wait filled with paving blocks, sod, and bulldozers

Those how have tried to have a child might be familiar with the two-week wait. For those who aren't familiar, I'll explain it briefly: When trying to conceive a baby there are two weeks between ovulation and when a mom-to-be can take a pregnancy test. It can be torture.

Waiting for a social worker to let us know if we have an interview with a case worker is just as annoying. You can't control any part of it, you're still waiting to find out if your life could change, and you're exhausted from thinking about it.

So...as a partial distraction, we decided to upgrade our backyard. There are so many things to distract yourself with when landscaping.

The following is what we needed to improve--the picture doesn't really capture its chaos. There was no grass--only weeds, the retaining wall was falling apart, the rose bush was too large and no matter how much I tried, it would spill onto the tiny, cracking sidewalk. To be fair, the rose bush came with the yard. Next to Moxie was a stack of retaining wall block we bought in a failed attempt to stop the weed growth between the retaining wall and our neighbor's fence (don't ask...)

Our steps to backyard salvation and a rest from adoption thoughts:

1. Select a landscaper. We went with McDonough Lanscaping and were very pleased with our choice.

2. Receive a design from the landscaper. This was ours, and I fell in love with it:

3. Sign the contracts and start selecting the materials. These were some of the samples we looked at. It was really hard to envision how they would look as a patio and wall. So we choose them, took a deep breath, and watched while...

4. Our yard was torn down in one day--when I saw it I had a mini panic attack. I was home sick when it happened, and the reverberations from the wall coming down shook the entire house:

5. Watch as everything progresses for the next 6 days:

Notice the wall to the right and two distinct levels beginning to appear:

The sidewalk, patio, retaining walls are in!!

And then finally, the sod, and one happy collie:

Now we just need to add some furniture and pick a day for our BBQ.

Side-by-side comparison