The one thing we've found to be absolutely certain in this foster/adopt journey is that absolutely nothing is certain. Including our stance on some issues.
Not too long ago, O and I came to the conclusion that we could no longer put our lives on hold to wait for Amy to decide if she wanted us to raise her son Chris. We adored him but didn't have a good feeling that Amy was going to follow through with what she'd said she wanted to do.
That situation has changed, of course. Amy told social services about us. It now remains to be seen if they'll follow through on her wishes. Or if the judge will ever find out about Amy's wishes and rule on them. Or whether Chris is adopted in-state and never seen by any of us again.
But there is a wrinkle to all this - one that I haven't shared on this blog. Along with beautiful little Chris, there is another baby - one to be born in the coming months - one that Amy has said she wants us to raise. With that situation come the same basic concerns, of course. Will she follow through? Or will she change her mind? We just have no idea.
So we're at another crossroads.
Do we wait and see what the state has to say about us raising Chris? And do we wait and see what happens with the baby?
Or do we accept foster placements and resume actively looking for a child to adopt, both in our state and around the country? It really is an either/or proposition.
If we accept a foster placement of one child and we are chosen for Chris, we will not be able to travel back and forth across state lines to do the necessary visits with him that will be required by social services. Not without a judge's order for every single trip.
If we accept a foster placement of two children, our home is full. If we are chosen for Chris, either we will have to have foster kids moved from our home (which we don't ever want to do) or we will have to tell the other state "no", walking away from a child who has already stolen our hearts.
If we decide to look outside of our state for a child to adopt and have our home study sent to another state, our state will not release our home study to any other state for three months (or until the first state decides whether we are a fit for their particular child). So if we are interested in a child in Minnesota, request our home study be sent, and then hear from Chris' state that we can adopt him, we could not have our home study sent to Chris' state until Minnesota "releases it" - up to three months. If that were the case, we would lose out on our opportunity to be Chris' mom and dad.
So the crossroads we are at is simply this:
Do we walk away from the possibility, however slight it may be, of being Chris' or his infant siblings' parents and throw ourselves totally into our search elsewhere?
Do we accept a foster placement, knowing that it's likely the child will either be returned to his family or that we'll be in for literally years of waiting and wondering if they will be able to join our family permanently?
Or do we sit tight and see what these long, hot summer months hold in store for us?
That was a decision we were faced with yesterday when we were offered two separate foster placements. Neither seemed like it would end in adoption, but of course, who knows?? So before O called the SW back, we sat at the kitchen table and asked, "Are we in or are we out?" re: the situation(s) with Amy.
And the answer is that we're in.
We are going to hold off on foster placements and on searching for kids who are available for adoption until we return from our annual trip in October. We will know by then how things have played out both with Chris and the baby. Yes, it might be foolish to put our lives on hold for another 3.5 months and in the end we may be left heartbroken. But you know what?
Chris is worth that risk - so is his sibling - and so is Amy, for that matter.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
Non-Answer
Nothing happened as a result of the court hearing. A big fat nothing.
Up next is waiting to see if the adoption worker will change her mind about Chris being placed with us, based on a report the SW submitted about our already-existing relationship with him.
Maybe next week?
If not, the next court hearing is scheduled for about a month from now.
On the bright side, at least we know. At least we won't sit here waiting for the phone to ring. And at least I won't have to carry my cell phone around in my bra for the next five hours so I don't miss it ringing. I can go out into the world.
Maybe my first stop should be to the cell phone store to buy a case for my cell phone so it no longer must reside in my bra.
Up next is waiting to see if the adoption worker will change her mind about Chris being placed with us, based on a report the SW submitted about our already-existing relationship with him.
Maybe next week?
If not, the next court hearing is scheduled for about a month from now.
On the bright side, at least we know. At least we won't sit here waiting for the phone to ring. And at least I won't have to carry my cell phone around in my bra for the next five hours so I don't miss it ringing. I can go out into the world.
Maybe my first stop should be to the cell phone store to buy a case for my cell phone so it no longer must reside in my bra.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Not Today
Most days I can take the waiting.
Waiting for the phone to ring.
Waiting for a SW to get back to us.
Waiting to see if our e-mails get a response.
Waiting to find out what’s going on with a case.
Waiting to see what a judge rules.
Waiting to see if we are ever, ever going to be parents.
Not today. I just don’t have it in me. I feel like my head is going to explode.
O is calmer than I am, but his stomach is in knots too.
We have to get out of this house, so my wonderful husband is playing a little bit of hooky from work and we are taking our dog to the park.
Perhaps heat stroke will take my mind off of things.
Waiting for the phone to ring.
Waiting for a SW to get back to us.
Waiting to see if our e-mails get a response.
Waiting to find out what’s going on with a case.
Waiting to see what a judge rules.
Waiting to see if we are ever, ever going to be parents.
Not today. I just don’t have it in me. I feel like my head is going to explode.
O is calmer than I am, but his stomach is in knots too.
We have to get out of this house, so my wonderful husband is playing a little bit of hooky from work and we are taking our dog to the park.
Perhaps heat stroke will take my mind off of things.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Historically, when I’ve prayed about us adopting, I’ve simply asked for our child to find his or her way to us, whenever and however that is supposed to happen. All in God’s time, after all. Today I guess I didn’t have it in me to do that. As I was sitting in the parking lot of my allergist's office, waiting to be able to leave after my allergy shot, I closed my eyes and prayed.
Dear God,
I want to raise this beautiful little boy.
I want to watch O show him how to throw a football.
I want to dye Easter eggs with him for the Easter Bunny to hide.
I want to see his crazy curly hair radiating around his head like a halo every morning.
I want to teach him his ABC’s.
I want to meet his first girlfriend.
I want to cry when we send him off to kindergarten. And college.
I want to comfort him when he has a bad dream.
I want to roll my eyes and sigh when he’s fingerpainted my fridge with pudding. Again.
I want to send him into our backyard to run off some of his energy with our sweet dog Jackson.
I want to blow bubbles with him.
I want to make him giggle with delight.
I want to see him crawl up in O’s lap to watch TV.
I want to shudder at the cost of the shoes for his xx-wide feet.
I want to hear him read his first book.
I want to go to his ball games, or his concerts, or his plays.
I want to toss him into the tub after a long, dirty day of playing on the farm.
I want to teach him to drive. Well, maybe O will have to do that.
I want to wash his clothes and make his food and listen to his chatter.
I want to kiss his owies and make everything okay for him for as long as I can.
I want to hear what he sounds like when he sings.
I want to look into his face and marvel that he’s ours.
I want to make him lunches that he’ll trade for candy and rocks in the lunchroom.
I want to take him to the ocean and watch him bob in the waves.
I want to make sure he knows how much his birthmom loves him.
I want to be his mom.
I don’t know if any of these dreams about Chris will come true. It’s not looking good at this point. But I'm praying they do. I'm praying so hard.
Dear God,
I want to raise this beautiful little boy.
I want to watch O show him how to throw a football.
I want to dye Easter eggs with him for the Easter Bunny to hide.
I want to see his crazy curly hair radiating around his head like a halo every morning.
I want to teach him his ABC’s.
I want to meet his first girlfriend.
I want to cry when we send him off to kindergarten. And college.
I want to comfort him when he has a bad dream.
I want to roll my eyes and sigh when he’s fingerpainted my fridge with pudding. Again.
I want to send him into our backyard to run off some of his energy with our sweet dog Jackson.
I want to blow bubbles with him.
I want to make him giggle with delight.
I want to see him crawl up in O’s lap to watch TV.
I want to shudder at the cost of the shoes for his xx-wide feet.
I want to hear him read his first book.
I want to go to his ball games, or his concerts, or his plays.
I want to toss him into the tub after a long, dirty day of playing on the farm.
I want to teach him to drive. Well, maybe O will have to do that.
I want to wash his clothes and make his food and listen to his chatter.
I want to kiss his owies and make everything okay for him for as long as I can.
I want to hear what he sounds like when he sings.
I want to look into his face and marvel that he’s ours.
I want to make him lunches that he’ll trade for candy and rocks in the lunchroom.
I want to take him to the ocean and watch him bob in the waves.
I want to make sure he knows how much his birthmom loves him.
I want to be his mom.
I don’t know if any of these dreams about Chris will come true. It’s not looking good at this point. But I'm praying they do. I'm praying so hard.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Beware of AFV
I woke up early this morning and lay in bed watching O sleep for a while. I thought about yesterday’s craziness wondering what today would bring. I closed my eyes, running through the faces of all the children we’d thought were going to be our children over the past three years. Such beautiful little faces.
When O woke up, we laid in bed as we almost always do, watching a few minutes of news, some sports, and a little bit of “America’s Funniest Home Videos.” It’s good to start the morning laughing.
I was so content in that moment, snuggled up with O in our nice warm bed. Then AFV played a series of videos of parents surprising their kids with trips to Disneyland/world. The last little girl was probably eight, and when she realized where they were going, she had a laughing, crying breakdown. She was just so dear. And I started crying, just enough for the headache I’ve been keeping at bay for the last 24 hours to return.
I am so weary in this journey.
But loves always hopes and because I love our child – a child I may never have met – may never meet – I continue to hope. It’s the only thing that keeps me going.
So today I will keep the Tylenol and the phone close and hope with all my heart that one day soon I can sit down at this desk and write these words:
“Chris is ours.”
When O woke up, we laid in bed as we almost always do, watching a few minutes of news, some sports, and a little bit of “America’s Funniest Home Videos.” It’s good to start the morning laughing.
I was so content in that moment, snuggled up with O in our nice warm bed. Then AFV played a series of videos of parents surprising their kids with trips to Disneyland/world. The last little girl was probably eight, and when she realized where they were going, she had a laughing, crying breakdown. She was just so dear. And I started crying, just enough for the headache I’ve been keeping at bay for the last 24 hours to return.
I am so weary in this journey.
But loves always hopes and because I love our child – a child I may never have met – may never meet – I continue to hope. It’s the only thing that keeps me going.
So today I will keep the Tylenol and the phone close and hope with all my heart that one day soon I can sit down at this desk and write these words:
“Chris is ours.”
Monday, June 21, 2010
Whiplash
Amy decided that she wanted O and I to raise her son Chris. She was ready to go in and sign the papers relinquishing her rights to D**CFS this morning, with the understanding that we would be adopting him. The social worker was on board, just clearing up a few details about who needed to be present for signing the paperwork.
You can imagine when I found out this morning that this was actually happening, I was walking on air. O was walking on air. We were grateful and humbled and feeling so blessed.
For exactly one hour.
I called one of my dearest girlfriends, Karen, and told her the news. She was cautiously thrilled for us, knowing that NOTHING is for sure when it comes to the foster system, having been a foster mom herself.
I told her that we were keeping perspective but that we were choosing to be excited for the moment, expecting a curve ball to come flying in at any point.
*cue ringing phone*
Literally.
When the SW spoke with the county’s adoption worker, she said they wouldn’t be able to place Chris with us because since he is under the age of three, he is still considered an infant and would be easy to place. Therefore he should go into their database and be adopted in-state.
Please keep in mind that both her SW and HER supervisor have been begging Amy to think of someone to place him with. Begging. There was no qualifier stating that it had to be someone in-state. I would have thought they’d be happy to be presented with a home studied and approved foster and adoptive home – one where the people already have a relationship with Chris and Amy. Apparently not.
Amy is livid and heartbroken, knowing that there is a distinct possibility that she may lose her son and never see him again.
The SW is livid and working hard to get this mess sorted out. (The first step is to establish that O and I have a relationship with Chris, which we do.)
O and I are feeling a familiar sense of déjà vu where we get so close to our dream we can almost, almost touch it, and a curveball comes from nowhere and smacks us in the head.
There is still hope. The SW may be able to establish our relationship with Chris to the adoption worker’s satisfaction. Also, there is a court hearing later this week and if Amy gets up there, stands her ground, and says, “They asked me to find someone I knew to place my son with. THAT is what I did and THAT is where I want him placed” the judge may simply rule for that to happen. There is also the possibility of some new turn of events that we couldn’t even foresee – one that is good for our “team”.
But for now, all we can do is to wait for the phone to ring. In the meantime I’ll go take some tyl*enol for this pounding headache. And maybe turn the ceiling fan on and take a nap. Those curveballs hurt sometimes.
What a crappy, crappy day to have re-started Weigh&t Watch$ers.
You can imagine when I found out this morning that this was actually happening, I was walking on air. O was walking on air. We were grateful and humbled and feeling so blessed.
For exactly one hour.
I called one of my dearest girlfriends, Karen, and told her the news. She was cautiously thrilled for us, knowing that NOTHING is for sure when it comes to the foster system, having been a foster mom herself.
I told her that we were keeping perspective but that we were choosing to be excited for the moment, expecting a curve ball to come flying in at any point.
*cue ringing phone*
Literally.
When the SW spoke with the county’s adoption worker, she said they wouldn’t be able to place Chris with us because since he is under the age of three, he is still considered an infant and would be easy to place. Therefore he should go into their database and be adopted in-state.
Please keep in mind that both her SW and HER supervisor have been begging Amy to think of someone to place him with. Begging. There was no qualifier stating that it had to be someone in-state. I would have thought they’d be happy to be presented with a home studied and approved foster and adoptive home – one where the people already have a relationship with Chris and Amy. Apparently not.
Amy is livid and heartbroken, knowing that there is a distinct possibility that she may lose her son and never see him again.
The SW is livid and working hard to get this mess sorted out. (The first step is to establish that O and I have a relationship with Chris, which we do.)
O and I are feeling a familiar sense of déjà vu where we get so close to our dream we can almost, almost touch it, and a curveball comes from nowhere and smacks us in the head.
There is still hope. The SW may be able to establish our relationship with Chris to the adoption worker’s satisfaction. Also, there is a court hearing later this week and if Amy gets up there, stands her ground, and says, “They asked me to find someone I knew to place my son with. THAT is what I did and THAT is where I want him placed” the judge may simply rule for that to happen. There is also the possibility of some new turn of events that we couldn’t even foresee – one that is good for our “team”.
But for now, all we can do is to wait for the phone to ring. In the meantime I’ll go take some tyl*enol for this pounding headache. And maybe turn the ceiling fan on and take a nap. Those curveballs hurt sometimes.
What a crappy, crappy day to have re-started Weigh&t Watch$ers.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
H-96
Today is brought to you by the letter H and the number 96.
H is for renewed HOPE.
H is for HOLY COW I can’t believe how quickly things can change.
H is for HOW MUCH I wish I could say more.
H is for HERE’S HOPING I haven’t jinxed it by saying this much.
H is for the HUNDREDS of prayers I’m going to say over the next few days.
H is for HOW HIGH I’m going to jump every time the phone rings.
H is for how HAPPY we are tonight – cautiously optimistic – but HAPPY.
96 is the number of hours it may be before we know something. I like the number 24 so much better. Don't you?!?!
H is for renewed HOPE.
H is for HOLY COW I can’t believe how quickly things can change.
H is for HOW MUCH I wish I could say more.
H is for HERE’S HOPING I haven’t jinxed it by saying this much.
H is for the HUNDREDS of prayers I’m going to say over the next few days.
H is for HOW HIGH I’m going to jump every time the phone rings.
H is for how HAPPY we are tonight – cautiously optimistic – but HAPPY.
96 is the number of hours it may be before we know something. I like the number 24 so much better. Don't you?!?!
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Quick as a Flash
We got a call this morning from D**H**R - they were doing a pick-up on two little ones and were looking for what would probably be a long-term placement.
Did we want them?
O and I discussed everything he'd been told about them and about the situation, and we were on board - half excited and half wondering what we were getting ourselves into.
O called the worker to say "yes" and hurried to finish up his work so he could come home and quickly re-construct the crib, which we'd taken down when we thought Mark was moving in.
I ran to Walmar%t for a few things we'd need and wondered if this was my last trip to the store as a child-less (childfree?) woman.
Well, no.
The worker called back and said they didn't do a pick up on the babies.
Strangely enough, I was okay with it. My first thought was, "Then these are not our babies." She reserved the right to call us back when and if something changes with them. I told her we'd appreciate that and thanked her for keeping us in mind.
So that's that, I suppose.
This did solidify someting for us, though. We've been in a self-imposed limbo of sorts, waiting for Amy to follow through on what she told us she'd do - namely tell her SW that she wanted her son Chris placed with us. She's not going to do that - at least as far as I can tell. She truly believes she will be able to keep him. Don't ask me how. Anyway, we'd decided to hold off on pursuing any other placements to give Ashley time to make her choice. We are no longer doing that. If it works out that we are able to adopt and raise Chris, that would be so, so wonderful. But we are back in the "game" and actively looking for other children to love.
We did find out what happened at Mark's court hearing, by the way, and not because the SW called us back. Our favorite worker called and told us that NOTHING happened - that it was continued until later in the summer. Lots of other details that I can't reveal, but that's the jist of it.
So welcome to our world - it crazy and frustrating and exciting and you know what? I'm glad that I'm living it. At the very least, it's rarely boring.
Did we want them?
O and I discussed everything he'd been told about them and about the situation, and we were on board - half excited and half wondering what we were getting ourselves into.
O called the worker to say "yes" and hurried to finish up his work so he could come home and quickly re-construct the crib, which we'd taken down when we thought Mark was moving in.
I ran to Walmar%t for a few things we'd need and wondered if this was my last trip to the store as a child-less (childfree?) woman.
Well, no.
The worker called back and said they didn't do a pick up on the babies.
Strangely enough, I was okay with it. My first thought was, "Then these are not our babies." She reserved the right to call us back when and if something changes with them. I told her we'd appreciate that and thanked her for keeping us in mind.
So that's that, I suppose.
This did solidify someting for us, though. We've been in a self-imposed limbo of sorts, waiting for Amy to follow through on what she told us she'd do - namely tell her SW that she wanted her son Chris placed with us. She's not going to do that - at least as far as I can tell. She truly believes she will be able to keep him. Don't ask me how. Anyway, we'd decided to hold off on pursuing any other placements to give Ashley time to make her choice. We are no longer doing that. If it works out that we are able to adopt and raise Chris, that would be so, so wonderful. But we are back in the "game" and actively looking for other children to love.
We did find out what happened at Mark's court hearing, by the way, and not because the SW called us back. Our favorite worker called and told us that NOTHING happened - that it was continued until later in the summer. Lots of other details that I can't reveal, but that's the jist of it.
So welcome to our world - it crazy and frustrating and exciting and you know what? I'm glad that I'm living it. At the very least, it's rarely boring.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Flashback
Remember when you were in the knee-deep in the dating world and waiting for that one boy to call? You know, that boy who was THE BOY and was surely your destiny and the key to all your future happiness and joy? The one who didn’t seem to be able to actually pick up the phone and dial your number.
Mine, circa 1995, went a little something like this:
7 a.m. “Aaaah – a brand new day! THIS is the day he’s going to call. I KNOW it!”
7:05 a.m. Glance at the phone to make sure it wasn’t somehow knocked off the hook during the night. Somehow. Just in case.
7:24 a.m. “Was that the phone???”
8:15 a.m. – 8:19 a.m. Race quickly in and out of the shower - he might be feeling chatty this morning and you'd hate to miss the call.
9:03 a.m. Begin the “call, call, call, call, call, call” chant in your head.
9:11 a.m. Pick up the phone to make sure there is a dial tone. After all, there could have been some sort of car/telephone pole altercation, knocking out phone service to the entire metro area. Or a solar flare.
10:43:57 a.m. “Call, call, call, call.”
10:53 a.m. Leave the house for a perfectly lovely, breezy, enjoyable day which will include NO THOUGHTS of whether your phone is ringing at the VERY MOMENT.
10:54 a.m. Run back inside to make sure you’ve turned on the answering machine.
10:57 a.m. Call the answering machine to make sure it will pick up.
11:07 a.m. Call the answering machine to check for messages.
11:07:36 a.m. Curse because you can’t remember the code to retrieve messages from the answering machine.
11:07:49 a.m. Dig through your purse for the answering machine code written on the back of a receipt from the Espirit store.
11:08:11 a.m. No messages yet.
11:45 a.m. Still no messages. Maybe he is one of those people who doesn’t like to leave messages! There is a good possibility that he’s called and just didn’t leave a message.
11:45:18 a.m. Remind self to check new-fangeled caller ID gizmo when you get home.
11:45:20 a.m. Think how rarely you actually USE the word “new-fangeled”.
11:45:22 a.m. “OMG!!! Did I even plug in the new-fangeled caller ID gizmo?”
12:06 p.m. “I’m totally not stopping by the house to check the caller ID – I just really need to change shoes! I really do.”
12:07 p.m. Push the message button on the phone just to make sure.
12:07:08 p.m. Hear “You have no new messages.”
12:07:16 p.m. Think how danged irritating the voice on the answering machine is.
12:14 p.m. Leave the house again wearing different shoes. ‘Cause you really DID need to change those shoes.
12:45 p.m. Settle in to see a movie at the theater.
12:46 p.m. Mentally sneer at every couple that walks in the door.
12:47 p.m. As you’re watching previews, think about which ones would be perfect to see with THE BOY.
1:14 p.m. “Call call call call call.”
1:22 p.m. “If I hadn’t just spent $3.50 on this movie ticket, I’d go home. Not to check the answering machine or anything. I’m just not feeling well. Cramps.”
1:42 p.m. “Call call call call call call call call call call.”
2:28 p.m. Drive casually “call call call” and breezily “call call call” into the driveway, taking your time “call call call” gathering shopping bags containing “call call call” newly-purchased items.
2:29 p.m. Walk casually and breezily into the front door, taking your time to deposit shopping bags containing newly-purchased items onto the kitchen table, refusing to look at the answering machine.
2:29:01 p.m. “Please please please please.”
2:29:02 p.m. Glance at answering machine.
2:29:04 p.m. Though the red ‘message light’ is not blinking, cling to the belief that all hope is not yet lost.
2:29:07 p.m. Press the message button in case the red message light has simply stopped functioning properly. Those things DO burn out, you know.
2:29:11 p.m. Firmly believe that the “you have no messages” voice is the most irritating on earth. Ever. In the history of the world.
2:29:46 p.m. Scroll through the caller ID.
2:30:12 p.m. Scroll through the caller ID once more. Just in case you blinked at the exact moment that his name came up on the screen. It could happen.
2:30:43 p.m. Pick up the phone. Check for dial tone. Again.
2:43 p.m. Huff and stomp around the house.
2:57 p.m. ***Ring***
2:57:01 p.m. Race to the phone and pause for two more rings before answering. No need to look too anxious.
2:57:08 p.m. “Hello?”
2:57:09 p.m. Feel your balloon deflate when you realize it’s your mother.
3:16 p.m. Wonder why your mother feels compelled to prattle on and on and on and on, tying up the line for precious valuable minutes.
3:17 p.m. “Stop talking stop talking stop talking stop talking.”
3:57 p.m. Flop down on the sofa and proceed to stare at the non-ringing phone.
4:12 p.m. Walk out to get the mail.
4:13 p.m. Run the last few steps back into the house because you’re sure you heard the phone ringing.
4:14 p.m. Wonder what you actually heard, if it wasn’t the phone.
4:53 p.m. “Call call call call call call call call call.”
5:09 p.m. Flip past a show on TV about ESP, watch a few minutes and think, “couldn’t hurt – might help!”
5:10 p.m. Channel all your concentrate-ey-ness on sending mental messages to THE BOY, urging him to drop everything and race to the phone to call you.
5:15 p.m. Think how stupid ESP is.
5:23 p.m. Forage around in the fridge for something to eat.
5:44:16 p.m. “If he can’t be bothered to call me all day long, I’ll be DANGED if I’m going to answer the phone when he DOES call! He can just leave a message or not. I couldn’t care less!”
5:47:57 p.m. ***Ring***
5:47:59 p.m. Stub toe racing to the phone.
5:48:03 p.m. Hang up on fax tone.
5:52 p.m. Call girlfriend to whine about situation. Briefly. Very briefly. Because you don’t have call waiting.
6:12 p.m. Decide to do the healthy, mature thing and get out of the house for a while – maybe a nice walk to clear your head.
6:13 p.m. Make sure answering machine is working. And that phone is working. ‘Cause you never know. Solar flares.
6:14 p.m. Leave house on healthy, mature walk to clear your head.
6:14:08 p.m. – 6:45 p.m. Rack your brain trying to think of a single, solitary reason that HE hasn’t called. Maybe he’s out of town. Maybe he had to work today. Maybe he is spending the day with his mom. Maybe he has laryngitis. Maybe he’s busy and is counting the minutes until this evening when he will finally have time to call. Maybe HIS neighborhood was hit by solar flares knocking out telephonic communications. Maybe he was involved in a fender bender and even though he was fine the paramedics insisted on taking him to the hospital to be checked out and maybe the ER was really packed, and maybe it took forever for them to examine and release him, and maybe his head is hurting and the only thing he can think of on his way home is how close he came to death and he vowed at that moment to never live another day without you.
6:46 p.m. Walk in the house holding your breath.
6:46:12 p.m. Loathe all modern communication devices. And boys who don’t call.
7:12 p.m. “Call call call call there is no reason for you not to have called all day what are you DOING?”
7:55 p.m. Spend the next ten minutes with your hand on the phone. Not sure why.
8:11 p.m. Start straightening up your house.
8:27 p.m. And dusting.
8:46 p.m. And doing laundry.
8:53 p.m. And putting away dishes.
9:00 p.m. And reloading dishwasher.
9:05:16 p.m. And ***ring***
9:05:18 p.m. Heart leaps into throat.
9:05:19 p.m. “There is no one by the name of Irene here.” “Yes, I’m sure.”
9:06 p.m. Decide not to vacuum, as it might drown out the phone's ring.
9:23 p.m. Decide that a nice, long, hot bath might be just the thing to soothe rattled nerves and possibly broken heart.
9:25 p.m. Gather towel. Run water. Add bubble bath.
9:26 p.m. Sink down into warm water with a big sigh.
9:27 p.m. Lift self out of nice warm tub to go retrieve portable phone, just in case.
9:27:47 p.m. Leave bubbly trail back to tub and balance phone precariously on the edge.
9:28 p.m. Re-sink into warm tub with another big sigh.
9:28 – 9:53 p.m. “CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL!!!!”
10:00 p.m. “Some people would consider it too late to call after 10pm, but not the BOY. There’s still plenty of time for him to call.”
10:16 p.m. Stare at phone while holding phone and re-trying that whole ESP thing. Just in case.
10:18 p.m. Think how stupid that whole ESP thing is. Again.
10:42 p.m. Give up and go to bed. With the phone laying on the pillow beside you.
10:44 p.m. Check for a dial tone one more time.
11:16 p.m. Fall asleep
7 a.m. “Aaaah – a brand new day! THIS is the day he’s going to call. I KNOW it!”
This is NOT AT ALL what our weekdays have been like since Mark’s court hearing, waiting for the SW to call. NOT AT ALL.
We have call waiting and cell phones and voicemail and let's not forget e-mails. We know absolutely FOR SURE that SW hasn't called. Or e-mailed. Even once.
I have to go now – I have to vacuum my house – in about 20 minutes– when D*F*C*S closes up for the day.
Mine, circa 1995, went a little something like this:
7 a.m. “Aaaah – a brand new day! THIS is the day he’s going to call. I KNOW it!”
7:05 a.m. Glance at the phone to make sure it wasn’t somehow knocked off the hook during the night. Somehow. Just in case.
7:24 a.m. “Was that the phone???”
8:15 a.m. – 8:19 a.m. Race quickly in and out of the shower - he might be feeling chatty this morning and you'd hate to miss the call.
9:03 a.m. Begin the “call, call, call, call, call, call” chant in your head.
9:11 a.m. Pick up the phone to make sure there is a dial tone. After all, there could have been some sort of car/telephone pole altercation, knocking out phone service to the entire metro area. Or a solar flare.
10:43:57 a.m. “Call, call, call, call.”
10:53 a.m. Leave the house for a perfectly lovely, breezy, enjoyable day which will include NO THOUGHTS of whether your phone is ringing at the VERY MOMENT.
10:54 a.m. Run back inside to make sure you’ve turned on the answering machine.
10:57 a.m. Call the answering machine to make sure it will pick up.
11:07 a.m. Call the answering machine to check for messages.
11:07:36 a.m. Curse because you can’t remember the code to retrieve messages from the answering machine.
11:07:49 a.m. Dig through your purse for the answering machine code written on the back of a receipt from the Espirit store.
11:08:11 a.m. No messages yet.
11:45 a.m. Still no messages. Maybe he is one of those people who doesn’t like to leave messages! There is a good possibility that he’s called and just didn’t leave a message.
11:45:18 a.m. Remind self to check new-fangeled caller ID gizmo when you get home.
11:45:20 a.m. Think how rarely you actually USE the word “new-fangeled”.
11:45:22 a.m. “OMG!!! Did I even plug in the new-fangeled caller ID gizmo?”
12:06 p.m. “I’m totally not stopping by the house to check the caller ID – I just really need to change shoes! I really do.”
12:07 p.m. Push the message button on the phone just to make sure.
12:07:08 p.m. Hear “You have no new messages.”
12:07:16 p.m. Think how danged irritating the voice on the answering machine is.
12:14 p.m. Leave the house again wearing different shoes. ‘Cause you really DID need to change those shoes.
12:45 p.m. Settle in to see a movie at the theater.
12:46 p.m. Mentally sneer at every couple that walks in the door.
12:47 p.m. As you’re watching previews, think about which ones would be perfect to see with THE BOY.
1:14 p.m. “Call call call call call.”
1:22 p.m. “If I hadn’t just spent $3.50 on this movie ticket, I’d go home. Not to check the answering machine or anything. I’m just not feeling well. Cramps.”
1:42 p.m. “Call call call call call call call call call call.”
2:28 p.m. Drive casually “call call call” and breezily “call call call” into the driveway, taking your time “call call call” gathering shopping bags containing “call call call” newly-purchased items.
2:29 p.m. Walk casually and breezily into the front door, taking your time to deposit shopping bags containing newly-purchased items onto the kitchen table, refusing to look at the answering machine.
2:29:01 p.m. “Please please please please.”
2:29:02 p.m. Glance at answering machine.
2:29:04 p.m. Though the red ‘message light’ is not blinking, cling to the belief that all hope is not yet lost.
2:29:07 p.m. Press the message button in case the red message light has simply stopped functioning properly. Those things DO burn out, you know.
2:29:11 p.m. Firmly believe that the “you have no messages” voice is the most irritating on earth. Ever. In the history of the world.
2:29:46 p.m. Scroll through the caller ID.
2:30:12 p.m. Scroll through the caller ID once more. Just in case you blinked at the exact moment that his name came up on the screen. It could happen.
2:30:43 p.m. Pick up the phone. Check for dial tone. Again.
2:43 p.m. Huff and stomp around the house.
2:57 p.m. ***Ring***
2:57:01 p.m. Race to the phone and pause for two more rings before answering. No need to look too anxious.
2:57:08 p.m. “Hello?”
2:57:09 p.m. Feel your balloon deflate when you realize it’s your mother.
3:16 p.m. Wonder why your mother feels compelled to prattle on and on and on and on, tying up the line for precious valuable minutes.
3:17 p.m. “Stop talking stop talking stop talking stop talking.”
3:57 p.m. Flop down on the sofa and proceed to stare at the non-ringing phone.
4:12 p.m. Walk out to get the mail.
4:13 p.m. Run the last few steps back into the house because you’re sure you heard the phone ringing.
4:14 p.m. Wonder what you actually heard, if it wasn’t the phone.
4:53 p.m. “Call call call call call call call call call.”
5:09 p.m. Flip past a show on TV about ESP, watch a few minutes and think, “couldn’t hurt – might help!”
5:10 p.m. Channel all your concentrate-ey-ness on sending mental messages to THE BOY, urging him to drop everything and race to the phone to call you.
5:15 p.m. Think how stupid ESP is.
5:23 p.m. Forage around in the fridge for something to eat.
5:44:16 p.m. “If he can’t be bothered to call me all day long, I’ll be DANGED if I’m going to answer the phone when he DOES call! He can just leave a message or not. I couldn’t care less!”
5:47:57 p.m. ***Ring***
5:47:59 p.m. Stub toe racing to the phone.
5:48:03 p.m. Hang up on fax tone.
5:52 p.m. Call girlfriend to whine about situation. Briefly. Very briefly. Because you don’t have call waiting.
6:12 p.m. Decide to do the healthy, mature thing and get out of the house for a while – maybe a nice walk to clear your head.
6:13 p.m. Make sure answering machine is working. And that phone is working. ‘Cause you never know. Solar flares.
6:14 p.m. Leave house on healthy, mature walk to clear your head.
6:14:08 p.m. – 6:45 p.m. Rack your brain trying to think of a single, solitary reason that HE hasn’t called. Maybe he’s out of town. Maybe he had to work today. Maybe he is spending the day with his mom. Maybe he has laryngitis. Maybe he’s busy and is counting the minutes until this evening when he will finally have time to call. Maybe HIS neighborhood was hit by solar flares knocking out telephonic communications. Maybe he was involved in a fender bender and even though he was fine the paramedics insisted on taking him to the hospital to be checked out and maybe the ER was really packed, and maybe it took forever for them to examine and release him, and maybe his head is hurting and the only thing he can think of on his way home is how close he came to death and he vowed at that moment to never live another day without you.
6:46 p.m. Walk in the house holding your breath.
6:46:12 p.m. Loathe all modern communication devices. And boys who don’t call.
7:12 p.m. “Call call call call there is no reason for you not to have called all day what are you DOING?”
7:55 p.m. Spend the next ten minutes with your hand on the phone. Not sure why.
8:11 p.m. Start straightening up your house.
8:27 p.m. And dusting.
8:46 p.m. And doing laundry.
8:53 p.m. And putting away dishes.
9:00 p.m. And reloading dishwasher.
9:05:16 p.m. And ***ring***
9:05:18 p.m. Heart leaps into throat.
9:05:19 p.m. “There is no one by the name of Irene here.” “Yes, I’m sure.”
9:06 p.m. Decide not to vacuum, as it might drown out the phone's ring.
9:23 p.m. Decide that a nice, long, hot bath might be just the thing to soothe rattled nerves and possibly broken heart.
9:25 p.m. Gather towel. Run water. Add bubble bath.
9:26 p.m. Sink down into warm water with a big sigh.
9:27 p.m. Lift self out of nice warm tub to go retrieve portable phone, just in case.
9:27:47 p.m. Leave bubbly trail back to tub and balance phone precariously on the edge.
9:28 p.m. Re-sink into warm tub with another big sigh.
9:28 – 9:53 p.m. “CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL!!!!”
10:00 p.m. “Some people would consider it too late to call after 10pm, but not the BOY. There’s still plenty of time for him to call.”
10:16 p.m. Stare at phone while holding phone and re-trying that whole ESP thing. Just in case.
10:18 p.m. Think how stupid that whole ESP thing is. Again.
10:42 p.m. Give up and go to bed. With the phone laying on the pillow beside you.
10:44 p.m. Check for a dial tone one more time.
11:16 p.m. Fall asleep
7 a.m. “Aaaah – a brand new day! THIS is the day he’s going to call. I KNOW it!”
This is NOT AT ALL what our weekdays have been like since Mark’s court hearing, waiting for the SW to call. NOT AT ALL.
We have call waiting and cell phones and voicemail and let's not forget e-mails. We know absolutely FOR SURE that SW hasn't called. Or e-mailed. Even once.
I have to go now – I have to vacuum my house – in about 20 minutes– when D*F*C*S closes up for the day.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Meme-o-Rama 2010
It seems that every time I've been tagged for one of those blog memes in the last year or two, I've copied and pasted it into a word document, played with it for a few minutes, and then never published it. So today it's time to clean out my files.
It's time for . . . MEME-O-RAMA 2010 . . . consider yourself tagged . . . and I apologize in advance for the spacing - I suspect it's going to me a mess!
Two-Word Meme : Use two words to answer the following questions
Where is your cell phone? Purse probably
Your hair? wet curls
Your mother? Anxiety producing
Your father? Rocket scientist
Your favorite food? Ice cream
Your dream last night? Forgotten about
Your favorite drink? Milo's tea
Your dream/goal? Healthy motherhood
What room are you in? Computer room
Your hobby? Antiquing photographer
Your Fear? Losing O
Where do you want to be in 6 years? With O
Where were you last night? Snuggled up
Something that you aren’t? enjoying humidity
Muffins? Yes please
Wish list item? One guess
Where did you grow up? My favorite
Last thing you did? drank water
What are you wearing? comfy comfy
Your TV? Real Housewives
Your pets? Spoiled rotten
Friends? Many wonderful
Your life? So blessed
Your mood? Cautiously optimistic
Missing someone? My grandparents
Vehicle? Needs vacuuming
Something you’re not wearing? Pink socks
Your favorite store? Williams Sonoma
Your favorite color? Periwinkle Blue
When was the last time you laughed? This morning
Last time you cried? Yesterday afternoon
One place you go to over and over? Husband’s arms
One person who emails me regularly? dear Karen
Favorite place to eat? Mexican mmmmmm
99 Things (Everything that I have accomplished is in bold)
1. Started your own blog (twice)
2. Slept under the stars (on the beach of Jekyll Island GA)
3. Played in a band (I played flute in my middle school band)
4. Visited Hawaii (for 3 weeks – HEAVEN!)
5. Watched a meteor shower (The Perseid Meteor Shower, both out in the desert near the Great Salt Lake with friends, and laying in the back of our pickup in our pasture with my wonderful husband.)
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disney World
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo (not happening!)
11. Bungee jumped (DEFINITELY NOT HAPPENING)
12. Visited Paris (twice – for several weeks each time – LOVED IT and miss it!)
13. Watched a lightning storm
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch (quilting)
15. Adopted a child (Ahem….)
16. Had food poisoning
17. Seen the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables (we have a garden every year and grow pumpkins in the fall)
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in person
20. Slept on an overnight train (from Switzerland to Italy)
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch-hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant (we anonymously pay for police officers’ meals in restaurants on occasion)
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Swam under a waterfall
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater (There is one two minutes from our house.)
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving (see #11 above)
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check (once, accidentally)
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square (New Year’s Eve 1999 with a million+ of my closest friends)
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London (I was at the palace but didn’t stay for the changing of the guards – wonder why?!??!)
77. Broken a bone
78. Been a passenger on a motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Kissed a stranger at midnight on New Year’s Eve
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Got a tattoo
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
25 random things:
1. I crawl into bed like a little kid instead of sitting on the edge and swinging my legs around.
2. I don’t like the Beatles’ music. Even a little bit. I don’t see what all the fuss is about.
3. O and I met online. His was the first and only profile I responded to.
4. The first night we spoke, I hung up the phone, looked up at the stars, and said, “I’m going to marry that boy.” I just knew.
5. When I clean house, I usually put Tom Cruise’s “War of the Worlds” on the TV in the den and turn it up loud.
6. The best concert I ever saw was James Taylor, at an outdoor venue in the mountains of Park City Utah.
7. I am a ridculously obsessive college football fan.
8. When those Sarah McLaughlan dog/cat abuse commercials come on, I immediately plug my ears and close my eyes until they go off. I am ridiculously tenderhearted when it comes to animals.
9. Holding a gun makes my knees feel weak, like what happens when I stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon.
10. I am the world’s worst surfer. Literally. Couldn’t even sit on the board.
11. If I could live anywhere other than my home state, I’d move to the Oregon Coast or the Gettysburg PA area.
12. I have to have my feet covered when I sleep or the booger man will get me.
13. I am proud to be from the South.
14. I cannot stand for people to drop by my house without calling. If they call, 95% of the time they are welcomed to come, but I think it is beyond rude to just show up and ring someone's doorbell.
15. I can't pronounce the word "rural" properly without it sounding like I am rolling a marble around in my mouth.
16. I remember the moment I found out Donny Osmond was engaged. I was in 4th grade and my little heart broke. I was sure he'd wait for me. I promptly took a pencil and blacked out his teeth in his engagement photo.
17. Shaun Cassidy soon came along and made everything all better.
18. Morning glories and hydrangeas are my favorite flowers.
19. I usually tear up during the national anthem, and DEFINITELY tear up when military planes do fly-overs at sporting events. I don't even have to be there and it gives me chills.
20. One of my g-g-g-g uncles was killed at the Battle of Champion's Hill near Vicksburg MS during the Civil War. His uncle who was fighting along side him had him buried under a big tree, separately from the other dead soldiers, in case his family was able to come retrieve his body. (They did not.) I secretly hope that someday, I might be able to find his burial spot. (I have transcribed his journals and letters from the Civil War and feel like I know him.)
21. I love to wash clothes. I love to dry clothes. I hate everything that comes after that.
22. I always have a big glass/bottle of water with me wherever I go.
23. I can't sleep if the comforter/bedspread is on the hotel bed. I wake up all during the night to make sure it's not touching me. O quickly learned that the first thing we do when we walk into a hotel room is bunch up the bedspread and deposit it in the corner. And then wash our hands.
24. My husband is the best person I have ever met - hands down.
25. If I was stranded on a desert island with a DVD player and could have one movie or TV show, it would be "Sex and the City".
In the last 72 hours, I have:
1. Gone to an auction filled with incredible antiques but nothing that I really wanted to buy
2. Communicated with someone I swore I’d never communicate with again
3. Heard “I love you” from my husband at least 50 times
4. Talked to a girlfriend on the phone and laughed my head off
5. Re-watched the “Real Housewives of NYC” reunion show (okay, twice)(okay, three times)
6. Teared up watching a baseball player hit a grand slam on the first pitch of his first major league at-bat - what a great background story the kid has
7. Curled up with a good book
8. Had a friend and her two pups over for a play date with our dog
9. Gone into our “child’s room” for the first time in a couple of months
10. Wished for fall, over and over and over again . . . TOO HOT!!!!
The Eights
8 TV Shows that I watch:
1. Real Housewives – all seasons
2. Pawn Stars
3. Deadliest Catch
4. American Pickers
5. Top Chef
6. Ghosthunters on SciFi
7. Judge Judy – yes, I said it! JJ is the highest rated syndicated show on TV, including Oprah, so I'm not the only one!
8. Antiques Roadshow
8 Things I look forward to:
1. smooching my husband when he gets home from work
2. getting a call from Mark’s social worker ( O has left another message this morning)
3. our trip to New England this fall
4. having two dear girlfriends visit from near and far for July 4th weekend
5. spending Father’s Day with my daddy
6. Sept. 4 – the start of college football season
7. getting my hair cut
8. part 2 of the “Real Housewives” reunion tonight (again, no judging)
8 Things I wish for: (in no particular order)
1. I wish for O and I to have a long, healthy life together.
2. I wish for BP to cap that damned oil well NOW.
3. I wish for an in-ground swimming pool – we kick the idea around from time to time.
4. I wish for my team to win a Notional Championship this year.
5. I wish for my girlfriend’s son to prove all the doctors wrong and live a long, healthy life.
6. I wish for autumn and beautiful leaves and sweaters and crisp air and cider.
7. I wish for my husband to be happy, always.
8. You know what my 8th wish is, don’t you?
8 Things I Regret: (in no particular order)
1. I regret quitting piano lessons
2. I regret loaning my former best friend money - it ultimately lead to the end of our friendship
3. I regret gaining back a lot of the 100 pounds I lost several years ago
4. I regret not spending more time with my grandparents
5. I regret not breaking ties with my “maid of honor” after her behavior in the days and weeks leading up to my wedding. Our relationship went on for 6 years longer than it should have.
6. Hmmm – there isn’t much more I regret. Sure, I’ve made mistakes in my life but in retrospect, I just don’t have a lot of things I still regret. I guess that’s good.
The Fives
Snacks I enjoy
1. ice cream
2. popcorn
3. bananas
4. chips & my homemade salsa
5. peanut butter toast
Things I would do if I were a millionaire
1. pay off our mortgage
2. buy my husband a tractor (he is obsessed with them)
3. go to the fall antiques shows in Nashville and fill up my car with treasures
4. make a huge donation to an animal rescue organization
5. put in a huge in-ground swimming pool
Bad habits I have
1. cursing – not as often as I used to, but still too much
2. biting my nails
3. being impatient
4. not trusting my instincts
5. liking chocolate way too much
Jobs I have held
1. pizza maker
2. nanny
3. medical office manager
4. writer
5. antiques dealer
It's time for . . . MEME-O-RAMA 2010 . . . consider yourself tagged . . . and I apologize in advance for the spacing - I suspect it's going to me a mess!
Two-Word Meme : Use two words to answer the following questions
Where is your cell phone? Purse probably
Your hair? wet curls
Your mother? Anxiety producing
Your father? Rocket scientist
Your favorite food? Ice cream
Your dream last night? Forgotten about
Your favorite drink? Milo's tea
Your dream/goal? Healthy motherhood
What room are you in? Computer room
Your hobby? Antiquing photographer
Your Fear? Losing O
Where do you want to be in 6 years? With O
Where were you last night? Snuggled up
Something that you aren’t? enjoying humidity
Muffins? Yes please
Wish list item? One guess
Where did you grow up? My favorite
Last thing you did? drank water
What are you wearing? comfy comfy
Your TV? Real Housewives
Your pets? Spoiled rotten
Friends? Many wonderful
Your life? So blessed
Your mood? Cautiously optimistic
Missing someone? My grandparents
Vehicle? Needs vacuuming
Something you’re not wearing? Pink socks
Your favorite store? Williams Sonoma
Your favorite color? Periwinkle Blue
When was the last time you laughed? This morning
Last time you cried? Yesterday afternoon
One place you go to over and over? Husband’s arms
One person who emails me regularly? dear Karen
Favorite place to eat? Mexican mmmmmm
99 Things (Everything that I have accomplished is in bold)
1. Started your own blog (twice)
2. Slept under the stars (on the beach of Jekyll Island GA)
3. Played in a band (I played flute in my middle school band)
4. Visited Hawaii (for 3 weeks – HEAVEN!)
5. Watched a meteor shower (The Perseid Meteor Shower, both out in the desert near the Great Salt Lake with friends, and laying in the back of our pickup in our pasture with my wonderful husband.)
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disney World
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo (not happening!)
11. Bungee jumped (DEFINITELY NOT HAPPENING)
12. Visited Paris (twice – for several weeks each time – LOVED IT and miss it!)
13. Watched a lightning storm
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch (quilting)
15. Adopted a child (Ahem….)
16. Had food poisoning
17. Seen the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables (we have a garden every year and grow pumpkins in the fall)
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in person
20. Slept on an overnight train (from Switzerland to Italy)
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch-hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant (we anonymously pay for police officers’ meals in restaurants on occasion)
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Swam under a waterfall
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater (There is one two minutes from our house.)
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving (see #11 above)
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check (once, accidentally)
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square (New Year’s Eve 1999 with a million+ of my closest friends)
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London (I was at the palace but didn’t stay for the changing of the guards – wonder why?!??!)
77. Broken a bone
78. Been a passenger on a motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Kissed a stranger at midnight on New Year’s Eve
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Got a tattoo
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
25 random things:
1. I crawl into bed like a little kid instead of sitting on the edge and swinging my legs around.
2. I don’t like the Beatles’ music. Even a little bit. I don’t see what all the fuss is about.
3. O and I met online. His was the first and only profile I responded to.
4. The first night we spoke, I hung up the phone, looked up at the stars, and said, “I’m going to marry that boy.” I just knew.
5. When I clean house, I usually put Tom Cruise’s “War of the Worlds” on the TV in the den and turn it up loud.
6. The best concert I ever saw was James Taylor, at an outdoor venue in the mountains of Park City Utah.
7. I am a ridculously obsessive college football fan.
8. When those Sarah McLaughlan dog/cat abuse commercials come on, I immediately plug my ears and close my eyes until they go off. I am ridiculously tenderhearted when it comes to animals.
9. Holding a gun makes my knees feel weak, like what happens when I stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon.
10. I am the world’s worst surfer. Literally. Couldn’t even sit on the board.
11. If I could live anywhere other than my home state, I’d move to the Oregon Coast or the Gettysburg PA area.
12. I have to have my feet covered when I sleep or the booger man will get me.
13. I am proud to be from the South.
14. I cannot stand for people to drop by my house without calling. If they call, 95% of the time they are welcomed to come, but I think it is beyond rude to just show up and ring someone's doorbell.
15. I can't pronounce the word "rural" properly without it sounding like I am rolling a marble around in my mouth.
16. I remember the moment I found out Donny Osmond was engaged. I was in 4th grade and my little heart broke. I was sure he'd wait for me. I promptly took a pencil and blacked out his teeth in his engagement photo.
17. Shaun Cassidy soon came along and made everything all better.
18. Morning glories and hydrangeas are my favorite flowers.
19. I usually tear up during the national anthem, and DEFINITELY tear up when military planes do fly-overs at sporting events. I don't even have to be there and it gives me chills.
20. One of my g-g-g-g uncles was killed at the Battle of Champion's Hill near Vicksburg MS during the Civil War. His uncle who was fighting along side him had him buried under a big tree, separately from the other dead soldiers, in case his family was able to come retrieve his body. (They did not.) I secretly hope that someday, I might be able to find his burial spot. (I have transcribed his journals and letters from the Civil War and feel like I know him.)
21. I love to wash clothes. I love to dry clothes. I hate everything that comes after that.
22. I always have a big glass/bottle of water with me wherever I go.
23. I can't sleep if the comforter/bedspread is on the hotel bed. I wake up all during the night to make sure it's not touching me. O quickly learned that the first thing we do when we walk into a hotel room is bunch up the bedspread and deposit it in the corner. And then wash our hands.
24. My husband is the best person I have ever met - hands down.
25. If I was stranded on a desert island with a DVD player and could have one movie or TV show, it would be "Sex and the City".
In the last 72 hours, I have:
1. Gone to an auction filled with incredible antiques but nothing that I really wanted to buy
2. Communicated with someone I swore I’d never communicate with again
3. Heard “I love you” from my husband at least 50 times
4. Talked to a girlfriend on the phone and laughed my head off
5. Re-watched the “Real Housewives of NYC” reunion show (okay, twice)(okay, three times)
6. Teared up watching a baseball player hit a grand slam on the first pitch of his first major league at-bat - what a great background story the kid has
7. Curled up with a good book
8. Had a friend and her two pups over for a play date with our dog
9. Gone into our “child’s room” for the first time in a couple of months
10. Wished for fall, over and over and over again . . . TOO HOT!!!!
The Eights
8 TV Shows that I watch:
1. Real Housewives – all seasons
2. Pawn Stars
3. Deadliest Catch
4. American Pickers
5. Top Chef
6. Ghosthunters on SciFi
7. Judge Judy – yes, I said it! JJ is the highest rated syndicated show on TV, including Oprah, so I'm not the only one!
8. Antiques Roadshow
8 Things I look forward to:
1. smooching my husband when he gets home from work
2. getting a call from Mark’s social worker ( O has left another message this morning)
3. our trip to New England this fall
4. having two dear girlfriends visit from near and far for July 4th weekend
5. spending Father’s Day with my daddy
6. Sept. 4 – the start of college football season
7. getting my hair cut
8. part 2 of the “Real Housewives” reunion tonight (again, no judging)
8 Things I wish for: (in no particular order)
1. I wish for O and I to have a long, healthy life together.
2. I wish for BP to cap that damned oil well NOW.
3. I wish for an in-ground swimming pool – we kick the idea around from time to time.
4. I wish for my team to win a Notional Championship this year.
5. I wish for my girlfriend’s son to prove all the doctors wrong and live a long, healthy life.
6. I wish for autumn and beautiful leaves and sweaters and crisp air and cider.
7. I wish for my husband to be happy, always.
8. You know what my 8th wish is, don’t you?
8 Things I Regret: (in no particular order)
1. I regret quitting piano lessons
2. I regret loaning my former best friend money - it ultimately lead to the end of our friendship
3. I regret gaining back a lot of the 100 pounds I lost several years ago
4. I regret not spending more time with my grandparents
5. I regret not breaking ties with my “maid of honor” after her behavior in the days and weeks leading up to my wedding. Our relationship went on for 6 years longer than it should have.
6. Hmmm – there isn’t much more I regret. Sure, I’ve made mistakes in my life but in retrospect, I just don’t have a lot of things I still regret. I guess that’s good.
The Fives
Snacks I enjoy
1. ice cream
2. popcorn
3. bananas
4. chips & my homemade salsa
5. peanut butter toast
Things I would do if I were a millionaire
1. pay off our mortgage
2. buy my husband a tractor (he is obsessed with them)
3. go to the fall antiques shows in Nashville and fill up my car with treasures
4. make a huge donation to an animal rescue organization
5. put in a huge in-ground swimming pool
Bad habits I have
1. cursing – not as often as I used to, but still too much
2. biting my nails
3. being impatient
4. not trusting my instincts
5. liking chocolate way too much
Jobs I have held
1. pizza maker
2. nanny
3. medical office manager
4. writer
5. antiques dealer
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Time For Some Windex
D and I were headed to dinner tonight and I happened to glance at my backseat passenger window.
It was covered with Mark's smudgy little handprints.
I miss smudgy little hands. So much.
It was covered with Mark's smudgy little handprints.
I miss smudgy little hands. So much.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Ain't That a Kick in the Pants?
I had a few minutes to kill earlier today so I was zipping around on the innernets to see what I could see. A quick check of a few favorite blogs, a google search for the “Real House**wives of NYC” to see what everyone had to say about their reunion show the night before (it was 60 minutes of delightful, let me tell you!), and a peek at the local auctions to see if there was a fun one for O and I to attend this weekend.
I glanced at the clock and couldn’t help but sigh. Mark’s court hearing has come and gone this week and while I knew that the judge wouldn’t rule immediately, I asked SW to please call or e-mail to give us an idea of how things went for the birth family in court. Not a word.
I glanced at the calendar and sighed again. Friday afternoon – just a few hours and the SW’s will pack up their files and folders and call it a week. No chance of any phone calls or any progress for 60+ hours. At least. It’s no wonder that I’ve come to look forward to Mondays. A new week means that unless SW’s are on vacation, they will have five more days to make progress on the cases of any of the kids who are on our radar. Five days that we might even get a call about a brand new child. Five whole days!
Only a few minutes remained before I had to zip off to run my errands, and I was thinking about adoption. I wondered, just in passing, if there was a patron saint of adoption. My friend google told me that there are three: Saint Thomas More, Saint Clotilde & Saint William of Rochester.
Saint Clotilde?
I glanced at the clock and couldn’t help but sigh. Mark’s court hearing has come and gone this week and while I knew that the judge wouldn’t rule immediately, I asked SW to please call or e-mail to give us an idea of how things went for the birth family in court. Not a word.
I glanced at the calendar and sighed again. Friday afternoon – just a few hours and the SW’s will pack up their files and folders and call it a week. No chance of any phone calls or any progress for 60+ hours. At least. It’s no wonder that I’ve come to look forward to Mondays. A new week means that unless SW’s are on vacation, they will have five more days to make progress on the cases of any of the kids who are on our radar. Five days that we might even get a call about a brand new child. Five whole days!
Only a few minutes remained before I had to zip off to run my errands, and I was thinking about adoption. I wondered, just in passing, if there was a patron saint of adoption. My friend google told me that there are three: Saint Thomas More, Saint Clotilde & Saint William of Rochester.
Saint Clotilde?
Saint Clotilde?
Why in the world would that sound familiar to me? I’m not Catholic. I know next to nothing about saints, except those in New Orleans, but I was sure that I KNEW that name from somewhere.
So I kept reading.
Clotilde was the second wife of the Frankish (French) king Clovis I. Born in 475, she was instrumental to her husband's famous conversion from paganism to Christianity and, in her later years, was “known for her almsgiving and penitential works of mercy”.
So I kept reading.
Clotilde was the second wife of the Frankish (French) king Clovis I. Born in 475, she was instrumental to her husband's famous conversion from paganism to Christianity and, in her later years, was “known for her almsgiving and penitential works of mercy”.
Now dangit! Clovis I sounded familiar too. Why would I recognize the name of a French king from over 1500 years ago? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
And when the lightbulb went off, I still thought, "SURELY NOT!"
I went and opened the file I've complied on my grandmother's family tree. I love and adore researching my family history and have spent years going back centuries in search of my ancestors.
Do you know why Saint Clotilde sounded familiar?
And why a Baptist girl from the US would know that name?
Because Saint Clotilde is my 53rd great grandmother.
Let me repeat . . .
Because Saint Clotilde is my 53rd great grandmother.
Let me repeat . . .
One of my great grandmothers is the patron saint of adoption.
ADOPTION, people!!!!!!
Now ain’t that a seriously ironic kick in the pants?
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Dry Erase Board
I have a dry erase board hanging by my desk. Down in the right corner I have my most-important-yet-not-committed-to-memory phone numbers of girlfriends and our vet. In the lefthand corner is the mailing address for our local D*C*F*S, and the direct line numbers of two social workers we’ve worked with in the past few months. There’s a college football schedule for our team. (Less than three months till kickoff!) I’ve also jotted down reminders of the TV shows I want to watch, the birthdays of people we love, and when our pup and kitties get their monthly medicines.
And then there are the names: Mark, Jason, Chris – each with dates beside them. These are the beautiful children whose parents we’d love to be, and the dates that their cases go back to court.
We’re coming up on the first one of those this week – for little Mark. He was two days from moving into our home and we had to make the difficult decision to walk away from him. I’ve talked before about the situation, in as much detail as I can post on this blog. We knew going into it that he’d be a legal risk placement – that his birth family was working on getting him back. O and I vowed not to let our hearts be swept away by this child. That lasted all of about 15 minutes and we were both thoroughly hooked.
Mark fit so perfectly into our life. He seemed so happy with us and was very appropriately bonded and loving by the end of the time we spent together. Our decision to walk away was made very quickly - the result of being blindsided by something we couldn’t have anticipated. When you reach out to four knowledgeable people whom you respect and they all tell you to walk away, and when that advice mirrors your own gut instincts, you are left with very few choices.
We think of Mark every day and miss him so much but we don’t regret the choice that we made.
I was finally able to talk to Mark’s SW yesterday. I really like her – just as much as I like our SW, which is saying a lot. Mark’s birth family’s next court date is this week, and SW said she would not be at all surprised if Mark is sent home, at least on a trial basis. If you know what we do about this birth family, the idea that they would be given yet another opportunity to raise this precious child after screwing up time after time after time – well, it would make you sick.
But that may very well happen and I can tell you right now, if Mark was in our home and we were even MORE bonded to him, and MORE in love with him than we already were . . . well, I think both O and I would be absolute basket cases at this point. My stomach is turning flips just writing about the possibility of him going “home” – it would be exponentially worse if he were here. I cannot imagine.
In the past couple of months, we’ve been left to wonder why we got so close to Mark being placed with us if it was all just going to fall apart so quickly and so dramatically like it did. I haven’t been able to land on an answer, but maybe, just maybe it was to save us from an even worse heartache. Perhaps our pain and sadness then was simply saving us from even more pain and sadness now.
We made it clear to the SW that if this case does, in fact, go to TPR, we want to adopt Mark. From everything she’s said, I believe we will be strongly considered. But for now all we have is a tiny bit of hope along with a stack of photos, some really lovely memories, and a smudged name and date written down on a dry erase board.
Doesn’t seem like much, does it?
It’s not, but we’re hanging onto it with all we’ve got.
And then there are the names: Mark, Jason, Chris – each with dates beside them. These are the beautiful children whose parents we’d love to be, and the dates that their cases go back to court.
We’re coming up on the first one of those this week – for little Mark. He was two days from moving into our home and we had to make the difficult decision to walk away from him. I’ve talked before about the situation, in as much detail as I can post on this blog. We knew going into it that he’d be a legal risk placement – that his birth family was working on getting him back. O and I vowed not to let our hearts be swept away by this child. That lasted all of about 15 minutes and we were both thoroughly hooked.
Mark fit so perfectly into our life. He seemed so happy with us and was very appropriately bonded and loving by the end of the time we spent together. Our decision to walk away was made very quickly - the result of being blindsided by something we couldn’t have anticipated. When you reach out to four knowledgeable people whom you respect and they all tell you to walk away, and when that advice mirrors your own gut instincts, you are left with very few choices.
We think of Mark every day and miss him so much but we don’t regret the choice that we made.
I was finally able to talk to Mark’s SW yesterday. I really like her – just as much as I like our SW, which is saying a lot. Mark’s birth family’s next court date is this week, and SW said she would not be at all surprised if Mark is sent home, at least on a trial basis. If you know what we do about this birth family, the idea that they would be given yet another opportunity to raise this precious child after screwing up time after time after time – well, it would make you sick.
But that may very well happen and I can tell you right now, if Mark was in our home and we were even MORE bonded to him, and MORE in love with him than we already were . . . well, I think both O and I would be absolute basket cases at this point. My stomach is turning flips just writing about the possibility of him going “home” – it would be exponentially worse if he were here. I cannot imagine.
In the past couple of months, we’ve been left to wonder why we got so close to Mark being placed with us if it was all just going to fall apart so quickly and so dramatically like it did. I haven’t been able to land on an answer, but maybe, just maybe it was to save us from an even worse heartache. Perhaps our pain and sadness then was simply saving us from even more pain and sadness now.
We made it clear to the SW that if this case does, in fact, go to TPR, we want to adopt Mark. From everything she’s said, I believe we will be strongly considered. But for now all we have is a tiny bit of hope along with a stack of photos, some really lovely memories, and a smudged name and date written down on a dry erase board.
Doesn’t seem like much, does it?
It’s not, but we’re hanging onto it with all we’ve got.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
One of Those Days
Have I mentioned that I have a serious passion for antiques? Not just any antiques, mind you. I lean towards early (pre-1870's) country and primitive, handmade items.
It started when I was probably 8 or 9. My mom went through an antiques phase, and one afternoon when we were in a former-cotton-warehouse-turned-antiques-shop, she let me buy a curling iron from the early 1900's - the kind that heated on a stove. I was hooked.
I find so many things fascinating about antiques.
The first of course are the items themselves. Because I lean towards early, handmade items, I love to see the craftsmanship (or lack thereof), and wonder who made them and who used them. Did an early 1800's father make that sled for his kids as a Christmas gift? And did they use it through the years, and pass it along to their kids and their kids and their kids until it came to me, all smooth and worn by centuries of fun? Did a mom sew that quilt for her daughter as a wedding gift? And did that quilt cover the daughter minutes after she gave birth to her own daughter? And did that grown daughter lay under it each night praying for her husband to return from war?
The sheer amount of history some of these items have "seen" is staggering, and I feel as if I am just a steward of the antiques in our home - that it's just my job to love them and care for them until they can be passed along to yet another generation.
I also love "antiques people". There is nothing better than going to an antiques show. Of course I'm looking for things to add to my collections, but it's almost as fun to just be there - to feel the excitement in the air and to watch others looking for their own treasures.
There are those who race up and down the aisles, scanning the booths as fast as they can looking for the one piece they need. There are others who come in teams, quickly split up, and talk to each other on walkie talkies about what they're seeing. There are people who see something they want and make every effort to hide the gleam in their eye, 'lest the dealer know that they've got 'em where they want 'em. Others make a beeline for their prize, and can't get their wallets out fast enough to pay for it. There is nothing better than watching someone come across the piece they've always wanted - their joy is palpable.
I also think it's fascinating to watch and wonder why people are drawn to the things they're drawn to. Some people elbow each other to get to the glassware. I'd just as soon have it boxed up and taken out back to the dumpster. Others would look at an 1830's hand-carved treen bowl I am in love with and think, "You paid money for THAT?" As with everything, to each his own.
My collections include: quilts, baskets, handmade stools, early rolling pins, treenware (items made from wood, usually for the kitchen), redware, sleds, dough bowls, heart items (cookie cutters, maple sugar molds, boxes), and on and on. I have a couple of old letters - one a little girl's 1913 letter to Santa, the other a love letter to a young woman from her secret admirer, written in the 1860's.
Possibly my strangest item is a 1600's pewter plate, owned by Jemima Stark who died 21 Feb. 1837 at the age of 77. The plate was struck by lightning in the home of Simeon Abel, her son-in-law, in Bozrah Connecticut, on 22 June 1878. I know this because the information is painted on the back of the plate, which has two chunks blown out of it, presumably by the lightning. LOVE IT!
I have a little bit of everything. You can never tell what I'm going to like - sometimes I can't even tell you WHY I like something - but I definitely know it when I see it.
I don't go to antiques shops very often anymore - at least locally. I find that more and more, they are filled with garage sale type items. There are very few actual antiques to be found - just lots and lots of "collectibles" and vintage items. Since I rarely buy anything made after 1875, they simply aren't the places for me.
However, a couple of weeks ago, O and I spent the day over at my family's mountain. Of course, we don't actually own any of it anymore. It was settled by my grandfather's family in the late 1700's and was named for them. Our family cemetery is near the hollow where my great grandparents' home was, where my grandfather was born. Anyway, we visited a nearby antiques shop that actually had some nice things. I bought an art deco European Christmas tree stand (a departure - I usually stick with earlier American items), and a cast iron bell for the yard. As I was going up to pay, I noticed a phone. It was probably from the 1950's - black, with a rotary dial. I love its' crazy big numbers and the whole look of it - not my style at all, but as I said, I knew I wanted it when I saw it.
I was completely hooked once I stuck my finger in the rotary dial and turned it. It made THAT SOUND. You know THAT SOUND - that clickety clickety click as the dial spins back to its' resting place. It is the sound of me learning to dial a phone when I was little - of calling my grandparents' house to tell them I was coming to play. I LOVE THAT SOUND.
So I spent $25 on hoping that O could fix it. I wasn't too hopeful, though. The part that plugged in the wall was unlike anything I'd ever seen. O said they stopped using that connection in the early '60's.
Well, today my dear husband spent 15 minutes taking it apart and changing a couple of wires and guess what? I have a phone that works perfectly. And the sound of the ringer might make me even happier than the sound of the dialing. So I think I'm going to put it beside my bed. Yes, it might take a bit longer to call 9-1-1 in case of emergency, but if anyone breaks in and tries to accost us, I will simply hit them with the phone's handset which weighs about five pounds.
Sometimes it's the little things that make you giggle with delight. Today is one of those days.
It started when I was probably 8 or 9. My mom went through an antiques phase, and one afternoon when we were in a former-cotton-warehouse-turned-antiques-shop, she let me buy a curling iron from the early 1900's - the kind that heated on a stove. I was hooked.
I find so many things fascinating about antiques.
The first of course are the items themselves. Because I lean towards early, handmade items, I love to see the craftsmanship (or lack thereof), and wonder who made them and who used them. Did an early 1800's father make that sled for his kids as a Christmas gift? And did they use it through the years, and pass it along to their kids and their kids and their kids until it came to me, all smooth and worn by centuries of fun? Did a mom sew that quilt for her daughter as a wedding gift? And did that quilt cover the daughter minutes after she gave birth to her own daughter? And did that grown daughter lay under it each night praying for her husband to return from war?
The sheer amount of history some of these items have "seen" is staggering, and I feel as if I am just a steward of the antiques in our home - that it's just my job to love them and care for them until they can be passed along to yet another generation.
I also love "antiques people". There is nothing better than going to an antiques show. Of course I'm looking for things to add to my collections, but it's almost as fun to just be there - to feel the excitement in the air and to watch others looking for their own treasures.
There are those who race up and down the aisles, scanning the booths as fast as they can looking for the one piece they need. There are others who come in teams, quickly split up, and talk to each other on walkie talkies about what they're seeing. There are people who see something they want and make every effort to hide the gleam in their eye, 'lest the dealer know that they've got 'em where they want 'em. Others make a beeline for their prize, and can't get their wallets out fast enough to pay for it. There is nothing better than watching someone come across the piece they've always wanted - their joy is palpable.
I also think it's fascinating to watch and wonder why people are drawn to the things they're drawn to. Some people elbow each other to get to the glassware. I'd just as soon have it boxed up and taken out back to the dumpster. Others would look at an 1830's hand-carved treen bowl I am in love with and think, "You paid money for THAT?" As with everything, to each his own.
My collections include: quilts, baskets, handmade stools, early rolling pins, treenware (items made from wood, usually for the kitchen), redware, sleds, dough bowls, heart items (cookie cutters, maple sugar molds, boxes), and on and on. I have a couple of old letters - one a little girl's 1913 letter to Santa, the other a love letter to a young woman from her secret admirer, written in the 1860's.
Possibly my strangest item is a 1600's pewter plate, owned by Jemima Stark who died 21 Feb. 1837 at the age of 77. The plate was struck by lightning in the home of Simeon Abel, her son-in-law, in Bozrah Connecticut, on 22 June 1878. I know this because the information is painted on the back of the plate, which has two chunks blown out of it, presumably by the lightning. LOVE IT!
I have a little bit of everything. You can never tell what I'm going to like - sometimes I can't even tell you WHY I like something - but I definitely know it when I see it.
I don't go to antiques shops very often anymore - at least locally. I find that more and more, they are filled with garage sale type items. There are very few actual antiques to be found - just lots and lots of "collectibles" and vintage items. Since I rarely buy anything made after 1875, they simply aren't the places for me.
However, a couple of weeks ago, O and I spent the day over at my family's mountain. Of course, we don't actually own any of it anymore. It was settled by my grandfather's family in the late 1700's and was named for them. Our family cemetery is near the hollow where my great grandparents' home was, where my grandfather was born. Anyway, we visited a nearby antiques shop that actually had some nice things. I bought an art deco European Christmas tree stand (a departure - I usually stick with earlier American items), and a cast iron bell for the yard. As I was going up to pay, I noticed a phone. It was probably from the 1950's - black, with a rotary dial. I love its' crazy big numbers and the whole look of it - not my style at all, but as I said, I knew I wanted it when I saw it.
I was completely hooked once I stuck my finger in the rotary dial and turned it. It made THAT SOUND. You know THAT SOUND - that clickety clickety click as the dial spins back to its' resting place. It is the sound of me learning to dial a phone when I was little - of calling my grandparents' house to tell them I was coming to play. I LOVE THAT SOUND.
So I spent $25 on hoping that O could fix it. I wasn't too hopeful, though. The part that plugged in the wall was unlike anything I'd ever seen. O said they stopped using that connection in the early '60's.
Well, today my dear husband spent 15 minutes taking it apart and changing a couple of wires and guess what? I have a phone that works perfectly. And the sound of the ringer might make me even happier than the sound of the dialing. So I think I'm going to put it beside my bed. Yes, it might take a bit longer to call 9-1-1 in case of emergency, but if anyone breaks in and tries to accost us, I will simply hit them with the phone's handset which weighs about five pounds.
Sometimes it's the little things that make you giggle with delight. Today is one of those days.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Meh
Is it wrong that every time I discuss the latest in our adoption quest with my sister-in-law, and she says, “Well, I’m praying for God's will to be done”, I want to smack* her? Can’t you just pray for us to get a child? Can’t you pray that He will reward our painful, frustrating journey with a beautiful child to love? Can’t you pray for your brother to be a daddy?
Meh.
*Just for clarification. I've never smacked anyone in my life - would never smack anyone. Except maybe Tiger Woods. And whomever is responsible for the whole BP fiasco. They seriously need smacking.
Meh.
*Just for clarification. I've never smacked anyone in my life - would never smack anyone. Except maybe Tiger Woods. And whomever is responsible for the whole BP fiasco. They seriously need smacking.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Time in New England
^ ^ ^ This is how I'm feeling about our current adoption prospects this afternoon. So much has happened – yet nothing has happened. We’re still in holding patterns all over the place.
Every year about this time, O and I start planning our annual fall trip. Two years ago we were kicking around the idea of going to the Oregon Coast. Having lived in Utah for ten+ years, I’d spent many a happy long weekend in Cannon Beach and Depoe Bay and Yachats. I was dying to show it all to O who’d never been.
But I remember being so torn.
Surely, SURELY we’d be getting the call any day that our home study was completed and approved, and we’d soon have a child to love. I hated to book plane tickets and make reservations at my favorite little inns along the coast if we were just going to have to cancel them. Which SURELY we would have to do.
I look back at that poor girl and have to shake my head. So excited. So foolish. I really did think it would just be a matter of weeks before it all worked out for us. We nearly decided not to go on the trip. But we did and it was amazing.
Here we are two years later and it’s time, once again, to start planning our fall getaway.
Yes, we currently have four “irons in the fire” re: adoption. Four of them. Three of those involve what will presumably be make-or-break court dates in the next two months.
Every year about this time, O and I start planning our annual fall trip. Two years ago we were kicking around the idea of going to the Oregon Coast. Having lived in Utah for ten+ years, I’d spent many a happy long weekend in Cannon Beach and Depoe Bay and Yachats. I was dying to show it all to O who’d never been.
But I remember being so torn.
Surely, SURELY we’d be getting the call any day that our home study was completed and approved, and we’d soon have a child to love. I hated to book plane tickets and make reservations at my favorite little inns along the coast if we were just going to have to cancel them. Which SURELY we would have to do.
I look back at that poor girl and have to shake my head. So excited. So foolish. I really did think it would just be a matter of weeks before it all worked out for us. We nearly decided not to go on the trip. But we did and it was amazing.
Here we are two years later and it’s time, once again, to start planning our fall getaway.
Yes, we currently have four “irons in the fire” re: adoption. Four of them. Three of those involve what will presumably be make-or-break court dates in the next two months.
Most people in this situation would think, “It’s ridiculous to plan a several-thousand-mile-trip for the fall when surely, SURELY one of these situations is going to pan out for us.” I wish I was still that person – so naïve and hopeful. I miss her.
But we’ve been through the ringer so many times when it comes to all of this. I can’t even count how often we’ve thought our moment had arrived, only to be left nursing broken hearts again.
I don’t want to become a jaded and cynical person. I fight it all the time. But I DO want to be a realist. And the reality is that there is a good possibility that come October 1st, we are going to be as childless as we are at this very moment.
New England here we come.
But we’ve been through the ringer so many times when it comes to all of this. I can’t even count how often we’ve thought our moment had arrived, only to be left nursing broken hearts again.
I don’t want to become a jaded and cynical person. I fight it all the time. But I DO want to be a realist. And the reality is that there is a good possibility that come October 1st, we are going to be as childless as we are at this very moment.
New England here we come.
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