Naughty, Naughty Word - Now with P.S.

There is a possibility that we will be considered for two out-of-state babies this fall. Alabam*a has a policy that they won't release our home study to another state for six months after its' approval. For us that would be September 30th. We are concerned that the babies' SW may need to make a decision about their placement around that time and after all we've been through, we don't want to be tripped up by something like timing, for Heaven's sake.


So about three weeks ago, I contacted our SW Jackie in New, Good County and she was going to send us an unofficial copy of our study to get to the babies' SW. That way she'd know what the study said before the official copy was released.


Except that all Jackie had was the incomplete copy of our home study that the Old, Bad County had done, which did not reflect either our second or our third home study visit. Jackie figured that Old, Bad County must have completed it and sent it to the state at some point SINCE WE'D BEEN APPROVED AS ADOPTIVE PARENTS, and she'd just contact Mo*ntgo*mery to get a copy.

(It was at that point that every one of my sirens, bells, and whistles went off simultaneously.)

I e-mailed her every week to see if she'd received it and she hadn't.

On Wednesday, I contacted her again and said, "Jackie, I'm a little bit confused. We transferred from Bad, Old County because our home study was incomplete. I know they didn't finish it, and if you didn't finish it, it is still incomplete."

Guess what?

Our damned home study is still incomplete.

Let me repeat for those of you who simply cannot believe your eyes . . .

OUR DAMNED HOME STUDY IS STILL INCOMPLETE.

The state SW was waiting for A**B**I and F**B**I Clearances, C*A*N Clearances (a child abuse/neglect background check), and documentation of our two final home study visits. Apparently when she received the clearances, she approved us.

J didn't mention anything about us being temporarily un-approved (dis-approved?) and I didn't dare ask the question, so I'm assuming we're still fine. She said she'd simply type up the missing portions and send them to the state.

Uh huh . . . Mmmmkay.

Often when I'm in the midst of a particularly challenging situation, I'll sit back and try to understand the lesson that God's trying to teach me. As you can imagine in the 20 months since we completed our foster/adopt classes and have been trying to get our home study completed (20 freaking MONTHS!!!) I've done a lot of "trying to get the lesson". And this morning I got it . . .

God is trying to teach me patience in the face of total and complete INSANITY.

Okay God, I've got it. Can we move on now? Please?

P.S. If you know me and/or O in real life and hear about this most recent development, one little piece of advice. If you say something even remotely along the lines of "maybe (we) should talk to a supervisor or something", I will wring your neck.


Wring! Your! Neck!


So be warned.

Baby Kitty Daddy

A few years back we had a cat named Floyd, born in our barn and named before we found out she was a girl.

Floyd was a sweetie but Floyd had one major fault. Floyd had a rather advanced "up" button and no "down" button whatsoever.

Over the course of a few months, Floyd was rescued from trees by ladder, bucket truck (four times), and chain saw (we cut an actual tree to get her down).

Given that we have enormous trees all over our yard, that our land borders thick woods, and that it was likely O would have died of embarrassment if he'd had to call the tree service one more time, Floyd had to find a new home . . . an INSIDE home.

Floyd went to live with the golf pro at O's country club and is now fat, happy, and loved. The highest she now climbs is the back of the sofa.

So when I rescued our most recent 3 kittens O and I were, of course, worried that we might have a repeat of what we like to call "The Floyd Situation".

As a preemptive measure, O started kitty tree climbing (down) classes. He'd work with them a little bit at a time and it looks like they are all getting the hang of it, knock on wood.

I took this picture about a month ago and couldn't help but think, "Won't my husband make a good daddy some day?"

The H Word Returneth

Know why it’s been over a month since I last wrote here? Nope, me neither. I’ve sat down several times to do just that and never seem to get past the first couple of sentences.

It’s been a really lovely summer thus far. Lots of time spent with family and friends, beautiful fresh veggies from the garden, a huge gathering for the 4th of July. We’ll definitely look back on the summer of 2009 with a lot of fond memories.

The three new kittens are a huge source of delight as they continue to grow and explore their world. Almost every night after dinner, we go sit in the yard and watch the kitties run and play like wild banshees. There are few things cuter than a kitten trying to catch a lightning bug.

I’m asked several times a week if there is any progress on the adoption front. Oh how I dread that question. I realize that it comes from a place of love and genuine interest, but when the answer is “no”, I feel like I need to immediately go into the “but-that’s-okay-we-are-content-to-wait-for-the-right-opportunity-to-come-along-no-REALLY-it’s-fine-these-things-take-time-and-we-really-ARE-okay-with-waiting” song and dance so they’ll feel better about it.

There has been some activity – I wouldn’t call anything a “development” though. We’ve received four or five calls from Good County’s D*C*F*S for foster placements, but haven’t been by the phone when the calls have come in and the worker(s) have never left any messages, so the kids have gone to other foster homes.

To be perfectly honest, I am glad about that at least for the time being because our hearts seem to be “on hold” for the moment – so hopeful that we’ll have the opportunity to adopt two out-of-state babies as summer turns into fall.

Yes, I said it. The “H” word. Hope.

I’ve have a strange and strained relationship with hope since entering the world of infertility a few years back. In all other aspects of my life, I embrace hope without hesitation but when it’s come to hoping for motherhood, I’ve been slapped in the face more often than I can count. For a long time, it was just easier to refuse to hope – to push it away with both hands and simply assume that things WEREN’T going to work out. That way, I wasn’t nearly as disappointed when they didn’t.

But for some reason, hope and I seem to have come to some sort of a truce the past few months.

Perhaps it’s because the pain of infertility has faded so much. Perhaps it’s because we were finally approved to adopt. Perhaps it’s because operating from a negative place just isn’t me. All I know is that hope is back.

Now, I can’t quite say that I’ve thrown my arms wide open to hope just yet. I’m more holding it at arms’ length, keeping a watchful eye on it. But I know it’s back.

Occasionally I’ll sit on the bed in our “child’s room” and mentally arrange furniture to accommodate a second crib, or see a cute story book and buy it just because, or start thinking about kids’ trick-or-treat costumes as I’m working in our newly planted pumpkin patch. Stuff like that.

Of course, with hope come TESTS to that hope.

Like the time one of my friends from the state D*C*F*S called and said she couldn’t find our home study and wondered if I had any idea who might have it. Ummm, no. Her response was something along the lines of “Don’t-freak-out-it-must-be-here-somewhere.” It was, apparently on the desk of someone who was considering us for a child.

Or the time that I contacted our wonderful worker J to get an unofficial copy of our home study. Which she was happy to provide. Except that the last copy she has of it is incomplete – the one that Bad County never finished. (Ummm, you were supposed to finish it and get it to the state office. That’s why we switched to Good County in the first place. Remember?) Her response was “Well it must be complete because you were approved to adopt, so I’ll contact the state office for a copy.” Oooooooohhhhhhkay.

Even at moments like that, I find myself at peace. I believe that if we are meant to be parents, God will help us find our child(ren). If we aren’t, I am happy – truly happy with the life that O and I have created just as it is. So there’s nothing to do really, except sit back and yes, HOPE that we’ll get a call from out-of-state worker one of these days letting us know that she’s interested in us for the babies she’s placing.

In the meantime, I’ll be chasing three feisty kitties, obsessively checking our pumpkin patch, eating as much fresh corn on the cob as I possibly can, enjoying time with our family and friends, and loving the heck out of my husband.

It really is a wonderful, hopeful life.

Sweet

The past few weeks have been such a sweet time in my life. There’s no major news. Nothing big has happened. I’m just content.

Our three kitties are a constant source of running, playing, jumping, wrestling amusement for O and I, devout “dog people”. We got them a huge cage (think Great Dane sized) and they live on our front porch for the time being, and are let out every few hours to explore and play, and are brought inside at night. Eventually, when they’re older and can take care of themselves, we’ll turn them loose with our other three to be farm cats. Just thinking about that gives me anxiety, but they’ll be fine and have happy lives.

No word from D*C*F*S though we’ve been getting calls about once a week, including yesterday. No one ever leaves a message, though. I thought about calling to find out what was up, but I figure if it’s important they’ll get back in touch.

There is something I could share - a possibility we have for adopting not one but two babies under a year of age. There are many many “ifs” in the situation, as those babies are out of state and TPR has not yet happened. But we want them. A lot. And so that old frienemy “hope” is creeping back in. That’s all I really want to say about it right now, though. I am afraid of jinxing it. But I’ll definitely share more when/if things start happening.

All for now. The kitties need some play time.

Fly on the Wall

If you were a fly on the wall at my house this week, these are two gems you would have heard:

"Don't jump on your sister's head while she's going potty. You'll give her a complex."

"You'll never be president if you sleep in your poop."

Aaaah, the joys of caring for 5-week-old kittens.

Missed a call from D*C*F*S yesterday. They didn't leave a message so I guess it wasn't too urgent, but I wonder what they wanted.

Yawn

As you can see, there has been a new addition to our home. Well, THREE new additions.

Last Thursday, I ran by the pharmacy to get a prescription refilled and as I pulled in, I noticed a small kitten under one of the cars in the parking lot. As I parked nearby, I saw another one writhing around in the weeds. Sigh.

I called our county animal control where I had the following discussion:

me: "Hi, I'm at the **** pharmacy and someone has dumped some very young kittens in the parking lot. I was wondering if y'all had time to come pick them up."

animal control lady: "We don't pick up cats."

me: "Excuse me?"

acl: "We don't pick up cats."

me: "So basically your policy is that these kittens can just wander until they die of hunger because you don't pick up cats."

acl: "I guess so because we don't pick up cats."

me: "Aaaah, my tax dollars at work." Click!

I happened to know that the store/pharmacy sold travel kennels so I went in and bought one, along with a towel, and started gathering kitties. Once I had the two safely in the carrier, I heard yet another one screaming in the tall weeds/woods nearby.

Now, I'm a girl with allergies and mild asthma and tromping into the weeds looking for a kitten didn't sound too exciting, particularly in sandals, but I hiked up my skirt and off I went. I finally found the little one trapped under some heavy brush.

Poor kitties - they were so sick. Their eyes were completely matted shut and they had bad respiratory infections. I took them to our vet and the rest is history. They cleaned them up and gave them medicine and we've been taking care of them ever since.

During the day, they live in a big wire care on our front porch, sleeping happily on a heating pad. At night they come into the laundry room. That makes the 2 a.m. feedings easier.

Since one of the things I'm allergic to is CATS, you can often find me with a mask on, feeding them, rocking them, or playing with them in the front yard. I look ridiculous but I haven't had a hint of a sniffle (knock on wood) so it's worth it.

They are feeling so much better now. Their eyes are clear, their respiratory infections are almost gone, and they are eating like little piggies.

I don't know what we're going to do with them. We will either look for inside homes for them, or keep them and let them live outside here at the farm. They can join our other three. And if we can teach them to catch the moles that are tearing up O's front yard, he will build a shrine to them and feed them tuna every day.

The most ironic thing about this situation is that not a week prior to stumbling across these little ones, I was thinking about what it would be like to have a baby in the house and wondered how I'd do with having my sleep interrupted as I took care of their nighttime needs. I'm a girl who needs her sleep - at least 8 hours. Now I know. I'll do fine. I will occasionally have a crying meltdown, but I'll do fine.

Moral of the story - not only do you need to be careful of what you ask for, you apparently also need to be careful of what you WONDER ABOUT!

Must run - yowling kitties demand food.

I do

Do you find it interesting that reporters and doctors are going on and on about banned substances that ball players are taking, and the very harmful longterm effects that these substances could have on the atheletes . . .

yet . . .

some of them are the medications given to women to treat infertility (clo***mid, and human chor**ionic gonad**otropingon**adotropin to name two)


and no one says a word about that?