a sweet day

Introducing our daughter, Aimee Lucia. Arrived to our our home June 21, 2012, just six weeks old. Adopted on September 3, 2013, nearly sixteen months old. Daughter of our hearts all the way in between, and beyond.

Something you should know about Aimee is that she delights in removing frippery from her hair. And she has a mother who keeps trying with the frippery, because she can't help herself.

We gathered in a courtroom, and said our vows of sorts. We said out loud the promises we made long ago. When the judge said "hereby adopted" I held myself together, just barely. Then we were ordered to hug and kiss, and happy to oblige.

Sister got to be judge for a day. The gavel was a bit heavy, but I think she felt powerful nonetheless.

I can't imagine a more lighthearted, happy court event. Having my uncle serve as our attorney made it extra special.

Dear friends, social workers, and people who have just about carried us through parts of this journey gathered to witness. The room was full of pure joy. I'll never forget what that felt like. 

Aimee's personality is really shining through lately. She seeks out other "littles", and plays sneaky games, squeals and shrieks and throws her hands up, and bounces around to music. She and Silas are likely up to something if they're together. It's happy chaos.

                                    

And now we know she likes frozen yogurt.

                                        

All of this and more will be scribbled down into her baby book-the one I bought months ago but haven't yet cracked open. So much to say, so much to remember. I didn't really expect to feel different, but I do. I didn't realize I would sigh so deeply with relief and gladness.

*photos by Heath Haussamen

therapy

Before the therapists come over, I hurriedly dress everyone, wipe crusty breakfast remnants of little faces, brighten up my tired face and put on something that says "I plan to accomplish something today." I wipe fingerprints off tables. I relegate clutter to it's rightful home, or at least a different room. I sit and feed Little Miss, or I think of ways to entertain Silas (she's inevitably hungry right when they arrive, and he's inevitably clingy the entire time they're here).

It's all a little unsettling, a little like a performance, but I try to resist that. I voice my concerns, I sing her praises. I pry Silas off my neck. I listen and nod.

When they leave, I am usually overwhelmed by my new to-do list. Today, it's more formula per ounce of water, olive oil, avocado, probiotics. It's massaging open those tiny clenched fists, encouraging sitting and exploration, always  pushing her forward. Pushing.

We're pushing ourselves along, looking around to make sure all of us are keeping up.

she laughed today

I held her above my head, playing helicopter--down, up, side to side-- and she laughed, looking all around and then back at me. It was a tiny little laugh that could have been missed if we weren't looking for it; wondering when it was coming.

two stories

Open your eyes to the bigger story.

Because there are always two stories: the one that is right there, obvious, and apparent. The one that seems inevitable. The one you don't have to try very hard to see.

The other story hides. It hides under a scrunched up, crying little face, again. It hides under your heavy sighs as you bounce and rock, and try to not feel anything because you're getting weary of the rollercoaster. This is never-ending, you think in those moments.

But it's not. It will pass. See how she smiles, on her tummy, reaches her hands out to bright, colorful objects; stares at the bright turquoise wall you both painted a few weeks before she came? Things do change, but it's so slow that you can't see it until afterward. So look back, and see.

Remember when she slept 20 hours a day? When she was never happy, never calm, unless she was asleep? And now she smiles at people. You play with her, for goodness' sake. She doesn't awake with a start, not every time. Remember when Silas was always in her face, and you had to guard her from his curious, not quite gentle ways? Look at him now, how he pats her on the back and brings her bottle.

There is a hole in your heart, and so you feel it. You're grieving the loss of things that every baby should experience, in a perfect world. It used to be an hour at a time, now it's more like three, and soon enough you'll be looking back on it all. Telling a story is the reward for living it.

I'm not going to lie and say that everything will be okay, because I honestly don't know. All I can say, in sincerity, is that it will pass.

You can pray for the faith to believe it will be okay. There is that.

It's not any of the stories that swirled around in your mind before. It's so real right now, that you kind of want to sabotage it because it's scary as hell. Every day you have to lay down that fear, or it will eat you alive. You didn't know what a mirror this would be, but here it is.

Right now, this story is mostly about humility, and accepting help, and family. You don't do this on your own; neither does she.  It's a story about burdens, and dividing the load. It's a story about a different kind of love. It will be about more, but for now this is what it is.

So don't worry about things like bonding and visits and what-ifs. Just do the little things. Maybe she'll eat some banana again today, perhaps not cry when you do floor play time. Maybe you'll bite your tongue and count to ten when Silas is head-butting your legs while you make dinner. Maybe you'll take time to just lay with him while he takes his nap, to kiss his unruly little head. Maybe you'll listen carefully to Nicky while he talks about school, and maybe you'll notice again how Ricky's coming into his own as a father in a whole new way and smile with gratefulness for all of it.

These are the little things that make up a bigger story.

balance

It's 9:18 in the morning. I've come to dread the mid-morning hours lately. It's usually when Little Miss is falling apart, needing a nap but of course she doesn't know that. So I rock and sway, and shush-shush-shush and make my figure eights (to help her cerebellum develop, my friend tells me. All these things we instinctively do with babies have a purpose). But, today, look! Maybe I was less tense and frustrated, and she could feel that and so she just went to sleep instead of fighting so, so hard. And my boys are shirtless, eating popcorn and doing Sunday morning things (inside, outside, building robots, watching the mesmerizing Pingu on Neflix and leaning back on Penny). I am filled with love and new energy.

Life is very one-day-at-a-time right now, and I'm getting to be okay with that. A few days a week, I'm at work--getting to do amazing things like teach about breastfeeding and wheel families out of the hospital with their new little person. Other days, it's taking care of an elderly woman after a heart cath or making sure my patient who's withdrawing for the fifteenth time has what she needs and doesn't harm herself. It's twelve hours of safeguarding. Some days it's a break to be there.

But then I love being here too. It's taken time to figure out this new rhythm--for a while there I entertained the thought of just quitting my job for a season. And, if that need became apparent I would do it easily. But I've realized that it might be a sanity-saver for me--I go out, challenge myself in a different way than I'm challenged here, and it helps. I love coming home to everyone, all happy and ragged from their Papa day--and his eyes are so tired and we both get it. We're closer for it.

The home days are slow to get going, and I start off with a long to-do list and then have to prioritize as the day goes on--and even so I'm folding laundry after the kids are all asleep. The trick is the same as it's always been--stop and enjoy the gift of another glimpse into childhood. Squeeze in the chores where I can. Lower my expectations. Remember Ann Voskamp's words: life is not an emergency; it's a gift.

............

Here are some pictures of the nursery we put together just a few weeks before Little Miss came to stay with us. I'm still adding touches here and there, but I'm so glad it was mostly done before she came. Needless to say, it was fun. Spray paint and hot glue are my friends.

three weeks

Tomorrow it will be three weeks that Little Miss has been with us. We found out yesterday that her mother is waiving custody for the time being (nothing permanent at this point), so she will be with us, but we still don't know for how long. It is difficult not knowing; as is predictable we are bonding with her and making space for her in our daily routine and in our hearts.

So, this post doesn't have too much of a point but here are some random happenings:

The summer rainy season has begun. Next to fall, this is probably my favorite time of year. Such a relief from the June heat. I caught Silas playing in the rain a few days ago and took video, but he was naked so that's not appropriate for the internet I guess. Too bad; it was super cute.

This is kind of a difficult age. He's all sweetness and then screeching and swatting and throwing himself down. But so, so curious. He loves big shoes and watering plants (and concrete) and basically doing whatever I'm doing. He goes to time-out now, and when he gets out puckers up his lips to say he's ready to be nice again. He repeats everything, and he has a complicated friendship/rivalry with a Bassett Hound that mainly revolves around the sharing or witholding of food. He still drinks his milk bottle in the morning and at bedtime, with his finger in his belly button. He says "mas?" in his raspy, lispy way about a hundred times a day, and he would eat otter pops constantly if I let him. He pats his diaper and says "pee pee pee poop poop poop" when it needs to be changed, or when he's trying to stall at naptime. Nineteen months. He looks enormous next to the baby. But he's still a baby too, with lashes and cheeks and curls that slay me.

Nicky has been at his Grandma's house (my mom's) for almost two weeks. It was going to be for one week, but then his cousins were staying for two, so. I'm so ready to hug that boy and bring him home. And, selfishly, ready for him to entertain Mr. Silas a bit. There are trees to climb and sprinklers, a sandbox, a horse, goat, chickens, and three cousins to keep him busy for a few more days though. Silas likes to look at pictures of "Ditty" and points to the front door asking for him sometimes.

Life with Little Miss is challenging but good. The lack of sleep catches up with us sometimes, not to mention the exhausting nature of the situation. But as we learn more about her, we feel more for her. She's been through a lot in her short life, and will have some challenges ahead. I feel lost in this sometimes. But there are resources available and I'm resolved to take advantage of pretty much whatever I can. And pray more. And choose to go to bed early more often.

She's still fussy, but not like she was. She's more awake and alert these days. And she smiles at us--oh how that helps. She's not hating tummy time quite so much now, and she's getting stronger. Every day there are little victories along with the frustrations. Just like with any infant I suppose. She's a tiny fighter.

His mercies are new every morning. I really need that these days.

little miss

We have a little baby in the house again. She is super tiny and sleepy, but over the past week we've seen her become more alert. Her eyes were half closed all the time at first. Since this is a public blog, there's not a lot I can say, or show of course. We've been fostering her for one week and will probably be for some time. We know next to nothing. We'll know more soon.

I've seen so much sweetness come out in my boys (well, Silas' sweetness has to be contained so he doesn't poke her eyes and whatnot).  Children's ability to immediately accept change never ceases to amaze me.

So many mixed emotions. It's bizarre being in limbo like this, but that's what fostering is I guess. For now, there's a tiny little bug that curls up on my chest, and stretches out when I un-swaddle her, and smells like baby. Sink baths and pacifiers and so many naps, and figuring out what that cry means, and if you change her diaper I'll make a bottle at 2 am and wow, was that a smile? It's all familiar but so different too: the visits, interventions, tests. This is a weighty thing, but I'm trying to just enjoy the marvelous little details in all the waiting and uncertainty; all the holding back and giving. 

broken in

We've officially been "broken in" as a foster family (I typed "foster parents" first, but now I know this is a whole family deal.) We took care of a sweet two year old girl for the last five days. Not our first call, but the first one that's actually worked out! We knew very little about her home situation--only that she was the youngest of a sibling group, and that they were removed from the home because of neglect. We saw such a wide range of personality from her--quiet, subdued and a little stunned at first, then cautious but playful, then full of more grief than I've ever seen from someone that age, then silly, giggly, and a little bossy (she did her best to keep Silas in line--no easy task :) It was truly amazing watching her come out of her shell and slowly get more comfortable, although she pretty much never left my side unless she was sleeping. We mostly stayed at home, except for an outing to church and taking Nicky to and from school. I learned that having two toddlers at one time is a CHALLENGE. Wow. It was pretty non-stop, and when it did stop, I was either hurriedly folding laundry or sneaking out to go grocery shopping or falling asleep (usually falling asleep).

We finally got sand for our sandbox, and at first she cried when I put her feet in the sand. Soon, she was fighting for her right to shovel.

I feel like now I understand how hard this is. We can do it, but it's not going to be easy. It was heart-wrenching returning her to CYFD yesterday (she and her siblings are being placed with relatives). Even though I'm so glad she gets to be with them, and we knew that was the most probable outcome, it was still so, so hard. She started sobbing uncontrollably when she saw her family, and again I was overwhelmed by how much grief a two year old child can hold.

I keep going over little moments in my mind. I'll never forget how delighted she was to see herself in the mirror after I did her hair, or the sound of her laugh, or how she kept her sippy cup cradled under one arm at all times, how she kept track of Silas' shoes and brought Ricky his flip-flops to wear on Sunday morning, how she warmed up to Nicky right away. 

I fell in love with her. My heart is broken for her. I hope and pray life treats her well; that she gets a chance.

So now, we wait for the next call; a little sadder and wiser I suppose. 

igniting passion

I'm blogging through Kathy Escobar's fantastic series, Rebuilding after Deconstructing, in an effort to clarify some things for myself, to share my story, and to encourage forward motion. This is so not about whining or placing blame, or picking on any person or institution.  Just the story of God and me, up to now... abridged. 

See also Deconstruction, the wall and the journey inward: part I, the wall and the journey inward: part II, loss, what remains, what works, and celebrating the past

Lately I've been thinking quite a bit about how to transition from the journey inward to the journey outward. It's so easy for me (probably for anyone) to get stuck in a place of constant self-examination and evolve toward narcissism rather than personal growth and giving back. I think I've been where I needed to be, and up until very recently, where I needed to be was on that inward journey. From what I can tell, the important thing is to pay attention to the stirrings in my soul--and for a little while now the stirrings have been calling me outward. I'm actually really excited about it--this is the fun part, right? I've had to dig through a lot of junk to get to this point, but I do believe I am finally getting somewhere. Whew.

I dream of a life where my passions and daily routines are intertwined. In some ways, I already have that. I've learned to be passionate about my family; to see my mothering as a ministry. I've learned to commune with God throughout my day, in the mundane, the exciting, the sweet, the tiresome. I'm learning to stop clutching onto my life; that to engage in the moment seems to create more time, but to cling to minutes and to-do lists (my default) is to lose the day swiftly and have nothing of substance to show for it. I'm learning to approach life more openly. All of those things are good, and I want more of the same.

There are some things I dream about, most of which I've been dreaming about for a long time:

• seeing my kids grow up in a spiritually, physically, and emotionally healthy home; setting an example of that myself
• midwifery, when the time is right
• giving comfort and quality care as a nurse
• growing our family through foster care and adoption
• cultivating a healthy marriage
• finding a way to translate personal growth into ministry (finding my niche in the church? or something outside of it? I don't know yet.)

The word "healthy" is in there a lot. For so much of my life, I haven't been internally healthy. I've been trying and failing to play a part that wasn't even super well-defined in my head; trying to understand a God I had placed in a box (and who was placed in a box for me.) So I absolutely had to deconstruct. It's funny, looking back on it now--of course I had to. Something had to change.

This part is about laying groundwork while maintaining the basics. For me the basics are prayer, honesty, evaluation and re-evaluation, kindness to self and others (basic is not synonymous with easy.) I feel a lot of potential energy, welling up and waiting for the right time to spring into action. I'm figuring out that I won't ever have it all together, but that's no reason to not pursue things I care about or to stop working on myself. Both matter, both are needed.

Each dream has it's time, but I can honestly say that everything on that list has a foundation in my life right now, to varying degrees. My marriage has gotten so much better over the last few years, because of some difficult conversations, some beautiful experiences, shared sorrow and joy, simple kindness, and a lot of intention from both of us. It's an ongoing process, and an amazing one! I see my kids growing up without un-necessary stress (so far) and fiercely want to preserve that. I hope our home remains a haven for them, always. Nursing is a small part of my week (just one day) but I try to give it 100% of my energy when I am there. Midwifery feels a way off still, but I did recently join a study group with an experienced midwife who is a wealth of knowledge, to, as she put it, "keep the dream alive." Foster care and adoption is right in front of us; the process could begin at any moment. The hows and whens are unknown, but it feels like the time for that dream is now. I really hope so. I feel "expectant" :)

And as far as ministry things go, that is pretty cloudy to me at this point. All I know is, I feel passionately that Christians need to be talking about their journeys in a way that is real, honest, and spacious. Having some sort of framework for this process has been so helpful for me. I would love to give people a safe space to ask their questions and share their hopes out loud (shaky voices and all), or even just have a way to be in the church if the songs or crowds or sermons are daunting because of where they are in their spiritual journey. If going to service is too much, maybe they could have a place to go that's a little safer, where someone is waiting to listen. Maybe it's a small group thing, maybe a Sunday morning thing, maybe even a blog thing-- I'm not sure. I would just like to cultivate that vision, to be there for my brothers and sisters that are wounded--not so much to offer my own wisdom although I'll gladly share my journey. Just to let them know they're not alone; that maybe God really is all they hope he is.

I like the idea of adding new passions to long-standing ones, as life happens. As I learn.

foster/adoption update

Today our social worker came over, mainly to do a final home inspection but also to tie up some loose ends. She asked if we're willing to take a sibling group, if we're willing to be on the "after-hours" call list, and if we'll provide respite care to kids of any age. I pretty much gave our stock answer: "it depends".  (Respite care means watching other foster parents' kids for a few days so can have a break. Foster parents can request up to three days of respite per month, but it's not really guaranteed since there has to be someone willing to do it.)

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that today would be the first official day of our licensure. We're foster parents!  Honestly, this process has been so drawn out that I expected it to be a few more weeks before we heard anything definitive. I don't know when we'll start receiving calls, but it could be very soon from what I understand.

She suggested we have some clothes ready, so I perused a little in Target this afternoon and found some cute comfy things. It's really hard to know what to buy at this point, since we could be placed with a kiddo who's anywhere from a newborn up to age five, and also it's likely that we'll have many precious little people pass through our home before we're able to adopt. I'm thinking I'll hit up the thrift stores this week and try to have just one outfit in each size for starters. Buying little clothes sure makes this whole thing seem a lot more real.

As far as other practical preparations go, we may need another carseat, crib, toddler bed, or twin bed. We have an infant carseat and a spare toddler booster seat, and a pack-n-play that could serve as a bed in an emergency. This is definitely motivation to stay on top of things cleaning-wise. From what we've learned, it's important to stick close to home for a while when a new kiddo comes to live with us, since they can be pretty traumatized, so I guess just being prepared for that is something to think about. One foster parent suggested having comfort food on hand.

I'm feeling grateful and also a little scared. This thing has always been a mix of exciting and scary though. I've really just been waiting--kind of wanting to "nest" but really having no idea what makes sense to do--so it feels good to have something I can actually do with my hands, even if the details are still uncertain. I'm certainly praying for wisdom, and trying to prepare my heart. This is such a bittersweet thing, but we feel strongly drawn to it.

So that's the latest :)

a few sick-day thoughts

• This week I've experienced that wonderful phenomenon that happens when a non-cuddly baby gets sick. Silas has been snuggling up with me almost constantly, which is of course wonderful and also sad. He is usually way too busy for this kind of stuff. No fever- just cough, runny nose, one day of throwing up, eating very little but still drinking lots of fluids and going to the bathroom normally....now this morning I noticed him pulling on his ear and it's a relief to have something to potentially treat. Yesterday, whatever he has slayed me as well. I woke up with some serious body aches, dizziness, fatigue, queasiness and a sore throat. This is a weird bug, whatever it is. I had to keep Nicky home from school because there was no way I could drive. I think he needed the rest anyway; he's taken a two hour nap after school twice this week. Silas and I spent the whole morning sleeping. I taught Nicky how to play chinese checkers in the afternoon, when I could handle being vertical. So yeah, thank God Ricky feels well. He took Nicky to school today and is trying to get Silas in to see his doc. I feel better but still bad enough to call in today. I've got tea to drink and blogs to read; so grateful for some rest time.

• We have two classes to go for our foster/adoption training. All day tomorrow, and Tuesday night (our hot Valentine's date). Actually it is a pretty romantic thing, starting a new adventure together. We've been learning a lot; most of it is difficult to take but important to know. I would absolutely be lying if I said I wasn't scared. I am. These classes are making me realize I have some issues to work through in order to be a good foster parent (like the judgment I will most likely feel toward birth parents who have done harm to their kids, and the likelihood that I will want to keep all of them but have to send them back home).  I really, really want to adopt quickly, but Ricky and I have also talked about how cool it would be to be instrumental in re-uniting families, and forging lasting relationships with parents who just need some resources. This is going to be a process, and I'm still very much excited for it, but I'm understanding some harsh realities a little better. Resisting the urge to cover my ears and just pretend everything will be fine and easy.

• Ricky took this yesterday-Nicky and his "dog sister", as he calls her. They are so funny. The other day they were playing outside and I heard Nicky declare, "Penny, I'm going to tell on you." Which he did, and she just stood there looking up at me with those pathetic Basset Hound eyes. She is really good at pretending to be oblivious. Nicky told me he always loves Penny, even when she's in trouble. I told him I love her too, I just get mad when she chews up yet another toy/roots through the trash/insert bad doggie behavior here. I do appreciate her constant willingness to be a pillow though. She really is the perfect dog for kiddos.

• Silas dunked a wireless mouse into a big glass of orange juice this morning. I took it apart and dried it, and what do you know, it still works.

• Wednesday night our church had a Compassion banquet and laid out a plan for helping people in extreme poverty. I'm so impressed and proud of the work that's being done, and excited to be a part of it. There's a link on the sidebar above to the 58: Initiative, part of the inspiration behind all this.

• Thursday is usually my day to wash and fold laundry all day long, because I would rather do that than do a load every day. So I'm thinking I may find a movie and get cracking on that. I hope your (and our) weekend contains some loveliness, some chocolate, and not this yucky bug.

normal

Over the course of this licensing process I've discovered a whole new level of tired: post homestudy tired. Yep. After answering lots of questions and really just being honest and hoping you convey that you're a fairly well-rounded person with a reasonable amount of childhood issues that you're not unreasonably hung up about, that you're a good parent, that you have a healthy marriage on all fronts (ahem), and your discipline practices are acceptable, and you have enough self-esteem, and your home is safe for small children, and you are basically at peace with your life and self-aware but not self-centered, just basically that you're not a ridiculous person, ETCETERA.......you are tired to your toenails.

It's kind of like one of those three hour talks with a close friend where you disclose all sorts of personal information, except there is absolutely no reciprocation, no mirroring, and the other person remains neutral and offers no opinion, approval or disapproval of anything you say. And then you start to feel just a wee bit scared.

I feel so unsettled. Am I weird? Am I normal? Do you like me? Yay, I'm thirteen again! Or three days post-partum. 

After the homestudy was over and I got Nicky from school, Ricky and I just laid on the floor while the kids played and threw various stuffed animals at us, willing ourselves to have energy so we could do things like eat dinner and bathe the littles and then slowly sink into a vegetative state.

We have been studied.

Let's hope I return to my only slightly paranoid self in the morning.

secondhand smoke, teething, and other stuff

Saturday morning, having been summoned from my bed a little after six and still groggy, I made some popcorn. It was the fastest thing I could think of to feed the boys (and kind of Saturday morning-ish) and gave me a few minutes to drink some much-needed coffee. Really, the point of all that was that Nicky was eating it and started choking a little bit. So he coughed, and cleared out the offending piece of popcorn, and then said "must have been some secondhand smoke." And we laughed, and after that I was awake. I love that boy.

This week has been satisfyingly busy. Sunday I cleaned the whole house in preparation for the home-study, which was Monday, and wouldn't you know we sat on the couch doing my interview the entire time. I will never complain about a clean house though. I even organized some things I've been putting off. There's plenty of home-study to go, not to mention many other foster-care related things to get done, but it's really nice to have the ball rolling. I'm excited for what 2012 may hold.

Silas is getting molars. He is just all about the teeth, that baby. He's pretty fussy with all that going on, but right now happily distracted playing in big brother's room. He does a little happy dance in my arms every time I take him in there. I suppose they'll be sharing a room soon enough.

And, a few Penny pictures just because.

Maybe tonight Nicky can learn about emphysema. Good times.

good to be.

I have sand in my hair, and my good stretchy yoga pants on, and it is good to be home. Today was a day of events: spend too much time drinking coffee and lounging this morning, dress everyone quickly, dash in to Target to buy tripod for photo shoot, birthday party with boys for me, music practice for Ricky, home again, dress everyone quickly, off to wedding at White Sands. There was snow on the dunes, and we all remarked how weird it was that the dunes looked dirty. They usually look so pristine against the desert. The snow was all sparkly in the sunlight, and it was a lovely spot for a wedding.

a little silliness while Ricky sets up the camera

After the ceremony, we attempted to get a good family shot using the new tripod. Out of forty or so I think there are two usable ones; that's how it goes right? So Christmas photo cards are in the works now. Nicky had a blast sliding down the dunes and making snow angels. We headed back to town, and while we were driving I got a call from a home study contractor who received our referral just yesterday (we're still working on a few things, but have most of the paperwork in; all of the "biggies" anyway). So, turns out she's in town for the weekend and we're starting the homestudy process Monday. Monday! Needless to say, I should be cleaning (that is almost always a true statement). Things are moving right along. Yay! And also eek.

Nicky's Christmas play was adorable. There was a girl right in front of him busting a move during every song; it was hilarious and had us giggling so much.

I got a few shots of Nicky beforehand- yup, same outfit. I like to have one good Christmasy outfit for the season, since there are usually a handful of dress-up events during. Keep it simple. The sweater is actually one of the greatest hand-me-downs of all time. I love it.

This one charmed the lady behind us. He does this thing where he finds someone closely and flirts shamelessly.

We had some celebratory brownies and milk at home afterward.

Just threw this one in because it's cute. I love being his Mome. So, those are the haps. Lots to think and pray about, and lots to do. I'm ready to get this party started.

one step

The house is quiet and weekend-messy. I have no intention of cleaning until Monday. We're home from a birthday party for a sweet little friend, I have a hot cup of cocoa and a basket of yarn, and a sore flu-shot arm, and I am at peace. This morning I told Ricky, "I want to try this," pointing to the stack of papers that make up the foster/adoption application. And he said, "Cool". He was already there. So it's a yes, and I'm keeping in mind what the regional recruiter I spoke with told me-just take the whole process one step at a time, and be flexible. That's the plan.

Yesterday we went with Nicky's class to the pumpkin patch. Little brother tagged along too. Last year he was a belly pumpkin. We didn't do much chaperoning, because there were a ton of parents. So we pretty much just got to hang out and chase our own kids around like usual, and meet some of the parents we didn't know yet. I love this age. (I'm pretty sure I've said that every year of Nicky's life).

 rubber duck races

 cooling off under the leaves

tired Papa

We came home and vegged out for a few hours (and Silas took a real nap, not one of those 30 minute fakies he's prone to lately) then chopped up the garden. It was still very green so the soil should really benefit for next year. It's exciting to think about what could happen between now and then. We'll see.