Oh Eight

As Frank and I bid a fond farewell to a great 2007 we are especially excited to ring in 2008 because, if everything goes according to plan, it is the year we will bring home our child!

Yep, it is theee year. Our baby announcements will have the year 2008 on them. Our plane tickets. Our child's passport. Hundreds of important receipts. All those final documents and signatures. Ten thousand questions will be answered as we hold our Habibi in our arms and get to know his/her personality, strengths and quirks. We will plant the first of a million kisses on that little forehead and learn about love in a whole new way.

Could it really be that we will soon be all hunkered down, snug in our little routine of family joys, trials and triumphs? It's hard to imagine not being a waiting family anymore, although all of this waiting is strangely comforting. Don't get me wrong; we don't want to wait any longer than we must! But I kinda like the antici......pation. I relish in imagining the future in all of it's potential perfection. It's exciting and comforting. And as Blondie says, dreaming is free.

Speaking of dreams, every New Year's Day I write down my biggest goals for the year. Last year I did things a little differently. Instead of writing down words, I drew little iconic pictures of the things I wanted to accomplish. I heard that drawing pictures of your goals, even in just a rudimentary stick figure style, establishes them in your mind more solidly, making them more likely to be achieved.

Today I looked back at the 15 goals I drew last year. My success rate is about the same as prior years (roughly 70%), but I will draw them again this year because it's just more fun! My most notable unaccomplished goal of 2007 is, of course, becoming a family of three. Although it didn't quite happen by year-end, we made great strides and hope to check that off very soon!

Here are some of my drawings of a few of last year's goals:

Become a Family of 3:

Allow Less Money to Fly out the Window

Cook More Often

Frank is the real artist in the family, although my slippers, apron and giant oven mitt are totally hot. ;-)

Well, I need to go get ready for tonight. Nothing sparkly this year. We've declined several parties in order to babysit/have a slumber party for 2 of our sweet nieces. And we are more than happy to spend a lovely evening with them this year instead of partying downtown. They are a lot more enjoyable than over-imbibed revelers stepping on our toes and knocking over our drinks. We are sure to have more fun here than at the biggest bash out there! Hmmm...on second thought, I think sparkles are in order.

I wish everyone a safe and happy New Year! Let's all hold on tight to our little planet hurtling through space as we soar into 2008!

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Dear Habibi,

At the stroke of midnight, with our glasses raised, your daddy and I will toast to you. In Kazakhstan it will already be 11 am on New Year's Day. I wonder what you will be doing. Going down for a nap? Having a second bottle? Snuggling for a brief moment with your favorite caretaker? Whatever it may be I hope that at that moment you will feel the extra dose love we are sending over to you, effervescent like the Champagne bubbles in our glasses and tickling you from your toes to your nose. Happy New Year little love. It's going to be a stellar one.

Loss, Love & Little White Lies

We hope you all had a joyous Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Winter Solstice, Festivus or whatever other holiday you celebrate!

We’ve had a whirlwind couple of weeks and not much time to sit down and shed ink on the ‘ole blog. I’ve had a million thoughts I’ve wanted to share, and now it seems insurmountable to capture them all.

So I’ll touch on only a few.

Unfortunately our season started with great sadness with the passing of our brother-in-law, Fred, from cancer on December 19, at a mere 53 years of age. Fred loved the Beatles (especially John Lennon), politics and following the headlines closely. He was very excited about our adoption journey, and shared with us every little story he found in the papers about adoption or Central Asia. He was a special person and will be deeply missed. It was a difficult time, especially for Frank’s sister, Rosie, but there is nothing like a close encounter with death to serve as a crystal clear reminder to make the most of our precious little time here on earth.

And so that we did. This holiday season we were able to share many wonderful moments at several parties and gatherings with family and friends. We ate, drank, bustled, reveled, loved and laughed until our cheeks hurt. It was downright magical. "How’s the adoption coming along?" was an often-answered question throughout the festivities. Everyone's anticipation is growing like wildfire as we prepare to enter our "last trimester." It's exciting to talk about and we were very aware of how different and special Christmas will be for us next year.

In addition to all those warm, fuzzy thoughts, my mind has been stuck on something a little disturbing: The concept of lying to our child about the existence of Santa Claus! There are many schools of thought about whether it's better to pass off the Santa story as fact, or regard it as a sweet, symbolic myth. It just doesn't feel right to instill a belief in something known to be unreal. Why can't Santa (and the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny) be enjoyed by children as fun, pretend stories -- like Rudolph or Frosty?

I don't know, but I suppose we will ultimately hop on the little white lie bus along with the vast majority – mostly because we don’t want to be the bad guys who ruin it for our kid’s friends and who are despised by all the other parents because of it! And what would the parenthood experience be without having to tell a few little white lies every now and again? Too bad I'm terrible at lying; I'm as transparent as a newly-installed window. Having to burst their bubble will be hardest of all, but I am planning to approach it as a rite of passage -- an initiation of sorts into a special club of those who know the real truth and must guard it very carefully to preserve the magic for the little ones.

I'd like to end this post with a little, belated Christmas gift to all of you. It's one of my favorite poems by my favorite poet. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.


Snowball
by Shel Silverstein

I made myself a snowball
As perfect as could be.
I thought I’d keep it as a pet
And let it sleep with me.
I made it some pajamas
And a pillow for its head.
Then last night it ran away,
But first — it wet the bed.

Paradigm Shifted

For us, the decision to become parents was a far bigger one than the decision to adopt.

Until recent years, we were both pretty decided about not wanting to take on the full responsibility of kids, although we love them and enjoyed our aunt/uncle roles immensely. Being the youngest in each of our families, we watched our older siblings take on the joys and pains of parenthood, so we never had idealistic notions about how children would change our lives. Plus, our lives were already so full of things that made us happy and content, and we had not felt the overwhelming desire to have kids.

We had many plans that didn’t include children, and so our vision of our future had to go through a dramatic paradigm shift when the desire did kick in - especially from an economic standpoint. That's because our "master plan" had been to continue to mindfully live below our means in order to be 100% debt-free within 4-6 years so we could semi-retire very early in our mid-forties and set out on our dreams of traveling the world. Well, that dream has definitely shifted to planning to support a child or two for the next ... oh say 20 years! So it was goodbye to the around-the-world journey, and hello to the (even more exciting) journey of parenthood! It was a choice we were thrilled to make, but it wasn't without a few hesitations at first while kissing the other dream goodbye.

The shift didn't happen overnight. We actually first looked into adoption about 4 years ago. We were both profoundly moved by several “signs” that spoke deeply to us, one right after the other. But we soon had second thoughts, filed away all of our research, and went about our busy, child-free lives. Occasionally the idea would resurface, but it would quickly be obscured again by the bustle of daily living.

On the night we unlocked our hearts for good, we were watching some old family movies that Frank was transferring to DVD for his family. As I watched the adorable footage of toddler Frankie playing t-ball, I had a very emotional reaction. I suddenly felt as if I were watching our child on that TV screen. After a long, powerful conversation, both of our hearts were opened beyond the point of return.

I thought I would share with our wonderful blog readers the video that started it all! Funny how Frank’s personality is already evident, as he returns the cone to its proper place before running. Yes, he still runs like that, and yes, I still want to squeeze him every time I watch this!

Our Dossier is in Kazakhstan!

Andrea called last night to let us know our bundle of joy (aka the rock star) has arrived at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Astana, Kazakhstan! Woo-hoo!!! We are very excited to know that it's finally in the same country as our baby. It feels somewhat surreal actually.

It took just under 4 weeks to process through the Consulate. We expect it will be at the MFA for 6-8 weeks. I updated our overall timeline, which can be found in my Sept. 6, 2007 post.

Please celebrate with us by listening to the real version of the National Anthem of the Republic of Kazakhstan I found on YouTube in this short slideshow. (By "real version" I mean not the Borat version, which is quite amusing.)

Here is the translation of the stirring lyrics, which speak to this proud country's tragic history and formidable genesis:

"We are a valiant people, sons of honor, and all we’ve sacrificed to gain our freedom. Emerging from the malicious grip of fate, from the hell of fire, we scored a victory of glory and success.

Soar high up in the sky, oh, eagle of freedom, call up to harmony, agreement and accord! For a hero’s might and strength is in the nation, just as the unity is a nation’s razing sword. While honoring our mothers and respecting the cream of cream of our rising nation we welcomed all ill-starred and struck by ruin. Our homeland, the steppe, a sacred cradle of friendship and accord gave all a shelter and a hearty refuge.

Soar high up in the sky, oh, eagle of freedom, call up to harmony, agreement and accord! For a hero’s might and strength is in the nation, just as the unity is a nation’s razing sword. We’ve overcome the hardships. Let the past serve bitter lesson, but ahead we face a radiant future. We bequeath our sacred legacy implying our mother tongue and sovereignty and valor and traditions so dearly cherished by our forefathers as true mandate to future generations.

Soar high up in the sky, oh, eagle of freedom, call up to harmony, agreement and accord! For hero’s might and strength is in the nation, just as the unity is nation’s razing sword."

Warm All Over

It was a wonderful week. My parents, one of my sisters and one of my nieces came to Charleston for a visit, and we were thrilled to have them here.

We enjoyed an early Christmas gift exchange, and Frank and I received many thoughtful things. But as I worked my way into the large gift bag from my parents, opening several gifts stacked atop each other, I caught a glimpse of something at the bottom that looked suspiciously like a crocheted blanket. My heart skipped a beat. You see, my mother crochets very well, and for as long as I can remember she has crocheted beautiful baby blankets for the new arrivals in our family. They are special gifts cherished by all lucky recipients. So as you can imagine I was quite agog. Could it be? Is this what I think it is? Is it really our turn???

I gently lifted from the gift bag not one, but two soft and cushy, handmade baby blankets. They were absolutely, breathtakingly perfect. A gorgeous light turquoise one, and a vibrant multicolored one with alternating hues of green, yellow, blue, pink, lavender and white. My heart filled to overflowing with love and appreciation for my sweet mother, which spilled over into my eyes and onto the blankets. I couldn’t hug her long enough or thank her deeply enough.

I could just imagine her patiently crocheting them, just as I had watched her do so many times as a child. Perched at the dining room table, hands moving and twisting in a repeating pattern while holding a shiny, hooked needle, weaving a single thread into a superbly organized tangle, row after row, humming a joyful tune and saying little prayers all along the way until a work of art magically emerged. Having put a great deal of thought into choosing the colors, the yarn and the pattern, and agonizing over whether or not her (fairly finicky) daughter would really like them.

Well mom, rest assured that I LOVE them. Not just because they are so pretty, but because they are priceless treasures from your heart, and from the careful toil of your hands. The same soft hands that held and fed me as a baby. The same loving hands that hugged me, brushed my hair and occasionally spanked me. The same hands that have curious ridges in the fingernails, which are exactly echoed in my own. The hands that radiate the love of a beautiful, kindhearted woman who has always done much more for others than was ever done for her.

The blankets are now waiting patiently in Habibi’s crib. For now their intent is quiescent, but their significance is not. I eagerly await the days when we tenderly swaddle the newest grandchild in these precious gifts, and find comfort that the baby will surely sleep more peacefully and have sweeter dreams when wrapped up in a grandmother’s love.

Regina's Mom and Dad (Christina and Rudy)

Regina's Sister and Niece (Sonia and Amanda)

(More family photos to come in a future post...it is a large group!)

Mother of the Year

I have always been intrigued by stories of interspecies adoption. They certainly serve as a beautiful illustration that, from a universal level, a parent's love is much broader than just giving birth, and that a child doesn’t have to be a “perfect match" to be perfectly loved. Here is a sweet story that appeared my inbox recently. Enjoy!

MOTHER OF THE YEAR
In a zoo in California, a mother tiger gave birth to a rare set of triplet tiger cubs. Unfortunately, due to complications in the pregnancy, the cubs were born prematurely and due to their tiny size, they died shortly after birth.

After recovering from the delivery the mother tiger suddenly started to decline in health, although physically she was fine. The veterinarians felt that the loss of her litter had caused the tigress to fall into a depression. The doctors decided that if the tigress could surrogate another mother's cubs, perhaps she would improve.

After checking with many other zoos across the country, the depressing news was that there were no tiger cubs of the right age to introduce to the mourning mother. The only orphans that could be found quickly were a litter of weaner pigs. The veterinarians decided to try something that had never been tried in a zoo environment. The zookeepers and vets wrapped the piglets in tiger skin and placed the babies around the mother tiger. Would they become tiger cubs or pork chops???

Take a look...you won't believe your eyes!