Last year we brought M&m's referral pictures with us.
Today we didn't have to.
Showing posts with label Pip. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pip. Show all posts
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Proud Papa
Pip and Squeak wanted to take Steven out for his first (tentative) Father's Day. We went to a very fun restaurant located right next to one of the runways at LAX.
Steven was able to get some lessons from a dad we admire very much.
Here, Matt tries to teach Steven the, "Absolutely not!" eyebrow raise. As you can see, Steven needs to work on his. His says, "Maybe if you ask me one more time?"
Matt has several Dad moves worth emulating...
It's a bird, It's a plane, It's a PIP!!!
Here is Squeak enjoying some ice cream with her amazing mom Lisa. I think they are watching the planes.
I was severely distracted by the chocolate fountain. Is it 'tres declasse' to put a chocolate fountain on a baby registry? Here is my plate. Did I mention there was a chocolate fountain? Sweet, sweet, swan of cream puffiness.
Next year, two more reservations please!
We love these guys!Steven brought M&m's pictures. They were in his chest pocket. When we got home, I turned on the radio and heard this song. I turned it way up and danced around the house with the dogs.
Here, listen to it...
Turn it up a little.
Start dancing.
Happy Father's Day.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
The Day Everything Changed: Part II-Chunk of Love, and a Degas Ballerina in a blue dress
Part II. Part I Here.
Kristina sent over their 17 page file. She said that page 9 was the page with their photos. Steven was away from his computer, so couldn’t see them when I did. I opened it and said, “They are beautiful,” and they truly are. She will be three in September. He is five months old (I have been getting this wrong lately as I thought a baby born in January would be six months old, but is in reality five months- duh).
She is so, so, so pretty. She has gigantic eyes, and perfect little teeth. In one of the two pictures of her, she looks like a Degas Ballerina; blue dress, skinny legs, a little shy, a little strong. Her outstretched hand is pressed up against the wall behind her, as if she is steeling herself, or as if she is showing her strength.
I love her. I love her so much. I always thought it was a bit cheesy when people said they have fallen in love with a picture, but I get it. This picture, her file, I love her with all of my heart.
Her brother. He is a chunk of love. A healthy, downright chubby, baby boy with a big gummy smile and big eyes like his sister, and really big hands and feet.He is wearing a onesie, with big horizontal stripes and a graphic of a little creature that looks remarkably like my leetle friend. I love him too, I do. I love him. I can’t help it. I love them both. I will always love them, no matter what happens (Okay, okay- you get the picture, I love them). They are beautiful.
There are so many things about their file that are profound. Remember how skeptical I was about signs? Well, there are too many things to go into right now, but the signs are there. They are everywhere. Remind me to tell you about them one day. You will be astounded.
What happened next ? Who knows! I was in shock all day; I couldn’t eat, I paced around, my heart never stopped racing. I couldn’t believe it had happened. I texted Steven, “Can you come home early?” He texted back, “Nope. Baby needs new shoes.” (Strong work ethic that one has.)
I wrote back, “Can I tell someone? I am bursting!”. Steven texted me back and asked me not to tell anyone yet.
Lori Rooney called me at that moment. I picked up the phone and tried to act naturally. We had had tentative plans to get together one last time before she headed home to Portland (She was actually supposed to leave the day before, but by some stroke of luck she was still in town.)
I had what I felt was a very stilted conversation with Lori. I was trying soooooooo hard not to tell her the news. Finally, I knew I was going to spill it so I said, “LORI I HAVE TO GO I HAVE ANOTHER CALL!” I hung up and called Steven, begging him to let me tell someone. (He wanted to tell my parents, our families, together...first). While on the phone with him Lori texted me,”
Of course I am freaking out wondering why I am not hearing from you. Was that the call?!
I told Steven, “I have to tell Lori Rooney! She knows!”
So I did. Lori was the first to know. I asked if she was available to celebrate later, and she was.
The next couple of hours were spent in the same way; me texting Steven, or who I thought was Steven…
We have got to tell my parents I am bursting.
CALL THEM, my god Call them!
No, waiting 4 you but hurry please!
Me not understand? U are waiting for me?
Oh no I thought you were Steven!
Yep, it seems that I am no better at texting since my 'Champagne at my hose now' days. I was texting Lori Rooney, and not my husband.
Steven and I tried to get my parents on the phone. My dad didn’t recognize the blocked number and didn’t answer. I called my mom’s school, and another teacher answered...
"May I speak to T.C (Top Cat!) ?"
"Hold on....I’m sorry, she is busy. Can she call you back? (I could hear my mom talking to a student in the background.)"
I said,
"NOIneedtotalktoheritisurgentpleaseitisherdaughter."
My mom came to the phone and we told her.
She cried.
Later she said, “Oh, are you keeping those names?”
Yes, mom, we are.
Those are their names.
We got my sister on the phone. She cried too. She told us that she thought since we were both on the phone, that it must be some really bad news. She was happily surprised.
Later, I put the word out on Facebook, “Champagne at my hose now!” Unfortunately, both of our brothers found out on Facebook. Sorry guys, not what we wanted to happen but your crazy sister, sister-in-law, was bursting at the seams it seems.
During all of this, my heart is still jumping out of my chest. I am overwhelmed with so many emotions. Happy Shock.
Three hours later, the word is out. I still pace around in circles in my house trying to take it in. really? Did this just happen?
I sent an e-mail out, asking our local friends to come over at 7 to meet two special someones.
Lauren came by early to celebrate. She had a glass of champagne.
At 6, I got a phone call from Aliah’s mom, “Hi Julie. How early is too early to come over?” Sensing something in her voice I said, “Anne, where are you?" She was outside my door. This makes me smile thinking about it. She was too excited to wait until 7.
Our friends descended, and it was a beautiful thing. I have posted the pictures. So did Lori. It was incredible. Pip and Squeak marched in with their parents. Pip was carrying a gigantic wooden suitcase/art box. She and a gaggle of kiddlets marched into the back room and got started on an important project...
By the time Steven came home, there were close to three dozen people in the house. There was banner coloring, bed jumping, champagne drinking, picture showing. Steven, the most private person on the planet, the person who would like to celebrate momentous family occasions with, well, me, and maybe the dogs, arrived home.
There was nowhere for him to park. He had to find a place amid all of the cars of our incredible friends. I went out to meet him at the end of our street. I threw my arms around him. Holding him there, both of us in tears, with the knowledge of M & m, with a new found hope for the future, with a house full of loving friends behind us…well, that was one of the best moments of my entire life, if not the best moment. The. best. moment.
Steven came into the house and Pip and Yenne threw their arms around him...
Any fear I had of Steven not being happy that I wanted to celebrate in this way disappeared.
It was one hell of a party. I must have cried 100 times. Lori Rooney kept setting me off. There was a lot going on in that 950 square feet. I won’t ever forget it. I will never forget the love from all of them , and all of you. The blog comments, e-mails, posts, Facebook words, all of it- intense, incredible, amazing. I am so grateful. I am truly amazed and astounded and so incredibly thrilled that you all celebrated along with us.
Thank You. Thank You. Thank You.
Coming Up… Part III. Why our care packages aren’t finished yet, what I looked like for the next week, and why I am now that really annoying person.
Kristina sent over their 17 page file. She said that page 9 was the page with their photos. Steven was away from his computer, so couldn’t see them when I did. I opened it and said, “They are beautiful,” and they truly are. She will be three in September. He is five months old (I have been getting this wrong lately as I thought a baby born in January would be six months old, but is in reality five months- duh).
She is so, so, so pretty. She has gigantic eyes, and perfect little teeth. In one of the two pictures of her, she looks like a Degas Ballerina; blue dress, skinny legs, a little shy, a little strong. Her outstretched hand is pressed up against the wall behind her, as if she is steeling herself, or as if she is showing her strength.
I love her. I love her so much. I always thought it was a bit cheesy when people said they have fallen in love with a picture, but I get it. This picture, her file, I love her with all of my heart.
Her brother. He is a chunk of love. A healthy, downright chubby, baby boy with a big gummy smile and big eyes like his sister, and really big hands and feet.He is wearing a onesie, with big horizontal stripes and a graphic of a little creature that looks remarkably like my leetle friend. I love him too, I do. I love him. I can’t help it. I love them both. I will always love them, no matter what happens (Okay, okay- you get the picture, I love them). They are beautiful.
There are so many things about their file that are profound. Remember how skeptical I was about signs? Well, there are too many things to go into right now, but the signs are there. They are everywhere. Remind me to tell you about them one day. You will be astounded.
What happened next ? Who knows! I was in shock all day; I couldn’t eat, I paced around, my heart never stopped racing. I couldn’t believe it had happened. I texted Steven, “Can you come home early?” He texted back, “Nope. Baby needs new shoes.” (Strong work ethic that one has.)
I wrote back, “Can I tell someone? I am bursting!”. Steven texted me back and asked me not to tell anyone yet.
Lori Rooney called me at that moment. I picked up the phone and tried to act naturally. We had had tentative plans to get together one last time before she headed home to Portland (She was actually supposed to leave the day before, but by some stroke of luck she was still in town.)
I had what I felt was a very stilted conversation with Lori. I was trying soooooooo hard not to tell her the news. Finally, I knew I was going to spill it so I said, “LORI I HAVE TO GO I HAVE ANOTHER CALL!” I hung up and called Steven, begging him to let me tell someone. (He wanted to tell my parents, our families, together...first). While on the phone with him Lori texted me,”
Of course I am freaking out wondering why I am not hearing from you. Was that the call?!
I told Steven, “I have to tell Lori Rooney! She knows!”
So I did. Lori was the first to know. I asked if she was available to celebrate later, and she was.
The next couple of hours were spent in the same way; me texting Steven, or who I thought was Steven…
We have got to tell my parents I am bursting.
CALL THEM, my god Call them!
No, waiting 4 you but hurry please!
Me not understand? U are waiting for me?
Oh no I thought you were Steven!
Yep, it seems that I am no better at texting since my 'Champagne at my hose now' days. I was texting Lori Rooney, and not my husband.
Steven and I tried to get my parents on the phone. My dad didn’t recognize the blocked number and didn’t answer. I called my mom’s school, and another teacher answered...
"May I speak to T.C (Top Cat!) ?"
"Hold on....I’m sorry, she is busy. Can she call you back? (I could hear my mom talking to a student in the background.)"
I said,
"NOIneedtotalktoheritisurgentpleaseitisherdaughter."
My mom came to the phone and we told her.
She cried.
Later she said, “Oh, are you keeping those names?”
Yes, mom, we are.
Those are their names.
We got my sister on the phone. She cried too. She told us that she thought since we were both on the phone, that it must be some really bad news. She was happily surprised.
Later, I put the word out on Facebook, “Champagne at my hose now!” Unfortunately, both of our brothers found out on Facebook. Sorry guys, not what we wanted to happen but your crazy sister, sister-in-law, was bursting at the seams it seems.
During all of this, my heart is still jumping out of my chest. I am overwhelmed with so many emotions. Happy Shock.
Three hours later, the word is out. I still pace around in circles in my house trying to take it in. really? Did this just happen?
I sent an e-mail out, asking our local friends to come over at 7 to meet two special someones.
Lauren came by early to celebrate. She had a glass of champagne.
At 6, I got a phone call from Aliah’s mom, “Hi Julie. How early is too early to come over?” Sensing something in her voice I said, “Anne, where are you?" She was outside my door. This makes me smile thinking about it. She was too excited to wait until 7.
Our friends descended, and it was a beautiful thing. I have posted the pictures. So did Lori. It was incredible. Pip and Squeak marched in with their parents. Pip was carrying a gigantic wooden suitcase/art box. She and a gaggle of kiddlets marched into the back room and got started on an important project...
By the time Steven came home, there were close to three dozen people in the house. There was banner coloring, bed jumping, champagne drinking, picture showing. Steven, the most private person on the planet, the person who would like to celebrate momentous family occasions with, well, me, and maybe the dogs, arrived home.
There was nowhere for him to park. He had to find a place amid all of the cars of our incredible friends. I went out to meet him at the end of our street. I threw my arms around him. Holding him there, both of us in tears, with the knowledge of M & m, with a new found hope for the future, with a house full of loving friends behind us…well, that was one of the best moments of my entire life, if not the best moment. The. best. moment.
Steven came into the house and Pip and Yenne threw their arms around him...
Any fear I had of Steven not being happy that I wanted to celebrate in this way disappeared.
It was one hell of a party. I must have cried 100 times. Lori Rooney kept setting me off. There was a lot going on in that 950 square feet. I won’t ever forget it. I will never forget the love from all of them , and all of you. The blog comments, e-mails, posts, Facebook words, all of it- intense, incredible, amazing. I am so grateful. I am truly amazed and astounded and so incredibly thrilled that you all celebrated along with us.
Thank You. Thank You. Thank You.
Coming Up… Part III. Why our care packages aren’t finished yet, what I looked like for the next week, and why I am now that really annoying person.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Sunday Garden Tour
Yep, the return of the Sunday Garden Tour. If you have been following this blog for awhile, you know all about the Habesha Garden. If you haven't, Here is a 2 minute video, and you can see more by typing Habesha Garden into the search feature. You may remember that after months and months of work on the garden for our children, Steven had to leave to take care of his mom. He basically missed all the 'reaping' parts of the endeavor. Well, it is a new year, a new season, and there are signs of spring in the yard...
This year I am hopeful again. I am hopeful that whatever we do in the garden will actually be seen and enjoyed by our future children. At the very least, we learned that squash lasts for months and months after being harvested. Steven made an exquisite squash soup with ginger, garlic, and Fuji apple. It was fantastic.
You may remember that we got rid of the concrete in a pretty 'green' way. We had the woman from Craig's List who came by and took one small bucket full for her Koi pond. We had the sculptor who took four pick-up truck loads full for a project. We thought we were done with the concrete.
There is an area of the garden that we didn't use last year. In an effort to create space for this year's row of berry bushes (we are hoping for blueberries especially) and the grains row, Steven decided to clear it. Guess what it is full of?
Yep, concrete. There are also these two HUGE poles surrounded in concrete. Steven, channeling his inner Egyptian, created an intricate pulley system to extricate these behemoths from the soil...
While doing so he found a straggler...
What's up Steve?
My husband has put more sweat and tears into this project. This new area also has to be sifted like the rest of the garden did. Anyone need some concrete?
The thing that is keeping him going in this endeavor is the same thing that keeps a lot of men going...The promise of beer. Steven already has hops growing in the garden. I guess this is the non- kid-friendly row of the garden, along with the mini-vineyard. He also decided he needed to plant barley for said ale. After an unsuccessful attempt at purchasing local plant-able barley, Steven got online and found a farmer in Montana. The affable fellow (who is most likely also a fan of beer) sent Steven this...
Well you would have thought it was Christmas morning around here. Steven was so happy to see it.
Steven also worked on his bee box...
There is much discussion in our house about the feasibility of keeping the bees here. Moses was stung by something a few years ago. He swelled up like a Shar-pei and had to be rushed to the vet. It could have been a wasp, but really, do we want a bunch of bees so close to us and our petite friends furry and human? Steven mentioned getting an epi-pen, but I think I am going to suggest that we find a neighbor with more property and less puppies... and children.
And what about the tef you ask?
Well, the tef we harvested is still in its 'unthreshed' stage. After hearing a long lecture from Pip about how a cow usually walks over it to separate the chafe from the plant (or whatever the right terms are for that) we found ourselves, well, bovine-less, and the dogs were uncooperative. So, there the tef hangs in the studio, waiting for threshing. We will have a new row of tef this year, right in front of the beer, I mean barley, row.
Oh, and next Sunday we may be going to a seminar about getting fresh eggs in your own backyard. Yep. Hens. I am going to have to consult with this woman. God knows the last thing we need around here are roosters. She seems to have some experience with that, and one of her chickens is named 'Omelet' so she must be smart.
Oh, and what I would really like to plant are mini-bananas. A certain super husband crafts them into the most delectable 'surfboard' pancakes...
Surf's up Dude...Awesome!
(Does anyone find this stuff interesting? Should I continue the Sunday Garden Tour this spring? Should I just stop blogging until I get a proposal? Are you guys bored to tears by my Crazytown ramblings? Please advise.)
Happy Sunday!
This year I am hopeful again. I am hopeful that whatever we do in the garden will actually be seen and enjoyed by our future children. At the very least, we learned that squash lasts for months and months after being harvested. Steven made an exquisite squash soup with ginger, garlic, and Fuji apple. It was fantastic.
You may remember that we got rid of the concrete in a pretty 'green' way. We had the woman from Craig's List who came by and took one small bucket full for her Koi pond. We had the sculptor who took four pick-up truck loads full for a project. We thought we were done with the concrete.
There is an area of the garden that we didn't use last year. In an effort to create space for this year's row of berry bushes (we are hoping for blueberries especially) and the grains row, Steven decided to clear it. Guess what it is full of?
Yep, concrete. There are also these two HUGE poles surrounded in concrete. Steven, channeling his inner Egyptian, created an intricate pulley system to extricate these behemoths from the soil...
While doing so he found a straggler...
What's up Steve?My husband has put more sweat and tears into this project. This new area also has to be sifted like the rest of the garden did. Anyone need some concrete?
The thing that is keeping him going in this endeavor is the same thing that keeps a lot of men going...The promise of beer. Steven already has hops growing in the garden. I guess this is the non- kid-friendly row of the garden, along with the mini-vineyard. He also decided he needed to plant barley for said ale. After an unsuccessful attempt at purchasing local plant-able barley, Steven got online and found a farmer in Montana. The affable fellow (who is most likely also a fan of beer) sent Steven this...
Well you would have thought it was Christmas morning around here. Steven was so happy to see it.
Steven also worked on his bee box...
There is much discussion in our house about the feasibility of keeping the bees here. Moses was stung by something a few years ago. He swelled up like a Shar-pei and had to be rushed to the vet. It could have been a wasp, but really, do we want a bunch of bees so close to us and our petite friends furry and human? Steven mentioned getting an epi-pen, but I think I am going to suggest that we find a neighbor with more property and less puppies... and children.And what about the tef you ask?
Well, the tef we harvested is still in its 'unthreshed' stage. After hearing a long lecture from Pip about how a cow usually walks over it to separate the chafe from the plant (or whatever the right terms are for that) we found ourselves, well, bovine-less, and the dogs were uncooperative. So, there the tef hangs in the studio, waiting for threshing. We will have a new row of tef this year, right in front of the beer, I mean barley, row.
Oh, and next Sunday we may be going to a seminar about getting fresh eggs in your own backyard. Yep. Hens. I am going to have to consult with this woman. God knows the last thing we need around here are roosters. She seems to have some experience with that, and one of her chickens is named 'Omelet' so she must be smart.
Oh, and what I would really like to plant are mini-bananas. A certain super husband crafts them into the most delectable 'surfboard' pancakes...
Surf's up Dude...Awesome!
(Does anyone find this stuff interesting? Should I continue the Sunday Garden Tour this spring? Should I just stop blogging until I get a proposal? Are you guys bored to tears by my Crazytown ramblings? Please advise.)
Happy Sunday!
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Down, but not Out...
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
The House is Filling Up...
No, I didn't receive my proposal, the house is filling up in other ways.
Pip brought me something yesterday...
Her super cool, Radio Flyer Trike, complete with latte holder, and power steering!
Sweet ride!
Pip and Squeak....
Helping LA's childless turn lemons into lemonade since 2007.
Pip brought me something yesterday...
Her super cool, Radio Flyer Trike, complete with latte holder, and power steering!
Sweet ride!
Pip and Squeak....
Helping LA's childless turn lemons into lemonade since 2007.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Mood Elevators That Start With 'P'.
Prozac.
Paxil.
Puppies...
Pip...
Penguin...
Pinata...
Pizza...
Physical Activity...
Princess Squeak...
Paxil.
Puppies...
Pip...
Penguin...
Pinata...
Pizza...
Physical Activity...
Princess Squeak...
Sunday, September 7, 2008
When You Lose Something You Can't Replace...
Where to begin?
There is so much that I want to say, and so much I should probably keep to myself. I will say this, Thank You for your support. You guys are amazing. What would I do without you?
I can’t really talk about August 30th without talking about Pip.
At the very beginning of June, I showed up at a friend’s birthday party without Steven. Pip wanted to know where he was, and when he would be back. I explained to her that his mom was sick, and that he had gone to Phoenix to take care of her. I ended up hitching a ride home with Pip and Squeak. In the backseat, wedged tightly between two car seats, we re-hashed the highlights of the party. Pip reached into her goody bag and pulled out a green yo-yo she had received as a party favor. “Could you give this to Steve?” (Steven never goes by 'Steve', in Pip’s case, however, he makes an exception). I sent the yo-yo on to Phoenix in a care package that consisted mostly of all things ginger. Ginger is great for chemo-induced nausea.
When Pip and Squeak came over in July. We talked a lot.
Pip: When is Steve coming back?
Me: I’m not sure.
Pip: Aren’t you scared without him here?
Me: Nope. The house is safe and I have these two big dogs keeping me company.
Pip: But aren’t you scared at night, all alone without Steve?”
Me (wavering a bit) Uhm, no I’m okay.
Pip: But isn’t it scary when it’s really dark, and you are all alone and Steve is not here?
Me: Well, yeah actually, now that you mention it, I guess I am a little bit scared.
Conversation two..
Me: I’m so happy to see you guys. I just love you guys.
Pip: Why do you love us? You’re not our mom.
Me: You’re right; I am not your mom…
Pip: You are just our best friends.
Did I mention that I love Pip and Squeak?
August 30th was the monthly Ethiopian Adoptive families play date in Little Ethiopia. Steven reluctantly agreed to accompany me.
Pip completely lit up when she saw him.
Pip:(half joking in reference to the newly acquired soul patch) Are you Steve?!!!
Steve:(half joking in reference to Pip looking significantly more toothless than three months ago) Are you Pip?!?
Pip gives him a huge hug.
Pip: Wow, you were gone for so many years. How many years were you taking care of your mom? You look so old.
Steven does look older. Older, gaunt and grief stricken.
We take our seats around the messob, Pip leans over and quietly asks, “Did Steve get the green yo- yo?”
I assure her that he did.
Throughout the lunch, several tiny Ethiopians throw their arms around Steven welcoming him home. It was such a wonderful thing to see; A glimpse, hopefully of the future. The thought of these beautiful, sensitive, thoughtful kids meeting the children that we would be entrusted with, was almost too much to take.
When we got home. We had a message from our neighbors. They wanted to know if we could babysit that evening. We were happy to welcome our twelve-year-old neighbor over to our house. She ran back home early on to grab her guitar.
Steven showed her some new chords. She showed Steven how to play, ‘Smoke on the Water,’ and ‘Paint it Black,’ (which were funny choices for our very proper, very well behaved, very Catholic twelve year old neighbor.)
We introduced her to one of the world’s best movies, ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’. We ate pizza and chocolate chip cookies. She ran home to get three vanilla cokes. We finished off with a couple daring games of Jenga.
The whole day, at least to me, felt like a Future Love Paradise day; a day when we were parents at long last.
Our friend went home with her parents. We got sleepy on the couch and went to bed. We were restless and couldn’t sleep. We were talking about Chris, and I asked Steven to tell me how she would die. Mark called from her bedside a few minutes later. She had died while we were talking. Mark was there, holding her hand, telling her all about the things, we her children, and her grandchildren were going to do in the future. He sang softly to her as she took her last breath.
My husband has lost both of his parents. He will turn forty this year, and most likely will become a father.
All that I can say is, batten down the hatches.
There is so much that I want to say, and so much I should probably keep to myself. I will say this, Thank You for your support. You guys are amazing. What would I do without you?
I can’t really talk about August 30th without talking about Pip.
At the very beginning of June, I showed up at a friend’s birthday party without Steven. Pip wanted to know where he was, and when he would be back. I explained to her that his mom was sick, and that he had gone to Phoenix to take care of her. I ended up hitching a ride home with Pip and Squeak. In the backseat, wedged tightly between two car seats, we re-hashed the highlights of the party. Pip reached into her goody bag and pulled out a green yo-yo she had received as a party favor. “Could you give this to Steve?” (Steven never goes by 'Steve', in Pip’s case, however, he makes an exception). I sent the yo-yo on to Phoenix in a care package that consisted mostly of all things ginger. Ginger is great for chemo-induced nausea.
When Pip and Squeak came over in July. We talked a lot.
Pip: When is Steve coming back?
Me: I’m not sure.
Pip: Aren’t you scared without him here?
Me: Nope. The house is safe and I have these two big dogs keeping me company.
Pip: But aren’t you scared at night, all alone without Steve?”
Me (wavering a bit) Uhm, no I’m okay.
Pip: But isn’t it scary when it’s really dark, and you are all alone and Steve is not here?
Me: Well, yeah actually, now that you mention it, I guess I am a little bit scared.
Conversation two..
Me: I’m so happy to see you guys. I just love you guys.
Pip: Why do you love us? You’re not our mom.
Me: You’re right; I am not your mom…
Pip: You are just our best friends.
Did I mention that I love Pip and Squeak?
August 30th was the monthly Ethiopian Adoptive families play date in Little Ethiopia. Steven reluctantly agreed to accompany me.
Pip completely lit up when she saw him.
Pip:(half joking in reference to the newly acquired soul patch) Are you Steve?!!!
Steve:(half joking in reference to Pip looking significantly more toothless than three months ago) Are you Pip?!?
Pip gives him a huge hug.
Pip: Wow, you were gone for so many years. How many years were you taking care of your mom? You look so old.
Steven does look older. Older, gaunt and grief stricken.
We take our seats around the messob, Pip leans over and quietly asks, “Did Steve get the green yo- yo?”
I assure her that he did.
Throughout the lunch, several tiny Ethiopians throw their arms around Steven welcoming him home. It was such a wonderful thing to see; A glimpse, hopefully of the future. The thought of these beautiful, sensitive, thoughtful kids meeting the children that we would be entrusted with, was almost too much to take.
When we got home. We had a message from our neighbors. They wanted to know if we could babysit that evening. We were happy to welcome our twelve-year-old neighbor over to our house. She ran back home early on to grab her guitar.
Steven showed her some new chords. She showed Steven how to play, ‘Smoke on the Water,’ and ‘Paint it Black,’ (which were funny choices for our very proper, very well behaved, very Catholic twelve year old neighbor.)
We introduced her to one of the world’s best movies, ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’. We ate pizza and chocolate chip cookies. She ran home to get three vanilla cokes. We finished off with a couple daring games of Jenga.
The whole day, at least to me, felt like a Future Love Paradise day; a day when we were parents at long last.
Our friend went home with her parents. We got sleepy on the couch and went to bed. We were restless and couldn’t sleep. We were talking about Chris, and I asked Steven to tell me how she would die. Mark called from her bedside a few minutes later. She had died while we were talking. Mark was there, holding her hand, telling her all about the things, we her children, and her grandchildren were going to do in the future. He sang softly to her as she took her last breath.
My husband has lost both of his parents. He will turn forty this year, and most likely will become a father.
All that I can say is, batten down the hatches.
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