Thoughts at 6 months waiting...

I know I said that I was going to check in at monthly intervals and share my thoughts. I haven't done this for a variety of reasons. First of all, I feel frightened to say what I really think about International adoption. I don't want anyone to pull my Dossier, especially me. My desire to raise two children from Ethiopia is my strongest want. Even if I had a "private" blog, I am not sure that I would or could articulate everything that has been going through my mind.

You know the Kubler-Ross grief cycle? It looks like this...



Now in NO WAY am I saying that being in the process of adopting children compares to facing a serious illness or a devastating loss. The only thing that I am saying, is that I feel like this "waiting process" has several stages. I feel like I have gone through many of these stages already. I hope that by mentioning them here, I might hear that someone else wrestled with some of this stuff. This is sounding vague and I am just going to spit out what I want to say. Before I do I just want to say to my social workers and the Department of Justice, Thanks for reading, I hope you think my photos are funny, and I am fully committed to my adoption. It is the single most important thing (next to my current family) in my life.

So here are what I think have been my stages of waiting . It has been six months since we applied to adopt two small children from Ethiopia. Again, these are my thoughts of how it has been for me. In no way am I trying to project or assume that others have had the same experience. Not everyone is a resident of Crazytown.


First Stage of Waiting: RELIEF. Relief that you and your husband have finally landed on the same page regarding your family building. (Page 93 right honey?) You agree on the country. You agree on the agency.You agree to the expense.

Second Stage: JOY. Joy overwhelms you. There is a light (two lights) at the end of a long, nine year tunnel. You have a spring in your step. The excitement is palpable. You can go to a playground without weeping. You become a member of a club that has up until now excluded you. You can talk about preschool and even attend community school board meetings without fear of someone carrying you out in a straight-jacket. You skim the paper to see just what is the name or number of that education account you can start? Is it a 503k or something? You weigh the benefits of trundle vs bunk? You childproof. You tell EVERYONE you know about your plans.

Third Stage: What I would like to refer to as the WIN/WIN/NAIVETE /MELISSA FAYE GREENE STAGE. You have just finished,"There is No Me Without You." You think, not only I am helping myself, but I am helping Africa. We want kids, these orphans need families. They do. They absolutely need help. There are millions of orphans that need homes. There are families that have been decimated by AIDS and other diseases. There are so many parentless children. It is a win win situation. You get your family, they get a family.

Fourth Stage: HARSH REALITY/ ETHICAL QUESTIONING. A lot of these children up for adoption are not necessarily orphans. In fact a lot of them have TWO parents, a mom and a dad. They have siblings. They are being relinquished because their family can no longer afford to feed them. They will be, by your adopting them, taken from their country, their family and the only lives they have ever known. Their losses will be enormous. This is where it starts to get tricky. This is where you start wrestling a lot. " If I really cared about Ethiopia, I would take these thousands of dollars in adoption fees and bring them immediately to the organization that would do everything in their power to preserve this Ethiopian family." These thousands of dollars could keep many Ethiopian families intact. Which brings me to my next stage...


Fifth Stage: The I AM A SELFISH ASSHOLE. My white privileged need of having a family is much stronger than my need to help Ethiopia. My mothering hormones are not going to be dissipated by my concern for struggling Africans. I am an asshole.

Sixth Stage: BARGAINING. I am an asshole, but I agree to change my need. This is when, if you are me, you announce to your husband one morning, " I think that we should adopt a twelve year old from Ethiopia instead. Our neighbor is twelve and they can hang out together. Our child can go right into school. We will make sure that she is in actuality a true orphan, an only child, and HIV positive. We have good health insurance ."

This is when your husband starts to wish he never met you. Your husband who likes, more than anything, to make a decision and stick with it. Your husband starts some questioning of his own,"Who is this Crazy person and why did I ever marry her?"

Seventh Stage: OUTRAGE. Why doesn't everyone else know how bad things are around the world? Why aren't people doing more? Why is Haiti in the shitter and no one cares? Is Don Cheadle getting through to anyone? Unfortunately this outrage turns into a self-righteousness and a judgemental attitude, which sends me back down spiraling into...

Eighth Stage: GUILT. I feel guilty. I feel guilty for judging. I feel guilty for adopting. I feel guilty for eating, you name it...I feel guilty.

Ninth Stage: RESOLVE. I will do more. I will bring awareness. I will make a difference. I will do something. I will start a project that will help.

Tenth Stage: RENEWED OPTIMISM. It's okay. I will continue. I will call today and give our agency the third payment they have been asking for. I will continue my reading. I will learn more about parenting. I will do my best to be a mother to these two children. I will give it everything that I have. I will continue to wrestle. I will try to do what is best. I will look for answers.

So that's where I am at. See why I don't write about it every month?

If you have any thoughts that you don't feel comfortable posting in the comments, please e-mail me. (I just realized that you could link an e-mail address to your profile. Duh.)

Happy Mother's Day...

Happy Mother's Day to our moms, and to all the moms out there, especially the ones enjoying their first Mother's Day.

To those moms still waiting...

Your day to eat misshapen, undercooked pancakes made by a small person in footie pajamas, is just around the corner. Hang in there.




My mom is nineteen in the above photo. Doesn't she look ten?!






Chris and Steven in Ecuador above, and Phoenix ( I think) below.


Today I will resist the impulse to deck any woman in a festive hat carrying a free rose.

I will instead, do something that makes me feel much better; give thanks for the incredible gift of having two healthy, loving moms to call my own.

I am lucky.

Future. Love. Paradise.

Saturday with Pip and Squeak.

Friday Friend or Family Feature...

Today’s Feature is…


The Fullers !




This is how I first heard about my friend Chris…

My Friend Ali: I have a problem.
Me: What is it?
Ali: I can’t act with my co-star. (Ali had just been cast in a film.)
Me: Why not? Is he a jerk?
Ali: No. It is just that he is too beautiful. My eyes just slide off his face when I look at him. It is a problem.


Chris and Ali in Santa Fe.


Chris may look familiar. He was a heartthrob on “As the World Turns.” He also looked quite dapper as he drowned gracefully here. Chris did a commercial for Ecco Domani (you are so lucky this isn’t available on You Tube, Chris). He was so darn charming in this spot, that network executives immediately began calling him in for meetings.



Chris, to me, has always seemed like the cool older brother that I never had. He is from the Midwest, Minnesota to be exact. He is a down to earth person with strong values and an excellent sense of humor. He has been a very good friend, for a very long time.


We both begrudgingly ended up in Los Angeles. Chris would come and visit Steven and me at the beach. Inevitably whenever this occurred something very funny would happen. Women would come out of the woodwork. Neighbors we had never met, café waitresses, passersby would all come up to us and ask these two questions…

“Who is that guy?”

“Is he single?”

It was going to take a special woman to snag Chris.

Chris, after getting his heart stomped by a depressive movie star, sought solace in the warmth of Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. Instead of finding strength in the bottom of a margarita glass, Chris found something much more profound.

He found Jane.



Jane is an extremely lovely young woman from the U.K.- (Scotland really). She, too, is very down to earth. She, too, has a fantastic sense of humor. She, too, has broken her share of hearts. Jane has a super cute accent and says things like,"That Hershey's chocolate tastes like sick." She and a friend were “On Holiday” in Cabo San Lucas.

Chris really liked Jane.

Jane really liked Chris.

Look what happened….




Yep. Marriage… Scottish Castle style.

It is a rare man who feels comfortable getting married in a skirt. It is a rare woman who feels comfortable letting her groom get married wearing said skirt.




Amid fields of heather, cups of tea, late night cheese and biscuit raids and airline-sized bottles of Dalwhinnie these two tied the knot. What a wedding. It was like something out of Merchant/ Ivory, or at least Altman’s "Gosford Park" (Where was Clive Owen though? That would have been much better if Clive Owen could have been there.) Speaking of Merchant/Ivory, did I mention that one of those guys was in love with Chris? That’s right, Chris was invited to lunch at their villa in Italy. Unfortunately for Merchant, or was it Ivory? Chris only had eyes for Jane.

Chris and Jane’s first dance song was Neil Diamond’s, “ You Got to Me.” I will never forget them dancing joyously, with wild abandon to that totally cheesy song.

Look what happens next…

The Uber child. Grace.



That’s not all, prepare for the cuteness….

Here’s Riley.



These two make some pretty babies. Pretty and smart.




Chris and Jane have always been extremely supportive of us. They were there for me during this ordeal. They even visited me in that very icky hospital. They brought dinner, books and even the little Gracie to cheer me up. They gave me a much-needed hug when I had a major pain-killer induced meltdown in my hospital bed. Chris teased me about being radioactive, just like a proper older brother would.


Jane and Chris were right there with us as we tried and failed to build our family. They were as excited as we were to find out that we were finally pregnant. Jane is an excellent cook. She could give the Barefoot Contessa a run for her money. She made us a celebratory dinner.


She made me a coconut cake; a coconut cake to celebrate something glorious that Steven and I had never seen before, a tiny heartbeat on our doctor's ultrasound machine. She gave me her book, “City Baby LA.” It was a great day.

Chris and Jane were always very thoughtful when talking about their pregnancies, their kids' births, and their new experiences as parents. It was as if they painstakingly chose the right words to make us feel comfortable and supported. They never bragged or made us feel bad about not having kids. They certainly could have bragged, their daughter Grace could already play Chopin etudes with her feet…



Chris and Jane are excellent parents, so much so, that they decided the Rocky Mountains were a much better place to raise a family. Unfortunately for us, they moved to Colorado. Chris now works with his hands. He started his own business building homes and doing fine finish carpentry. Steven and Chris worked on a major remodeling project here in LA . Steven described Chris as a meticulous craftsman. Jane designed and implemented an incredible English wildflower garden at the site as well. I always used to say about Los Angeles, “Well at least Chris and Jane still live here.”

I miss them.

How will our adoption impact Chris and Jane?

Jane has set an excellent example for me. She has done all the right things.
I remember almost putting an ice cube made of homemade organic squash or something into my glass of water at their house. I remember touching the “way to go potty” stickers on Gracie’s chart in the bathroom. Gracie's room was filled with books. Gracie was learning about flowers, animals and how to catch ladybugs without harming them.

Chris had started a college fund for Grace by recycling bottles and cans. (That is a lot of bottles and cans!) Chris, simultaneously showed Grace the importance of taking care of the planet while saving your pennies.

Chris was honest about the struggles of caring for two little ones…



He also managed to express the joy that these struggles provided him...



I am sad that I haven’t seen the wee Riley in action yet. He was just a chunky, cheeky monkey the last time I got to hang out with him. Maybe we will be lucky enough to see him this summer.




I feel like although we no longer live in the same place, we will always be friends. I hope that when our kids are finally here, we can all meet somewhere, (preferably in the mountains) and enjoy a large juicy coconut cake.


Maybe we'll even dance to some cheesy Neil Diamond song.

I can’t wait.

Addendum:
So Steven just read this and was very upset that I used "cheesy" and Neil Diamond in the same sentence. Therefore, I am including the song from American Bandstand (How OLD are we?!).

He also asked me to include a poll.You be the judge of cheese. The poll is up above on the right hand side. Please vote. Chris and Jane please, only one vote apiece.

Days Like This...Kate.

Once in a while,

In a rare moment,

The Universe rights itself.

A young woman,

Out on her own,

Full of passion,

Ready to change the world,

Is rewarded.



Today brings an affirmation of something that I have known all along...

My sister matters. Her work is important. Her vision may move many. Her intelligence should be shared.

Ladies and Gentleman, may I present, my baby sister Kate... Assistant Professor, Tenure Track at REALLY BIG DEAL UNIVERSITY. Thousands of applicants...three finalists...one woman.

I am Proud.

World AIDS Orphan Day...

I know every Wednesday I post a funny (sometimes) picture. Well, here's a not so funny picture...

Today is World Aids Orphan Day. I feel like when I mention something like this I am "Preaching to the Choir." Most of the people that read this blog are adoptive moms. So, no soapboxing, but I didn't feel right just posting one picture today.


"World AIDS Orphans Day will occur on 7 May. More than 25 million children worldwide have lost one or both parents to AIDS – equivalent to the number of people living in New York, Paris, Rome and Bangkok combined. In sub-Saharan Africa alone, 12 million children have been orphaned by the pandemic."

Would you place children with these people...

In honor of the impending Mother’s Day, I thought that I would post this picture of my mom and me. This picture is funny because my mother and I showed up at my sister’s WEARING THE EXACT SAME OUTFIT. I had come in from California, and my mom had come in from Wisconsin. We had not discussed our choice of clothing, (or bag for that matter). If anyone is wondering if you really do turn into your mother, the proof is in the pudding. (I think that she even mentioned that she had a blue necklace that she brought but couldn’t get the clasp to work).

Have I turned into my mother?

I should be so lucky.

Best Reaction Ever...To The Idea of Ethiopian Adoption...

Teret Teret !!

One week ago today, we were fortunate enough to attend a gathering of local Ethiopian kids and their families. Pip and Squeak were there, and so was one of our favorite Mini Casanovas.

We met a man, Tsega, who was kind enough to tell all the kids a story in Amharic. He also told it in English so that everyone could understand it.

Ethiopian storytelling is interactive, and the children were called upon to do their part.

During the telling, and apparently for every story, the storyteller begins by saying...

"TERET TERET!"

The children are to respond with “YELAM BERET!."

I do not know the literal translation of these words. Steven thought Teret meant barn. I should have asked Tsega. Anyway, it was great! Pip, and Tsega's daughter Grace, did an excellent job of participating. Is there anything more fun than watching a group of children raptly listening to a story?

*Edit to say... Teret means, "Story with a moral". Teret Terek means, "Storyteller".

Storytelling is one of my favorite all time traditions. The ability to tell a story is something that I find quite enviable. It may be why we end up sending our kids to the local Waldorf-y public school.

The story itself was an Aesop-type fable involving a donkey and a deep well. I can't find anything to link to like it, but I did find an animated Ethiopian story that you can watch and listen to, in Amharic or English. Here is the Link. The animation is really cute.


In other news, I am happy to report that Steven and I are both vertical. Here was my cure, (made by Steven)....


Hatch Green Chile Posole...Does a body good. Teret Teret!!!

Friday Friend or Family Feature...

Today's Feature is...

The Flu!



I have the Flu. I was thinking of making this week's Friday Friend or Family Feature either the maker of NyQuill, who helped me finally sleep, or the genius who decided to add Aloe Vera to Kleenex, GENIUS.

I haven't been this sick in years. I guess it my comeuppance for the following statements I spit at Steven over this long flu season...

Me: Your immune system sucks.
Me: You need to take vitamins.
Me: If you took better care of yourself you wouldn't be sick right now.
Me: I'm sick of you being sick.


I reap what I sow.

Also, Steven's sciatica is back, really back. He couldn't walk for two days, and has been trying to get an appointment with the Dr. who helped him with this a couple of years ago. The treatment involves some sort of painful steroid/epidural type shots in the spine. Lovely.

The two of us are a sight to see.

I was picturing this same scenario with the additional of two small children. Uhm, what do I do then? How can I take care of my babies when even my teeth and fingernails ache? What do you families out there in cyberspace do when the whole household gets sick?

On the positive side, I was able to finish this book...


It is a harrowing account of an American couple's attempt to adopt an abandoned infant in Zimbabwe. You can read/listen to their story here.

It was a pretty suspenseful read, and it reminded me of this couple's heroic Haitian adoption.

So spend some time with those families. This family is down for the count.

CNN Hero of the Week...Yohannes Gebregeorgis.

This is Yohannes Gebregeorgis. He will be featured tonight, and this week on CNN. You can read about him here. If you have a chance, watch the videos, especially the Four-Legged Library video. Ethiopia Reads is a fantastic organization. Their link is in my side bar if you want more info.

Also, click here to see what one of my favorite families has done to contribute. Very inspirational. Is their daughter not the cutest Chilly Ethiopian you have ever seen? They also have more info about Yohannes in their most recent posting.

Not that I was shopping...

Would you place children with these people...

Ted is getting really tired of bedtime stories.

For all those still waiting to be moms...

Apron strings
Hanging empty crazy things
My body tells me
I want someone to tie to my
Apron strings

Apron strings
Waiting for you pretty things
That I could call you
I want someone to tie to my
Lonely apron strings.

Your baby looks just like you when you were young
And he looks at me with eyes that shine
And I wish that he were mine
Then I go home
To my
Apron strings
Cold and lonely,
For time brings
thoughts that only
Will be quiet when someone clings
to my apron strings.

And I'll be perfect in my own way
When you cry I will be there
I'll sing to you and comb your hair
All your troubles I will share

For apron strings
Can be used for other things
Than what they're meant for
and you'd be happy wrapped in my
Apron strings

You'd be happy wrapped in my
Apron strings

Enkuwan Le Berhane Tensayewu Adderesachu!

Today is Easter in Ethiopia (Fasika). I believe the post title means, "Happy Easter," but with the way my Amharic education is going it could also mean,"How do I get to the airport?"

Easter is a big deal in Ethiopia. It is more important than Christmas (Gena).

From Whats on When...

"Easter Friday is a day of preparation and church-going. People go and prostrate themselves in church, up and down, up and down one hundred and one times. The main religious mass takes place on Saturday night, a sombre, sacred occasion with music and dancing until the early hours of the morning."

I thought the Catholic mass was difficult, what with all the kneeling, and standing and sitting. I never really did get those movements right when I was growing up. Like a lemming I would just follow along. I followed my Dad for a while until I realized that he never stood, knelt, or sat at the right time. An old football injury had absolved him from the calisthenics.



One hundred and one times? These Orthodox Christians have been on a vegan diet for the fifty five days of lent leading up to Easter. Here is a video, but beware, the sound quality is poor.





"At three am, everyone returns home to break their fast and a chicken is slaughtered at midnight for the symbolic occasion. In the morning, after a rest, a sheep is slaughtered to commence the feasting on Easter Sunday."

Not exactly a visit from the Easter bunny. In fact, if I were the Easter bunny I would high-tail my little cotton tail right out of the vicinity.

I have gotten mixed advice from local Ethiopians in regards to attending one of their masses. Some are very encouraging and feel that we would be welcomed, others flatly say, "I wouldn't recommend it."

I am sure my prostrating would be all wrong anyway.

Happy How Do I Get to the Fasika!

Coincidence?

Friday Friend or Family Feature...

Today's Feature is...

My Aunt Mary!



The above picture is of my Grandma Jean, my Aunt Mary and me. I am the one wearing the festive hat. I love this picture. I feel like it is a bit symbolic. I feel that, in a way, my Aunt Mary has had her strong arms underneath me for some time now. I feel like she has been helping me keep my head up.



My Aunt Mary has always been extremely supportive. So many times I thought that she was the only one in the world who could really understand what I was going through. She has had challenges of her own in the family building department. She knows all too well the pain of pregnancy loss. Her thoughtful cards, knowing words, and loving encouragement have helped me immensely.


My Aunt Mary was the only person I knew personally who had adopted a child. She actually adopted two children, two beautiful daughters. It is some how reassuring to know someone who has done something that you are considering doing, before you actually do it. “Well, it turned out okay for Aunt Mary so it must not be too scary.”


My Aunt Mary has a beautiful family chock full of children, adopted and biological. Aunt Mary never pushed the idea of adoption on me. She let me get there on my own. Her support was constant. Her encouragement was only spoken when I asked her to speak it. My Aunt Mary, with her loving words and kind gestures has helped me to stand up, brush myself off and get myself together. She has, by example, led the way.



My sister Kate recently had the opportunity to attend a birthday celebration for my cousin Brenna. Kate said that at this celebration my Aunt Mary got up and made a speech. She told Brenna about the moment she heard that Brenna was going to be her daughter. She told her how excited she was. She described how incredibly happy she was then, and how thrilled she feels now to be her mom.




How will my adoption impact my Aunt Mary? My Aunt Mary is pretty incredible. She has a beautiful family and a successful career. She has a huge group of friends. Every Sunday night she has family dinner at her house. All are welcome. It is a sight to behold. Three generations, food, dogs, babies, dishes, ice cream. It is what you think of when you envision an enviable family dinner scene. I can’t wait until my kids get the opportunity to sit at that table and break bread with my Aunt Mary. They will be so lucky to sit next to this woman. She will never make them feel different or less important because they are adopted. She will embrace them in her strong, thin, beautiful arms. Whether they see her once a year or every Sunday night, they will know that they can always count on her for love and for support. My Aunt Mary knows how longed for these children are, how difficult it was finding our way to them, and what an incredible gift it will be to know them.

I can’t wait.

Thanks Aunt Mary.