Eleven Years and Counting

Just this weekend, Mark and I celebrated 11 years together since our first date. It's fun to remember how we were back then, how young and naive (I was 20 and Mark was 19). How did we get to that point? Let me tell you. :)

Mark and I "knew" each other in childhood. We grew up attending the same church, and our families were very active. So, Mark and I were involved in a lot of the same activities at church. But we didn't go to the same elementary or middle schools, and Mark was a grade behind me. Although we knew each other through church, we weren't friends... yet.

In my senior year of high school, I became heavily involved in our church's Youth Group. Mark did, too. We both had a very good work ethic, and were part of a core team who led the group. We got to know each other more personally, and began to "hang out" together at school as well. We would find each other before school and talk in the library, or walk "the loop" in the main building. Meeting in the morning became a regular thing with us, although we never spoke of it. Soon, I found that I had a crush on Mark and wanted him to ask me out.

I was not subtle about my crush, but I was also very cautious. Something inside said, "this could be serious - don't mess it up!!" So I showed interest, but not too much. And Mark showed interest, but didn't ask me out.

I remember that he would brush the snow off my car after Youth Group meetings, even though we were "just friends." And we would always end up sitting next to each other at the meetings. We had inside jokes that only we understood. All the signs were there that we were a good match. But Mark didn't ask me out.

After months of this, I figured he wasn't all that into me or something would have happened. So I started a relationship with another guy, just before graduation. The relationship lasted almost 3 years, during which I didn't see much of Mark at all (Mark went away to school, and I stayed home). But I never forgot him.

Toward the end of my relationship, I realized there was lots of things I needed in my partner that he couldn't provide. And I remembered how many of those things Mark had (or showed promise of having) when we were in high school. Mark was the most caring and sensitive young man I had known, and I could foresee what he would be as a husband and father to my children. He had strong faith, the same faith I had. He was hard-working, careful, giving, intelligent, funny. He became a yardstick by which I measured other men. I decided to end the relationship with my boyfriend. And then fate [*God*] intervened.

Mark was home from school for Thanksgiving break, which I knew because I had friendships with his younger brother and sister. A group of us from church decided to get together for a night of games and fun, and I invited Mark. I decided (with lots of encouragement from my big sister Becky) that I would use that night to ask Mark on a date for the next day. During the party, the time ticked on and I couldn't find the courage to ask. Becky called me on the phone periodically to find out if I had asked yet... and to provide me the kick in the pants I needed when she heard I hadn't. The party was ending, and I was chickening out. But, I knew if I didn't do it, there would be heck to pay with Becky. So, as Mark was heading out the door, I casually asked if he wanted to see a movie the next day. He accepted.

The date went great, and we caught up on so much that had happened in 3 years. It was comfortable and fun and casual and sweet and EASY. And I knew that we were starting where we left off, but we were starting as adults and not children, and that the stakes this time were much higher. And that "this really could be serious - so don't mess it up!!"

Thanks to God, I didn't.

Cousin Lovin' (part 2)

We've been having such a fun month! Over Thanksgiving, we were fortunate to see my sister Bobbi's family from out of state. The kids loved having them visit for Thanksgiving lasagna (we were having a traditional Thanksgiving the next day, and I didn't want us to get turkeyed-out). Abby's and Ethan's cousins range from 13 to 17 years old. It was great to see them!!

Abby with her cousin, Erik. It was shocking to me that he is now taller than I am! He looks so cute with his longer hair, even if you can only see one eye. ;)

Aubrey (Bree) had fun playing with Ethan. She is growing into such an impressive young woman!

Abby and Ethan were playing "knock all of the computer cartridges onto the floor" with Ben and Erik. Uncle Leif was the pick-up man.

Ben is a kid-magnet, Ethan had such a blast with him! Mark was happy to realize he and Ben have the same geek-sense. I'll have a few words of warning for his future wife! :)

Kelsey had fun showing Abby how to play on the computer. Abby can learn a thing or two from her bright and focused cousin!

Cousin Lovin' (part 1)

Well, we are in the last week of the visit from Tracy, Lana, and David (see this post for details). Yesterday, Tracy's husband Jeremy flew in for a 4 day visit as well (yeah!!) We've been having so much fun playing together, and we were so excited to have the 3 of them spend 4 nights at our house. The kids just love to get together, and 3 toddlers playing provides lots of opportunity to practice sharing {smile}. Here are some pictures from our visit so far.

Abby's giving Lana a "head-hug." It's rare to have them sitting still for long enough to get a picture, so this was precious!

Ethan and Lana were walking and holding hands at a farm we went to. Soooo cute!

Abby is such a little mommy! She is always holding out her hands to hold David, and loves to make him laugh. Ethan is giving him a hug, too.

Ethan LOVES David (or, "baby!" as he likes to say). He thinks "Day-did" is so funny.

Abby is helping David play the piano. She is very concerned that he's having fun.

Abby is getting ready to shower Lana with leaves.

Mark's Wish Comes True

Picture this: it's the middle of winter, and a blanket of white snow has been laid upon the ground. It's perfect, wet, packing snow. A man stands in a yard, surveying a very large "snow ogre." Adding the final touches, he hears a car slow down behind him. The driver rolls down his window and says, "it got too cold for the kids, huh?" The man smiles and laughs in reply, and the car drives away.

That man is my husband, Mark. This happened 4 years ago. And the reality is - there weren't any kids that it "got too cold" for. Mark was outside building a snowman by himself! He's always loved to play in the snow, whether he's 5 or 30. And he's always wished for kids that want to do the same (he discovered early on that it wasn't going to be his wife that shared his passion).

Today, the first flakes of snow hit the ground at our house. Abby noticed right away and cried out, "it's snowing!" Last spring, when the snow no longer flew, Abby was distressed for a month. She would look at me with baleful eyes and question, "snow?" I had to explain that the snow was gone, but would be back. She looked skeptical, but today proved it to her.

Abby turned to Daddy and said "snowman!" She ran to get her boots, coat and mittens. She, Daddy and Ethan donned their snow attire quickly. Before the snow had been falling for 10 minutes, they were outside in the backyard, treking through a dusting of snow, braving the horrible winds that we get here. But Abby was in heaven. When 5 minutes had passed, Mark brought them in because it was so bitter. And Abby cried. She's her Daddy's girl, and her Daddy is so excited that this winter will be his most fun yet.

Living in "The Twos"

I am the youngest of four girls... by a landslide. My sisters are 13, 12 and 10 years older than I am. In some ways, it has made me feel I was missing out on the closeness they share, the growing-up-together they did. In many ways, I was like an only child because my childhood was so seperated from theirs. But, despite being jealous of having siblings close in age, having *much* older sisters is ultimately a blessing. They have all "been there" before me, and I can learn from them. They impart their wisdom upon me, which I appreciate.

My sisters are all excellent moms (I'm not just saying that because they might be reading this!) They are all loving, nurturing, involved parents with awesome children. Their parenting styles are very different from one another, but each has aspects of their parenting that Mark and I admire and try to incorporate into our parenting. Becky is intimately involved with at least one activity with each child (boy scouts/soccer/religion classes/etc.), and always has been. With five kids, that's certainly not easy to do, but she makes time for all of them. Bobbi is one of the most family-focused people I know. Her kids never have to guess if they're a priority, because Bobbi is always looking out for their best interests in whatever she does. And my youngest sister, Bonnie, has such calmness with her kids. Even when she is at her wits end, she is calm and controlled with my nephew and niece (how did she do it during "the twos"?). My sisters are now and always have been an important source of wisdom for me.

Yesterday, I spoke with my middle sister, Bobbi. I was filling her in on the latest antics of the kids, exasperated about the things they've gotten into lately. She told me to soak in every minute, good and bad, because this time is over so quickly.

Over so quickly? Abby started "the twos" at 18 months, and is in this stage full-swing. Ethan is just at the cusp of this period, starting to test me at every turn. It hardly feels quick when you're in it. But, of course, my older and wiser sister is right. If I blink, it will be over and I will yearn for those days of innocence again.

So here is a tribute to the recent activities of Abby and Ethan in "the twos." Sometimes, the moments are terrible. And others are terrific. I'm just trying to soak them all in.

Abby was very upset because I asked her to say cheese. She didn't want to.
Ethan has perfected the scowly face.
Abby figured out how to open doors this last week, so we had to buy doorknob covers (which she is trying to figure out in this picture). Earlier this week, I found her (with her cousin, Lana) halfway down the basement stairs.Ethan likes to climb up and stand on things like this chest - the kitchen table has also become a favorite.

Our little nudist like to take off her clothes when no one's looking.

But just when I'm about to pull out more of my hair, there is an impromptu kiss through the slider door. Too precious.

And I came running when I heard the giggling to find these two "twos" spontaneously dancing in the living room.

I have to grin when I see Ethan's smiling "scrunchy-face."

And Abby's laugh makes everyone join in.

Play area non-fun

We want to know what you think! Please comment to this post!
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Our family loves to go to the play area at the mall. It's a great place for the kids to burn off some energy. It's a good environment for the kids to learn how to cooperate with other kids. And best of all, it's FREE!

We went to a play area this evening that we frequent. It has tunnels, things to climb on, and best of all (in Abby's opinion) 2 fast-moving slides. What more could you ask for? Tonight, the play area was fairly busy with kids. And, the level of inappropriate play was off the charts. There were 5 kids climbing UP the slides while other kids were waiting to go down. There was pushing and shoving on the stairs. There was unexplained screams of pain coming from tunnels. It was outrageous. After a couple of minutes of watching kids climb up slides without consequence, Mark and I united and began to take control of the situation. These kids parents were nowhere to be found, or if they were there, they were doing nothing while their children hurt other children or played unfairly.

We started with the 10 year old boy - "It's against the rules to climb the slides." Moving on to the 8 year old girl - "You cannot cut in line in front of 0ther kids who are waiting." We stopped the slide-climbers in their tracks and things began to run more smoothly.

After about 15 minutes, Mark found himself face-to-face with an angry mom. You see, her school-aged son had been climbing up the slide and pushed an unsteady toddler off the side in his ascent. The little girl fell from 2 or 3 feet, and began to cry. While her mother tended to her, Mark immediately told the boy that he couldn't climb the slide and that he needed to watch out for other children.

The boy's mom was angry. She walked up to Mark and told him to stop telling her boy what to do, and that she can't help that his daughter is so clumsy(?!). Mark explained that the boy had pushed her off the slide, and she wasn't even his daughter but he felt someone had to step in. The mother retorted, "this is a play area, and he was just playing." Then, the mother of the toddler came to Mark's aid and reiterated that the boy had pushed her daughter, and why wasn't he being watched anyway? The boy's mother backed down and told her son "we have to go now," and off they went. The boy didn't apologize to the toddler or her mother. His mom didn't apologize either.

My question is this: what should Mark and I do in this type of situation? Our children have been pushed, hit, cut in front of, climbed on, sat on, and hugged aggressively at public play areas. We also witness children doing dangerous things to other children. Sometimes, the parent comes over and disciplines their child or apologizes for their behavior when this happens. If not, we ALWAYS tell the other child to stop hurting our children (or other children). It is a rare parent that actually sees us "discipline" their child in this way, actually, because they are either not present or not paying attention to their child.

There are lots of ways to handle these situations, we realize. And I'm sure there are lots of opinions about the best ways or the right ways to handle them. I'm guessing there are some out there who are appalled that we would step in with children who are not our own. We want to know what you think!! Please, please comment on this post by clicking the "comment" link at the bottom of it (if you like, you can comment anonymously). I want to see lots and lots and lots of feedback on this topic, from parents and non-parents, old and young, male and female. This is an important issue that can be very controversial, and we want weigh your opinions. Thanks!

I don't have the stretch marks to prove it

It seems that once you're a MOM, you start associating yourself with other moms. No matter where you go, you seek other moms out and they seek you out. You give a knowing smile when someone's child is acting up in the grocery store. You join mothers' groups. You see moms at the playground. You tell other moms how cute their kids are when walking through the mall. Moms are everywhere, and you are now one of them!

One of the main mommy topics is: giving birth. I hear moms talking in almost any setting about their children's birth stories. Were they induced? Did they receive any pain medication, and how "natural" was the birth? Did they have a home birth? How long was labor? Did they tear (what a pleasant topic of conversation)? Was a c-section required or even pre-scheduled? Every aspect of birthing is fair game for a mom-to-mom discussion.

I cannot participate in these discussions. I have never given birth. In fact, I have never been pregnant. I've done research on pregnancy, read countless books and articles on the topic, listened to many moms discuss their pregnancies. I know what to expect should I become pregnant. I know what to expect should I be required to deliver a baby (Lord knows the other moms have filled me in on all the gory details). I'm very well "prepared" should anything happen in that area. But after almost 6 years of not preventing pregnancy (to no avail), I'm pretty sure that pregnancy is not in my future.

Early on, when we realized that pregnancy was unlikely, I was sad. Sad that our plan was not being realized (at least, the first part of the plan - we were hoping to have 1 or 2 biological children first, and then adopt). I was mostly heartbroken that it didn't appear I would experience the joy of pregnancy (kicking babies!) and the after-joy of nursing. These would be things I couldn't cross off of my "To Do Before I Die" list. Sigh.

But coming to the decision to adopt was easy for Mark and I. We had discussed adoption early on in our dating, and both viewed it as a meaningful way to grow our family. We were uncomfortable with most treatments to make ourselves "fertile." So adoption was something we were excited to pursuit - it wasn't mearly a last resort when all other fertility treatments failed. We jumped into the adoption arena with both feet! I do not grieve over my inability to achieve pregnancy anymore - I celebrate our ability to parent through adoption.

I rejoice in other moms' pregnancies and deliveries - these are God-given miracles and gifts. And I wouldn't lessen their experiences by asking that they not speak of them in front of me. I am extremely comfortable with and proud of how we've become a family. I believe that my God-given gift is the gift of being an adoptive parent. I am meant to be an adoptive mom. I "click" with our kids' birthfamilies. I am not threatened by the level of openness they want with my children. I cannot imagine that I would be threatened by the level of openness my children want with their birthfamilies. I am their mom. Their birthfamilies love them, too, and there can NEVER be too many people to love my kids. I love my children's birthfamilies, and feel that God has brought us all together for a reason.

So keep talking, moms! Tell me about the contractions, the back-pain, the crowning, all of it. And I will tell you about how it felt to get the phone call telling me we were parents for the first time. Or how amazing it was to be invited to witness my son's birth. These are my birth stories.

Just Lion Around with Cookie Monster

Here are a few pictures of our Halloween trick-or-treaters. Abby is fanatical about lions right now, and was so excited about her costume (especially her painted nose). Ethan is a big fan of Cookie Monster, so he had to be the blue monster for Halloween (complete with cookie jar treat holder).




We have a ton of candy left over, plus what the kids collected in the neighborhood. So if you notice Mark and I gaining 10 pounds in the next month, you'll know why! And if you're in the neighborhood, drop by and yell Trick-or-Treat - we're sure to have a few goodies for you. ;)

Wiggly Bare Naked Ladies (oh my!)

Our family enjoys listening to music. We play music in the car, at home, and we sing all day long. But as much as we love music, we rarely get to a concert. I think Mark and I have seen 3 or 4 concerts in all of our dating/married years. The last one we went to was on New Years Eve, and I think the year was 1999. The band: Bare Naked Ladies [a stunned silence comes over the older generation]. The band is actually made of men, and their lyrics are not lewd - don't worry! That concert was great, but it was nothing like the concert we went to today. It's amazing how your tastes change when kids come along.

Today, we took our kids to their first big-venue concert experience. You know, the kind of event that requires a call to TicketMaster to arrange. We went and saw Abby's and Ethan's favorite children's group, The Wiggles. The concert was a little over an hour, and Mark and I enjoyed every minute of it. Abby sat stunned for the first half, then warmed up and participated in the second half. Ethan was entranced at first, but soon his 17 month-old attention span got the better of him and he was more interested in playing with the stadium seats than watching the action on the stage. Over all, it was worth it to give the kids their first taste of live music in an arena. We had fun! And of course, Mama sang every song. ;)

The Wiggles drove on stage in their Big Red Car. We had good seats, and could see all the action on stage.







Murray Wiggle (the red Wiggle) walked through the audience in the beginning and we were lucky enough to be seated in the right section! Abby's eyes were as big as saucers when he came about 5 feet away... I think she realized that we weren't watching TV, but the action was live!

We were a captive audience, clapping along with the songs.







Abby's favorite is Jeff Wiggle (the purple Wiggle). He is always falling asleep, and Abby was so excited that we got to call out "Wake up, Jeff!"during the conert.

About 3 minutes into the ride home, two exhausted toddlers couldn't keep their eyes open any longer. It was the end of a fun new experience!

Dog Days of Autumn

Well, just as everyone was getting over our week-long colds, another member of our family had a health concern. Our older dog, Casey, suffered an ear hematoma on Thursday. It basically means that her chronic ear infections have caused her to scratch her ear flap so much that she ruptured blood vessels inside. The skin actually separated from the cartilage, and a pocket was formed that filled with blood. Apparently, it is a common occurance in dogs. She had surgery yesterday to reattach the skin and cartilage (lots of stitches), which went without incident.


Unfortunately, she has to wear a cone for 2 weeks to prevent her from scratching her ear. Our other dog, Maggie, was so glad to have Casey back home... she is a little skittish about the cone, though. Ethan immediately noticed her "hat," and Abby proclaimed it "cute." Casey acts completely normal despite wearing a giant piece of plastic on her head - in fact, she is dying to play fetch. Sorry, CaseyFace, you have to take it easy until the stitches are out!

They've finally arrived!!

After what seems like forever, Mark's sister Tracy and her two kids have arrived in Michigan for a month-long visit - yippee!! Their family moved to Florida 4 months ago, and we've missed them so much. The four cousins' ages break down as follows: Abby-26 months, Lana-23 months, Ethan-17 months, David-5 months. We are going to have a blast while they're here visiting. Here are some pictures from today's reunion. I'm sure there will be more posts to follow in the next month, as the 3 toddlers and 1 infant rediscover each other.

Ethan has missed Aunt Tracy a lot - when he wouldn't tolerate being held by anyone other than Mom a few months ago, Aunt Tracy was on his short list. He gave her about 100 hugs today, and was very upset if she walked out of sight from him.





Here's a picture of Lana - a bit blurry, but she is on the go and won't stop for a photo op! she seems so different in just 4 months; taller, her speech has taken off, and she's got a *little* bit of toddler sass now (I love it!!)



David has changed a TON since we saw him at 1 month old. What a chubby boy - built just like Ethan was at his age. He smiles huge now, but I really liked this inquisitive look. Cutie pie!




Abby is not usually very cuddly, but she snuck in on Aunt Tracy for this hug. She giggled tons at her silly aunt.

Just say, "Abby, make a silly face!"

And here is what you get.

(Photo taken 9/27)

Remembering healthier times...

... like last weekend, when we weren't sick yet. Mark is off to the doctor today (sinus infection?), and I'm getting ready to take a nap with the kids. Here are some pictures from a day at the park, taken just last weekend before illness struck our house.

Abby is such a sweet girl, dancing in the leaves.

Ethan likes to lay in the sand. I love his expression.

Mark was sprinkling leaves on them, which made Abby giggle.

Abby is getting very good on the gym equipment. She's always been brave.

A beautiful boy and his Daddy.

Coughing and fevers and runny noses, oh my!

Our house is usually bustling with play. Abby and Ethan always seem to find something fun to do, and its generally noisy, messy or both. Yeehaw!

These last two days have been relatively silent, except for the occasional spacing out in front of TV. Ethan has bronchitis, as diagnosed by the urgent care center on Friday morning. He had been up MOST of Thursday night, coughing and feverish. By Friday morning, his cough was more of a bark and he was wheezing terribly. So, off to the med center we went. After 2 hours and a chest x-ray ruling out pneumonia, the doctor proclaimed it to be bronchitis. We were sent home with a steroid prescription and told to get plenty of rest and fluids and ride it out. Today, to add insult to injury, he developed a really runny nose in addition to his other ailments.

Abby has been sluggish herself. She's been coughing (though not as much as Ethan), and has also been feverish. Today she lost her voice (poor squeeky baby!), but her spirits were up and she played today much more than yesterday. Yesterday was one of our "Slug Days."

Usually, we use a Slug Day as a Mental Health Day. When I was working, my boss respected an occasional Mental Health Day - a day off where no one was sick, but you just needed a break from work. Some days my family just needs a break from our regular routine, and enjoy staying in our pajamas all day playing, getting messy, watching movies, eating on the floor if we want and not worrying too much about rules and responsibility. It's an amazing pick-me-up. Sometimes, though a Slug Day is required to care for one or more of us being ill.

Yesterday, no one showered. I admit, I had to get dressed (just to take Ethan to the med center), but no one else did (including Mark). We relaxed, napped, read books, sung songs, watched The Wiggles and vegged out. It's unfortunate that the kids didn't feel well, but a good side-benefit was that it really helped recharge me. I've been holding one or both of my kids a lot over the last two days, and relishing the cuddle time we've had. Mark has actually been enjoying taking care of Ethan in the night (despite a clear lack of sleep), seeing it as bonding time for the two of them. I will be glad when my kids feel better, but will *selfishly* miss the snuggle-time we have been having.

Sometimes, you just need that time.

One thought leads to another

As I was laying in bed last night, my mind was racing with things to do. One of the things I want to do soon is ask Ethan's birthfamily to send him a letter (subsequent posts on Abby and Ethan's birthfamilies to follow). I thought to myself, I should send them some self-addressed stamped envelopes to make it easy for them.

Suddenly, I had a flashback to a different time where I had made self-addressed stamped envelopes. In some ways, that time seems like a million years ago. In others, it feels like yesterday.

We don't talk much about our failed adoption any more. We seem so busy with our two children that it rarely comes into conversation. But it creeps into my thoughts at the most unexpected moments, and can bring me to tears in a second.

The first year and a half of our adoption pursuits were busy. I spent my time working on finding the adoption situation that was right for us. My days were filled with networking ("if you know of anyone considering adoption, please let them know about us"), adoption tear-sheets set up at grocery stores, a Val-Pak advertisement, a 1-800 birthmother line, and advertisements in local newspapers promising a "loving couple who looks forward to lots of fun with a baby." It was one of these ads that lead birthmother C. to us.

C. was 5 months pregnant at the time, and was looking at adoption because she could not afford another child. She knew it would be a tremendous financial burden and would require more emotional resources than she had at the time, in order to raise another baby. She was a single mom with 5 other children from 14 years to 18 months. She realized that her youngest children were almost being raised by her 14 year old (in fact, C. had held her out of school for a year to help with the kids). She didn't want that life for her 14 year old, and didn't want that life for another baby.

She was looking through the adoption ads in the paper, and reading them out loud. She read ours, and the baby kicked. "It must be a sign!" she said when she called me that day. And soon enough, I believed in the sign, too.

Over the next 4 months, C. and I got to know each other. I spoke with her almost daily on the phone. I came to sympathize with her troubles: a 16 year relationship with a man who drank too much and was rarely available for his 5 children (and was currently not living with them because of his drinking); a child who was in trouble almost daily at school which resulted in suspensions; a mother who thought C. was doing a bad job with her children; her loss of job because of her pregnancy; and the list went on. She seemed to have sound reasons for choosing adoption, and seemed to realize that the best place for her child was probably not in her family.

Mark and I got to know C.'s family well. Her children loved Mark's sense of humor and always wanted to play with him. Her mother really appeared to like us, as did her sister. They supported her adoption decision.

Along the way, there were red flags that the adoption may not happen. Her reluctance to deal with an adoption professional. Her claim that the birthfather was in agreement about the plan, but yet his paperwork got "lost in the mail" on the way to the adoption attorney. Her children (2 in particular) were against the adoption plan and were very vocal about it. There were definitely some questions we had leading up to the birth, but we remained hopeful.

2 days before C.'s labor was to be induced, we got together with her family. A last hurrah before everyone's lives were to change. We finally met C.'s boyfriend. It was a really nice day. At the end, C. told me that she had been so worried about the actual adoption over the last week, but our evening had affirmed her decision to place the baby for adoption. She felt no worries about it, and loved us so very much. We drove away feeling pretty sure the adoption would happen, and we would be parents in 2 short days - July 8, 2003.

On the 8th, Mark and I got to the hospital first and waited for C. to arrive with her mom and 14 year old daughter. We had our diaper bag, camera bag, bag of things to do while C. was laboring. We were prepared, darn it! When the 3 arrived, I immediately knew something was wrong. C. looked like she hadn't slept a wink and didn't smile. While she was being admitted, her mom said that C. was having a hard time with the adoption plan, and she wasn't sure how it would turn out. We sat in the waiting room, and awhile later the hospital social worker came to talk to us. She had spoken with C., and reiterated that C. was having a hard time handling her decision. But, C. really wanted us at the hospital that day while she tried to make her decision.

I wanted to run away. I wanted to go home and get in bed and cry myself to sleep. I didn't want to have to wait all day feeling so crushed while C. made up her mind. But, Mark and I decided to stay, even if it meant suffering.

A lot happened that day. It was emotionally draining for us. We tried to keep our interactions with C. positive, and tried to give her space to make her important decision. I cried tons in the parking lot and the bathroom. Mark became numb to the situation, becoming seemingly emotionless. We waited for what seemed like years. And finally, late in the afternoon, C. gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

After the baby was born, C.'s daughter asked us to come to see C. and the baby. I didn't want to. C.'s daughter insisted that C. wanted us there. So we reluctantly went. The room was filled with C.'s friends and family. I couldn't even look at the baby who was being bathed by the nurse - I knew it would be too painful for me. C. looked tired, and in no mood to talk. I went to her and told her that we were going to leave and that she could call our cell phone.

I talked to C. a few times during her hospital stay. She kept telling me that she knew that adoption was the right decision, but it was just so hard. She was obviously struggling. I ended every conversation telling her to get in touch with her adoption attorney if she wanted to choose adoption. I always hung up unsure of her next actions.

After 2 days, C. finally went home with her baby, telling her social worker that she was just going to take him home for a couple days to see how the baby would work in her family. We never heard from her again.

A week later, I found the self-addressed stamped envelopes I had prepared for C.'s family to write to our son. I remember being so hopeful when I put them together. They were going to be included in our first update packet to her family, with pictures of our baby. They were going to help keep our families in communication with one another in the open adoption situation that we both wanted.

I had no way of knowing that 7 weeks later, Abby would become our "meant-to-be" daughter. I just knew that this baby was not our "meant-to-be" son, and it hurt. I think of him sometimes, wondering what his life is like now. When he turned 2 this summer, I remembered him. I pray for his health and happiness and hope that he will become all that God wants for him to be.

I miss the boy I never knew.

Why Team MEAT?

Why not Team TEAM? Or Team TAME? Or the most appropriate, Team MATE??

It's just the funniest, that's all.

Laundry Day

I love to do laundry. I admit it. I love the whole process... the sorting, the pre-treating, the washing, the drying, the folding, the putting away. It's my favorite chore. Everything looks so nice when it's been put away in the drawers, the socks all lined up, the shirts folded just so. It's almost an obsession of mine... which is why it's hard to give away any control of it. I rarely want Mark to help, even.

Today, I recruited my little *female* helper to "help" me with the 5 loads of laundry I had to do. Mostly, because she was underfoot and bored, and needed something constructive to channel her energy. But, I have to say, Abby is on her way to being her Mama's protege! I'm so proud. And I learned what a very valuable tool recruiting a helper can be to a busy parent who just needs 5 minutes to switch the loads of laundry.

So here are the 4 steps to helping Mama with the laundry (for a 2 year old).

Step 1. Line up all of the hangers you will need --- the backs of bar stools work very well for this task.








Step 2. Sort the laundry by moving it from the hamper to the laundry basket and then back again. Repeat.











Step 3. Bring Mama the laundry basket when she asks.











Step 4. "Fold the laundry." This consists of moving the clean laundry from one side of the laundry basket to the other and smashing it down into a very wrinkly heap.









After today, I believe that you can never start too early in laundry training. :)

4 haircuts for $2.99

It all began in June. I went to a new haircut salon near us for my usual haircut (the Mommy-on-the-go, "flippy-uppy" haircut I have been enjoying recently). Since the salon was new, they were giving haircuts for $2.99 - what a deal! After waiting almost an hour, the stylist sat me in the chair and talked my ear off while she cut my hair.

Last week, I went in to the same salon for another haircut. My hair was looking really bad by then, as it had been 10 weeks since my previous haircut. I find it very difficult to actually get out and get a haircut, since it requires that I pre-plan and arrange for Mark to have the kids while I'm out. A haircut is something that ALWAYS happens about 3 weeks after it should.

Anyway, I had a different stylist this time (one of the salon managers), and after looking up what I had done last time in their fancy computer (1 inch off the interior, 3 inches off the bottom), she started to look at my hair. After a few minutes of playing with my hair, I started to wonder what was holding up my haircut. Why the close examination? Did I have lice or something? Was there a bald spot I didn't know about?

Finally, she said, "this is all wrong!" and showed me what my last haircut looked like. After holding up some of my layers from the front and then the back, it became obvious that my last stylist had only cut the layers on one side of my head! There was a 1 inch discrepancy ("1 inch off the interior"), and it looked really terrible. I had never noticed in the last 3 months. The stylist/manager was really appalled, and told me that I was not going to be paying for today's haircut. She then fixed my hair, and made sure that the layers were perfect. She rang me up for a free haircut, and after giving her a generous tip, I left the salon very pleased with the way that the problem was handled, and certain that I would be returning.

The next day, there was a letter in the mail from the salon, apologizing for the lack of quality. Enclosed was a coupon for a free haircut.

Yesterday, there was a second letter in the mail from the salon. The same letter as before, with the same coupon for a free haircut.

So.... one bad haircut for $2.99 has [so far] resulted in 3 free haircuts. The lesson I have learned from all of this: don't be afraid to try new places - you can really get some amazing deals!

Incidentally, I won't use the 2 free haircut coupons (I'd feel too guilty). Scratch that - I will use one to have them fix Ethan's hair (I have been butchering the back for 4 months now, and I need a little lesson in what to do!) But I will again tip generously!