No Streamers? Fingerprinting & Hidden Toilets

The approval came in from CHI yesterday.

For all my concern and impatience last week, I have to admit it was nice that it came back so soon.

CHI (Children's Hope International) is the agency we have decided to pursue the adoption process through. I guess it was more of a "feeling" for us as far as who we were going with. We talked with others, swapped phone calls, and looked at websites, CHI just came out on top.

We are really excited. It is sort of difficult to transfer how I felt when we got the letter.

It was business like. No streamers popped out when you opened it. A nice letter. Streamers would have been a cool touch though. I guess now it really hits me, time to work. So many things I want to do. So many things that need to be taken care of. Generally I (T) respond to situations over which I have little or no control by working on things that I can control. Like our old bathroom.

So, next stop, fingerprinting. That could be fun.

I guess.

I imagine there is a line associated with that.
-you are in the wrong line
-you are at the wrong courthouse
-hey, the line starts back there
Or worse, waiting with a number in our hands
-sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair
-flourescent lights humming far too loud
Or even worse, making an appointment, then waiting in a line.
-we are so sorry, Mr. Y%$#& called in sick today, can you reschedule
-can you all excuse me while I take this call
Or the worst, waiting in a line for a number to get an appointment, to wait in line.
-we just ran out of numbers, can you come back after 3
-42, 42 , 42, 42, oh sorry, 4, 2, 4, 2. Just have a seat 42, we'll be with you shortly
-yeah man, we're in the 3:00 group too, 3:00 yesterday

I am dissappointed. I heard they do not use ink anymore. I do like fingerpaints. It would be like the prize at the end of the.............line.

I (T) have lucked out in that she (J) is much more organized and patient than I could ever claim to be.

We have two notebooks now.

One for the homestudy part of this.
One for everything else.

I (T) imagine there will be several more notebooks, each with a different customized cover, in fairly short order.

For my part in the beginning, I(T) finished tearing out the old bathroom today. No organization there, just a sledge hammer, a shovel, and a bandanna to keep out the sixty year old concrete.

I (T) am pretty difficult to deal with on these around the home projects. Generally, I have a problem getting past the initial shock of "oh my lord, I just cut a hole in the (insert noun here)."

We are trying to decide if we want to keep the floor. It is kind of cool in a dated, and homey sort of way. (Not retro, I hate that word)

I still need to get the tub out of there.

Maybe tomorrow.

The toilet has been gone for a year.

It is always funny to direct people into a bathroom with no toilet.

Of course we know where the other is hidden.

Deadlines & Dark Roux

Today, I (T) got a bit worked up.

(T)"Did you hear anything"
(J)"No"
(T)"No?"
(J)"Yes, no"
(T)"I'll just call them tomorrow"
(J)"I don't think the timeline said we'd get a letter or e-mail when the first application comes in."
(T)"Well, e-mail *&^%$#@! and see how long it took them to hear."

on and on and on and on....................................

I (T) am a deadline person. At work, we live and die every thirty seconds or so. Is the stock up to a simmer, is that roux ready, how is your station, are the (insert a million different plural nouns here) done........

She (J), not so much so. A class full of young ones is much more organic, less regimented, more fluid, than the timeclock I live by. Thank goodness. A counterweight to my timeclock. Thank goodness.

This waiting, looking in the mailbox, constantly checking my e-mail, looking for the postman, is a foreign thing to me. I am fairly accustomed to my world of instant gratifiaction.

How does it taste?
How does it look?
Is the dining room happy?
The comforting salinity of an Apalchicola oyster.
The crackle of cornbread against my fingertips.

This waiting. The application. The pictures (spending hours taking a thousand different pictures of our home) that I (T) believes no one will really look at. By the way, the ones you see here are the ones we sent.

I (T) have never been good at this.

Waiting.

A week into it. I'm not crazy.

Yet.

Just anxious.

I (T) like people to call me. "hey, we got it."
"Yeah, I know. I watched the tracking number on Fed-ex's website until V. )(*&^% signed for it."

Deadline met.

We still haven't shared with you all where we are adopting from.
Kazakhstan.

Why in the world would you go there?

(part of) Everything we heard:
"It's run by the mafia"
"What, Pakistan?"
"Why not China?"
"It is not an established program"
"It is more an art than a science"
"It is a crazy place"

At the end of the day, it is where our feelings lead us. It is, no doubt, a "long and winding road" (Thanks Led Zeppelin)

I (T) cannot really say, this is who, what, when, and where, that lead us to this point. I (T) can say it is where we belong.

Hoping the deadlines work out. Hoping the paperwork and everything else work out. Hoping someone somewhere takes a deadline as seriously as I (T) do.

I smell the roux. I know it is almost there.

Waitin' for a Miracle

It happened today. It. It. It happened today. We sent it off. Fed Ex picked it up. A strange looking guy, a cross between Jon-Michael, who none of you know and Lupe', who none of you know, carried it away. I photo copied every bit of it. I put it in a folder and sealed it it up. I have its tracking number. I have the photocopies. It gets to Brentwood, Tennessee in the morning.

It is the beginning of our family. It is a toe, dipped in the murky water of international adoption. It is our future. It is a little packet of information. The last eleven years, condensed into seven pages of questions: medical, financial, personal.

For days, we have obsessed, fretted, disagreed, and worried over what we would put in it.

"Just answer the question."
"I did answer the question."
"Why are you asking me then?"
"I don't know."

That is the last few weeks wrapped up in a nutshell.

For a year, Maizy, our boxer has sat and looked out of our front window. "What is she looking for, " a thousand times I asked. I know now. I know what it is.

For all of you that have helped this far, and that will help in the days to come, thanks. Thank you. Thank you.

We will forget to say that, wrapped up in the journey that lies ahead. So again, as always, thank you all.