Friday Night Happenings

Good morning all, I'm sitting at my kitchen table eating choc. chip cookies and drinking coffee for breakfast. It's part of my "eat all the sugar you can in the first hour your up" diet. Then in an hour-and-a-half my blood sugar can plummet, and if I don't eat something immediately, I'll feel sick. It's a very practical well-rounded diet. You should only attempt it while under the care and watchful observation of a professional (or not).

Andrew just got home from my sister Sarah's house. It's the only place he's ever stayed the night. It's the only place he will stay the night. I think it's because my 8 year old nephew lives there (which makes sense since he is Sarah's son), and the fact that when he stays with Sarah he can do whatever he wants. Don't want to take a bath, even though you stink? Don't worry, you don't have to. Want to eat pizza and chocolate milk for breakfast? Sure, no problem. I think it's payback for all the things we let my nephew get away with when he was little. Although, I must say that while I will eat secretly shove cookies in my mouth for breakfast, I would never allow my child to do that. Boo! Hiss! Boo! Mom is no fun.

So last night Patrick and I had a night to ourselves. We decided to brave the insane traffic and headed into Austin. We ate at Pappadeux. I love their crawfish etouffe. I could eat it everyday. Actually, if I'm ever on death row it will be my request for my last meal. If I'm ever on death row, we've got bigger problems than what I eat for my last meal. After that we still had time to kill and no kid to encumber us, so we headed to Round Rock to IKEA. Okay first of all, I've never been to IKEA. That place is ridiculously massive. I was not wearing the right shoes to trek 26.2 miles through IKEA. Some of you will get that, some of you won't. In case you don't know, 26.2 miles is the distance of a marathon. If you already know that, I apologize for explaining it to you.

I have never seen so much stuff in my life. I wasn't overly impressed with the furniture*, but if I was still in college that would be the place to buy furniture for my apartment. When it came to organizational stuff, I was in heaven. I love to organize, and if you're going to organize that is the place to be. I've also decided that if we need to buy a crib, we will buy it there. They are cheap and small, and since we are not adopting a baby-baby we won't need one for long. What exactly is a baby-baby you ask? Oh yeah that's the super technical (i.e. Courtney) term for a baby under a year old. Actually, even if we do end up with a younger one, I still think we'll buy a crib there. And I liked some of the other stuff in the kid's section. Their kid's beds are pretty cute, but we already have all the furniture for our little girl's room, and I've learned that there is no need to spend a fortune on a crib. So we didn't buy anything, but when the announcer guy came on the intercom and said "IKEA will be closing in 5 minutes" it was fun to watch all of the people with full baskets and screaming kids booking it to grab their last purchases and get to the front. All I can say is "get out of the way."

Then we came home and discovered that a mouse has somehow taken up residence in our bathroom wall*. Then I couldn't sleep well, because I kept dreaming about a massive rat attacking me in my sleep. It may have been all the food I ate. Nevertheless, now I'm going to call an exterminator. Mice (even one mouse), and I do not live well together.

*Public Service Announcement - I feel that I must explain that there is a massive highway being built very close to our little subdivision. That, combined with the fact that Texas is in the midst of an extreme drought, is causing all critters of all shapes and sizes to find their way into our neighborhood looking for food and water. We do not make a practice out of harboring mice, snakes, rats, raccoons, possums, etc. in our home. Again this was a  public service announcement.

*Public Service Announcement Numero Dos - If you bought your furniture at IKEA, I think it is beautiful, comfortable, and I love it.

Correction

You most likely won't notice, and if you're new then you definitely won't notice, but I went back and edited some information out of my posts. In a couple of posts I had included information from email updates our caseworker sends. It was all paraphrased, but nonetheless it was still from those emails. Anyway, AGCI (our agency) has asked that we do not share any of that information on our blogs. I feel horrible that I may have inadvertently shared something that I shouldn't have no matter how innocent the intention. So out of respect for AGCI and Bulgaria, during my lunch break, I quickly removed anything from those emails.

I shared all this not so much because I needed to, because like I said most likely no one would've noticed, but because just last night I read a devotional about correction. I hated being corrected. I always have. Even when the correction is for an action that was not purposefully wrong, I immediately go on the defensive. I want to explain why I did what I did and justify my actions. I want to do everything right the first time. But I'm human and being human, I make mistakes rather often. This is one area where I know God is dealing with me. I am not always right, and I need to learn to admit that. Wow! That's not easy to say. But maybe it will get easier with time . . .

Not to worry, I will continue to regale you with tales of our exciting life and adventures in adoption, but I will use more discretion in the future. Yes, I know you can hardly contain your excitement.

Proverbs 13:18 (New King James Version)

¹⁸ Poverty and shame will come to him who disdains correction,
      But he who regards a rebuke will be honored.

Timing is Everything

Let me set the scene for you: The dishes are done. The dogs and cat are fed. The house is quiet, mostly because Andrew and Patrick are outside (ahhh sweet peace), and I think, "what a great time to type out a quick update". First mistake, even thinking that I had a moment of quiet before 10:00 p.m. Then I hear crying from outside. "Should I go?" "Should I wait and see if it stops?" I decide I'd better mosey outside because I assume, correctly, that something has to be wrong. Second mistake, going outside. Why you ask? Whatever did you find? I'm just warning you, you asked for it. Somehow, in the dimming light of evening, Andrew had managed to step in dog poop. Yep, that right, I said dog poop. Grossed out? So was I. So was he. I'm sorry, but I'm just keepin it real. So instead of that quick post, I got to spend some quality time with my son's beloved boot, a water hose, and some really stinky dog poop. I'm just going to go ahead and tell you that between my animals and my kid, about 50% of my life deals with poop in some form or fashion. As everyone has gotten older it has gotten better, I think it used to be more like 75%. And now that I've dedicated an entire paragraph to poop, I think I most likely lost at least half of the people that read this blog. Honesty is not always the best policy.

For those of you still reading, I talked to our caseworker today. She is always so peppy and happy and full of excitement. I like talking to her, it puts me in a good mood. I'm pretty sure I could tell her that yesterday Patrick and I lost our minds for a little while and decided to rob a bank, and she could put some sort of positive spin on it. Don't worry we are no modern day Bonnie and Clyde. We couldn't pull it off. We would get in an argument. Just joking. Anyway, back to adoption. She (meaning our caseworker) explained some the upcoming paperwork a little more today, and after our conversation, I think it will be more like June or July before we can file our dossier. That's okay. I'm learning to let things happen in there own time. Not that I'm lazy about getting things done, but more that I don't wear everyone and myself out trying to get them done. Please remind of that, when I'm all frazzled and insane acting come June.

So that's about all I know for tonight. I'm outta here. Have a great Friday.

Ecclesiastes 3

A Time for Everything

 ¹ There is a time for everything,
   and a season for every activity under the heavens:
 ² a time to be born and a time to die,
   a time to plant and a time to uproot,
 ³ a time to kill and a time to heal,
   a time to tear down and a time to build,
 ⁴ a time to weep and a time to laugh,
   a time to mourn and a time to dance,
 ⁵ a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
   a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
 ⁶ a time to search and a time to give up,
   a time to keep and a time to throw away,
 ⁷ a time to tear and a time to mend,
   a time to be silent and a time to speak,
 ⁸ a time to love and a time to hate,
   a time for war and a time for peace.

Warning! Information Overload . . .

Hey everybody! Hope this Wednesday evening finds you good. I survived the TAKS test and if everything goes as planned it will be the final time I administer that test. Now comes the STAAR test. I'm not going to give my opinion on all this testing. I'm sure you can figure it out for yourself.

I have to say that the more people I tell about our adoption, the more I am amazed at their responses. Sure, I get those "Why would you want to adopt from Bulgaria?" or "What if something's wrong with her?" comments, but for every rude comment I get, I think I get 10 more complimentary ones. People are genuinely interested in knowing more about the whole process, and I think the question I get the most is "Have you met her yet?" followed by "When do you get to pick her up?".  So I'm sure that if all these random people in the "real" world want to know, then so do you wonderful internet friends of mine. So here goes.

Adoption is not usually a quick process. Whether it be domestic or international, adoption is about red tape galore. I mean if I had a penny for all the miles of red tape, I'd be a wealthy woman. As much red tape as there is domestically, there is twice as much internationally. For example, the FBI fingerprints. Those babies are reserved for international adoption and even then, not all international adoptions require them. And to put the cherry on the sundae, they have to be done in ink. One of most important government agencies can't be bothered with things such as electronic fingerprints, or so I'm told.

Another aspect of all adoptions is the home study. Which by the way ours has been submitted for review! Hooray! In case you don't know the home study is basically a report (ours is 20 pages long), that states that you are physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually ready to adopt. It also talks about the state of your home and your finances.

While we are finishing up the home study, we are also working on compiling our dossier. It's a French word. Look up the pronunciation. Please don't say it like it looks. The dossier gets submitted to Bulgaria. It will include lots of documents, including our beautiful home study. Somewhere in this we have to be refingerprinted. This time electronically. Once our dossier is submitted, it's all out of our hands. Let the nail-biting begin. I hate being out of control. I. Am. A. Control. Freak. (If any of my fourth graders read this, I'm in trouble. Big time grammar issues!)

So right now we are still gathering paperwork and waiting for my fingerprints to be approved. I know I've exhausted the topic of my fingerprints. At this point you are saying, "Good grief Courtney! Quit whining about your stinkin fingerprints!". But people I need them to complete our dossier. Again I say "Come on FBI!" We hope to submit our dossier by the end of May or beginning of June.

Then the wait begins. Now here is the thing. The wait can be long. Like years long. Like around 2 years long. At the end of the wait we receive a referral, which we either accept or decline. If we accept (which we most likely will), we get our travel dates. Within a month we will travel to Bulgaria to meet and spend 5 days with our baby. Now for the clincher. We come home. Without our baby. For 2-4 months. Ugh . . . During this time Bulgaria will process our paperwork, so that when we go back the court appearance is merely a formality. The second trip will be approximately 7-10 days, and then we head home with our little girl. Everybody say "Hallelujah!" When we come home we will have to complete 5 post adoption reports, but the adoption is finalized in Bulgaria.

So there ladies and gents, is the international adoption process in a very simplified nutshell. This is why my FBI fingerprints are so important. Did I mention we need them for our dossier? Oh I did? Good, just wanted to make sure we were clear on all that. Anyway, we are not on the waiting list until we submit our dossier to Bulgaria and it has been accepted. Hence all the whining.

Some A lot of this was probably repetitive, especially to those of you that know us, but I know (or at least I think) that people want to know and understand. I also want you to know that while I'm always asking for prayers, I so appreciate every prayer you say. So many people around of us have become a part of this amazing journey. Your support means more than you will ever know.

Ramblings of a Working Mother

I am a working mother . . . I teach school so 10 months out of the year I work and 2 months I stay home. For the record, I consider myself a full time wife, a full time mother, and a full time teacher.

Do I choose to work? That's a tricky question. While I was pregnant with Andrew, I never really thought about whether I would work or not, I just always assumed I would. When he was born, I suddenly changed my mind. I didn't want to work anymore. I wanted to be at home with him. Isn't there some law that says you aren't supposed to work when you have kids? Patrick did not agree. Patrick is self-employed so his income is never steady and certainly never guaranteed. While we've always been extremely blessed, it's still good to have at least one steady income coming in. On top of that, the state provides good health insurance for teachers, and I carry Andrew on my policy. When Patrick didn't agree with me, I was a little bit annoyed, so I decided that I would go above his head. I would go straight to God. He would set him straight. I prayed and prayed and prayed that I would be able to stay home. But Patrick didn't budge even a millimeter. I apologized to God for my stubborn disobedient husband, and asked Him to convict him, but still Patrick didn't budge. Didn't Patrick know that James Dobson says it's best for mothers to stay home with their children? Didn't he remember that both of our mothers stayed home with us? Obviously, he was being very pigheaded. One night as I was whining praying, the thought "maybe you aren't supposed to stay home" flitted through my head. Of course I immediately rebuked the devil. God would never want me to work . . .

Well, I prayed through that whole spring semester, and when April rolled around, I signed my contract. All the while thinking that surely Patrick would have a change of heart. I went ahead and enrolled Andrew in daycare for the upcoming fall semester. He had a wonderful babysitter, but we decided that he needed more interaction with other kids. Summer came and went, but my husband never did have a change of heart. As I got into the swing of another school year, I slowly stopped praying about quitting. Not because I didn't trust God or have the faith I needed, but mainly because I saw how happy Andrew was in school. Andrew is a social butterfly. He loves interaction. He loves talking and playing and singing and doing art. And, truth be told, I enjoy going to work and seeing my friends. Don't get me wrong, working full time and then coming home and cooking dinner, washing dishes, and doing laundry is no walk in the park, and teaching is certainly not the easiest job on the planet (unbeknownst to many, it can be very intense and high pressure). Still, I really like teaching, and I found that I was happy (most of the time) working. Surprise! Surprise!

With the prospect of another child joining our family in the foreseeable future, I've revisited my thoughts about staying home. This is a very different situation than the last. It will definitely be more challenging and traumatic to leave a child who has lived in an orphanage. Attachment is so important with these little ones, and it can be very hard and confusing for them when they are left in a daycare setting. As of right now, I plan on continuing to work. However, I also know that we are in a more stable financial position than we were when Andrew was born. As much as I love teaching, I am open to new possibilities. Having said all that, I'm certainly not quitting my teaching job, anytime soon. I know that even if I wasn't teaching, I would still want to work. I enjoy working, and when I'm home too much, I clean obsessively (I don't think I need to remind you that I'm a type A personality).

I've also evaluated why I thought I had to stay home. I mean I love James Dobson, but he isn't God. My mother stayed home, and I am very thankful for that, but I'm not my mother (even though I want to be just like her when I grow up). Plus, I have the benefit of having a job, that lets me work from 7:15-3:45. Most days we are home by four, and I get to spend a lot of quality time with Andrew. I get two weeks at Christmas, a week in the spring, and two (unpaid) months during the summer.

So in answer to my original question . . . yes, I choose to work. Will I work with the next one? Right now, I'm saying "yes" (obviously I'll take adoption leave). But this time I'm going to let God lead me instead of me trying to lead God. I want what's best for my family as a whole. If I've learned anything about through all of this it is that irregardless of whether you stay home, work part-time, or work full-time, if you are where God wants you then you are in the right place. Not to mention sometimes Patrick is right. Please don't tell him I admitted that.

Thanks for reading my ramblings. Have a great evening.

Epilogue: The Wife of Noble Character (from Proverbs 31)

Insert Courtney's thought - For the record, I'm nowhere near as awesome as this woman, but hopefully someday, with a lot of prayer and patience from my husband and kids, I'll get there.

 ¹⁰ A wife of noble character who can find?
   She is worth far more than rubies.
¹¹ Her husband has full confidence in her
   and lacks nothing of value.
¹² She brings him good, not harm,
   all the days of her life.
¹³ She selects wool and flax
   and works with eager hands.
¹⁴ She is like the merchant ships,
   bringing her food from afar.
¹⁵ She gets up while it is still night;
   she provides food for her family
   and portions for her female servants.
¹⁶ She considers a field and buys it;
   out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.
¹⁷ She sets about her work vigorously;
   her arms are strong for her tasks.
¹⁸ She sees that her trading is profitable,
   and her lamp does not go out at night.
¹⁹ In her hand she holds the distaff
   and grasps the spindle with her fingers.
²⁰ She opens her arms to the poor
   and extends her hands to the needy.
²¹ When it snows, she has no fear for her household;
   for all of them are clothed in scarlet.
²² She makes coverings for her bed;
   she is clothed in fine linen and purple.
²³ Her husband is respected at the city gate,
   where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.
²⁴ She makes linen garments and sells them,
   and supplies the merchants with sashes.
²⁵ She is clothed with strength and dignity;
   she can laugh at the days to come.
²⁶ She speaks with wisdom,
   and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
²⁷ She watches over the affairs of her household
   and does not eat the bread of idleness.
²⁸ Her children arise and call her blessed;
   her husband also, and he praises her:
²⁹ “Many women do noble things,
   but you surpass them all.”
³⁰ Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
   but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
³¹ Honor her for all that her hands have done,
   and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

Cheep, Cheap (yes I know they are spelled differently - it depends on the paragraph you're reading)

Happy Easter to all my peeps. Get it? My "peeps" as in the grossest Easter candy in all the world (I know lousy joke, but whatever). Sorry, I don't like peeps, but all of you that do, have at it. I would never want to stop a peep lover from indulging in a marshmallow bird here and there. There are plenty of other things for me to eat on Easter . . . and the days leading up to Easter along with the days that follow Easter ;)

I hope you had an enjoyable Easter. Funny story about Easter, somehow my husband has volunteered me to make some sort of Bulgarian Easter Bread for future Easters. One of the questions that went along with our training asked how we planned to incorporate Bulgarian traditions into our lives, and Patrick promptly got on the internet to look up some traditions. He then grabbed the pen and wrote down that he would have me make a bread that Bulgarians eat each Easter. Now, not to brag or anything but I'm a pretty darn good cook, and I'm all for incorporating Bulgarian traditions into our lives, but my husband does not understand that there is a difference between cooking and baking. I love to cook, but I don't really love to bake. I'm not bad at baking, but I only get in a baking mood about once a year. And that time of year would be Christmas not Easter. So if my husband wants Bulgarian Easter bread, he's gonna have to eat it on Christmas. I'm not a springtime baker. Sorry.

So completely switching gears here. I went ahead and bought the quilt for our little girl's room. Now before you think I'm crazy, give me a second to explain. I saw this quilt at Pottery Barn Kids a few weeks ago, and I absolutely fell in love with it. The price, I was not so in love with. This past weekend, we were in a nearby town, which happens to have two of the greatest and most crowded outlet malls in the world, and I thought to myself, "why don't we just swing in there and see what they have?" Amazingly, no one in the car objected (that like never happens), so off to the Pottery Barn Kids Outlet we headed. Now, I didn't expect them to have the quilt I liked, as they usually carry stuff that has either been out a while or has been discontinued, but I was hoping to find something similar. I walked in and started looking around, and suddenly BAM (I used to watch Emeril sometimes) there it was right in front of me for $65 less than the regular store. Being the trusting person that I am, I asked the sales girl what exactly was wrong with it. Of course, she gave me some vague response about how she didn't know, but it was probably damaged. I mean she only worked there, wouldn't want to expect too much out of her. So I proceeded to inspect that sucker, and I didn't find anything major or noticeable. On the end at the very bottom, there were some variations in the color, but you won't see them unless you lay on the floor and shine a really bright light on them. Uh, if you do that, I will ask you to leave my house because that is just weird. So I loaded that baby up and brought it home. Right now it's on the bed, but I'll take it off soon. I don't want it getting dirty.

Ain't it purty? (Sorry if birds freak you out) I still have to buy the shams and stuff, but at least I have the quilt. Yay!

Before I go, I wanted to ask you to please be in prayer throughout this week about the meeting between the adoption reps and the Minister of Justice in Bulgaria. I still don't know the exact date, but it is expected to happen this week. Hopefully, they can start processing adoptions much more quickly. That would be awesome for us! And if you will also continue to pray that my FBI fingerprints get cleared (at the speed of light) I would really appreciate it. Enjoy what's left of your Easter and have a great start to your week.

Peace in the Peacemaker

I've had a bit of a crazy day. Nothing adoption related just the normal craziness of life. Thankfully, we have tomorrow off. Not because it's Good Friday mind you, but because it's a bad weather day that happens to fall on Good Friday. But nonetheless, tomorrow is Good Friday. Good Friday . . . the day that Jesus was crucified. Easter . . . the day He was resurrected. I used to take for granted that everyone knew that. I used to take for granted that most people believed that. I used to be a lot more naive. I've found more and more that people don't want to hear about God. They don't care, they don't want to offend anyone, they don't want to be offended. If you don't believe in God, if you don't believe the Bible, I ask you to bear with me. Please don't stop reading.

You see, I was raised in church. I was there every Sunday and Wednesday from as far back as I can remember. I have good memories of going to church, but going to church (as wonderful as it is) is not the same as having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. It's not what brought to the point I'm at today. I had to be willing to take it a step further. I've heard people say they "do the church thing" because they think it's "the right thing to do". They figure they need to go for their kids or to make friends or whatever. And I usually think how sad, they are missing the whole point. A relationship with God. I've told you before I'm a worrier. But I find the answers to those worries through Jesus. The Bible never fails to bring me comfort (and sometimes conviction). Prayer never fails to bring me peace. Some of you are saying, "Well that's nice, she finds her peace and comfort in the Bible and her God." But I'm telling you it's more than that. There are a couple of times in my life that I can remember feeling God's peace consume me in such a way that it couldn't be anyone but God. The first was when I was around 12 years old. My grandfather had a brain tumor. Brain tumors are never minor. I can remember being in my bedroom alone and praying that God would take care of him. I don't remember the exact words I prayed. What I do remember is knowing without a doubt that everything was going to be okay. And you know what? It was. I'm not saying it was easy or that he didn't have a long road to recovery, but I'll see my grandfather on Easter Sunday. He's still very healthy, and while I won't tell you his age, I will tell you that I'll be 30 in less than two months. The other time was the night Andrew was born. To put it simply Andrew's life and my life were both in danger. I was in serious trouble. From the beginning of the problems to the end of the emergency c-section it was about 10 hours. And yet I never even felt the slightest anxiety. Me the worrier didn't feel an ounce of anxiety. Looking back I find this so strange, but so amazing. I wanted to know Andrew was okay, but the peace I felt was indescribable. Every day of my pregnancy I prayed that Andrew would be healthy and strong. And my son, who was five weeks early, who weighed 4 lbs 13 oz., who was only 17 inches long, who should've stayed in the NICU for at least two weeks, went home with me the day I left. And more than once the doctors and the nurses commented on how healthy and strong he was. Believe me bringing home a baby that small had its challenges, but without a doubt, I believe that Andrew is nothing short of a miracle.

The thing is I'm not perfect. I mess up on a regular basis, but thank goodness I'm covered by the blood of Jesus Christ. My life is not perfect. Sometimes things go wrong. But I want you to know that no matter what you're facing there is a God that loves you. And in the end, even when life is far from perfect (and most of the time it is), I'd much rather start each day with Jesus by my side than without Him.

Have a safe and blessed Easter everyone!

 

John 3:16-18 (New King James Version)

¹⁶ For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. ¹⁷ For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.
¹⁸ “He who believes in Him is not condemned; but he who does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God.

Apologies and Irrational Worrying

So first off I wanted to apologize for the whole "Rejected" title the other day. Apparently I inadvertently freaked some people out. I totally did not mean to do that. I was probably being a little on the dramatic side. I have been known to do that from time to time. The truth is I've had what could be termed "a country music kind of week". Only I've never heard a country song with these exact problems. My three year old got sick, my prints got rejected, and now my cat is sick too. Yeah sounds like fun doesn't it? So this definitely hasn't been a great week, but it could be much worse. There are people in this world that have much bigger problems than I. Even in the midst of my problems things have to be brought into perspective.

Since I want to be honest, but I don't want to be depressing, I'm going to talk a little about what I'm learning from all of this craziness. First of all, I'm a worrier. For as long as I can remember I've worried about something. When I don't have something to worry about, I worry about having nothing to worry about. Insanity? Most definitely. But I also know that worrying is wrong. Worrying says you don't trust God enough to take care of things. Trust and worry are antonyms not synonyms. Adoption of any kind presents challenges. International adoption, has a very unique set of challenges. I fully expected these challenges, but honestly, I never expected my fingerprints to be deemed "illegible". To tell you the complete truth this upset me . . . bigtime. My first thought after I read the letter was, "Oh great, what if I can't get a good set of prints? Then I guess everything is ruined!" As you can see, I'm not exactly Miss Positivity, and again, I can be a bit dramatic. Up to this point everything has gone so smoothly that I was taken completely aback. I let myself whine and wallow for a while, then I realized that it was time to put on my big girl underwear and deal with it. So I got refingerprinted and sent them off. Now here is where the trust issue comes in. I can spend the time until my results come back worrying and wondering if they are okay, or I can trust God that he's going to see this and so much more through to the end. And while it may be an uphill battle for me, I'm going to choose to trust God.

Isaiah 41:10 (New King James Version)

¹⁰ Fear not, for I am with you;
      Be not dismayed, for I am your God.
      I will strengthen you,
      Yes, I will help you,
      I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.

Fingerprinting . . . Again

Okay, I got my prints done . . . again. Went down to my hometown and got my homies there to do it. Seriously, I should not have said that. I promise never to use the words homies in a blog post again. Anyway, I had the prints completed in my hometown. If I do say so myself I think they are pretty darn legible. I've also called the FBI three times in the past 24 hours. Yep that's right, I keep calling and harassing asking them questions. Tonight I called and asked exactly what was wrong with my prints. They informed me that they were illegible. For the love of all that's good and holy would someone please explain that to me? So now the FBI has issued a restraining order against me. I'm sure continual harassment is the best way to get my criminal background check returned in a timely and accurate manner. Patrick has told me I'm not allowed to call the FBI anymore. Apparently, "normal people don't do stuff like that". Uhhh, who ever said I was normal?

Anyway, I'm praying that they accept them this time. I've included a (pretty blurry) picture of my prints below. I cropped off my full name, address, and social security number. Didn't think it would be super smart to post all of my personal info for all of the world to see.

That's about all I have to say tonight so peace out my homies . . .  Okay, I promise that from this point on I'll keep my promise to never say homies again (and this time I'm not lying).

Rejected

One of the major things that has to happen in order to complete our homestudy and our dossier is we have to obtain FBI criminal clearance. Basically, you go to your local police department and have your fingerprints done in ink. Then you send them in to the FBI, and they send back a letter saying you are not a criminal. Simple enough right? Ah but you forget, with me nothing is simple.

Today we got two letters from the FBI. One was in a small, white envelope. Completely unassuming and very unofficial.  Inside that small, unassuming, white envelope was a letter . . . a letter that stated that Patrick had no criminal background. Okay, so everybody dance a little jig. And then there was a big, yellow, official envelope, addressed to Courtney XXXXX Davis (my middle name is not XXXXX - I just don't want you to hunt me down and steal my identity). I couldn't for the life of me figure out why mine would come in a big yellow envelope. Maybe, I was more important? Yes, that had to be it. So I rip open that big, yellow, official envelope, still fully expecting to see the same letter that I saw in Patrick's, but no such luck. Instead I see this: "the quality of the characteristics is too low to be used". What? You've got to be kidding me? I sent in two sets of prints. Neither one was usable? Things like this happen to me. It reminds of the time I was doing a basketball relay in sixth grade and couldn't get the ball in the basket. The coach finally had to throw it in for me. My team didn't just lose the other team was changing out of their gym clothes by the time we were done. What does that have to do with my prints being returned? Nothing really, but it does tell you how truly horribly unathletic I am. Maybe my fingers are unathletic too? Nevermind, that might go down in the record books as one of the weirdest things I've ever said, and believe me I've said some weird things. Anyway, so I'll be headed back to the police department to do two more sets of prints. Patrick will go with me for moral support. I sometimes blabber like an idiot - I need moral support.

So the question of the day is, have any of you readers heard of this happening before? If you have had it happen to you or someone you know please leave me a comment. And pray that we can get a decent set of prints (or two) done on me soon and sent off even sooner. I need proof I am not a criminal. Please and thank you.

Quick Request

I'm not going to post anything about us tonight. I'm just going to put a request out there for another adoptive family that I have never met yet my heart is breaking for them. I stumbled on their blog, Our Eyes Opened, through another blog that I enjoy reading from time to time. They are trying to adopt a young boy named Kirill from Russia, but because Kirill has down syndrome the judge has said that he is "not socially adaptable" and cannot be adopted. This family has given their time, their money, their energy, and most of all their hearts to this process, and now are fighting to bring Kirill home. Please join me and thousands of others in prayer that this decision will be overturned. Kirill deserves a loving home and loving parents as much as any child.

Ephesians 3:20-21 (New King James Version):
20 Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, 21 to Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

What's Next?

Last night, I was giving my mom the play-by-play of our home visit . . . she got much more detail than you got here . . . she heard it all the good, the bad, and the ugly. Okay so most of it was good, and none of it was bad or ugly, but yeah okay, I'm getting off track. Where was I? Oh yeah, so I was giving my mom the play-by-play of our home visit, and she asked, "so what's next?". And then I heard all of you invisible people out there in cyberspace asking the same question, then Patrick asked the same question, and I decided to oblige everyone with an answer.

First off, the home study has to be completed. Our social worker will spend this weekend typing it up (I'm sure she's thrilled) and then submit it to our home study agency for revisions early next week. Hopefully, it won't need too many revisions. After that, it is emailed to AGCI (our adoption agency - keep up people) for revisions, and then they approve us to proceed. After it's complete, it comes to our casa - actually six notarized originals will come our way. From there I'm a little fuzzy, but I know that at least one goes to Bulgaria. By the way, if you will pray for our social worker. This is the first international home study she has done, and while I have the utmost confidence in her, a little bit of prayer couldn't hurt.

In addition to all that jazz, we have to continue to gather information for the Dossier. "The Dossier?" you ask. Oh I haven't told you about that? The Dossier is a collection of documents, including the home study, that are submitted to Bulgaria so that we can be approved to adopt. It includes photos of (every) room in our house, medical letters stating that we are healthy and sane (please refrain from smart alec comments on that one), NBC approval (that's some sort of government agency), and various criminal background checks. Some of these we have already. Some like the FBI background check are still in process. Apparently, it takes a long time to prove we're not criminals. Patrick is there anything I should know?

On Monday, we will send in our adoption workbook. That sucker has taken some time. Talk about daunting. Twenty chapters . . . very long chapters. But alas, after more than a few nights (literally about 20 hours combined) of answering questions and reading, we have slain the beast completed the workbook. On top of that we had the online training which took between 10-12 hours. So thankfully, we have that stuff out of the way. In all honesty, it was very insightful, and I'm certain that as we get closer to the adoption we'll crack open the workbook (we get it back) for a refresher. Right now I feel like we've been going solid for at least two weeks. I can honestly say that I am mentally and physically exhausted.

With all that's going on, it's so easy to get caught up in both the excitement and process of adopting, but it's also very important to realize that this child we are adopting will come from what are likely to be less than ideal conditions. On top of that there are so many people/agencies that have to "approve" you. First, the social worker, who I cannot say enough times was amazing. Then our agency has to issue approval. Followed by the United States and Bulgarian governments respectively.  Having said all that, I have a few prayer requests. Please pray that the "approval" process continues to go smoothly and uneventfully both here and in Bulgaria. We have seen God's faithfulness through the social worker we received, and we are praying and trusting that we will continue to see that same faithfulness. Also, pray that our FBI clearance comes back soon. Really soon. Finally, please pray for our little girl. We have no idea if she is born yet, but we are praying that God will protect her mentally, emotionally, and physically. We are praying that she has caregivers that nurture her, love her, and provide for her in all the ways she needs. I am learning so much about trusting God throughout this whole process. There are so many uncertainties. So many mountains to climb only to realize that you have another mountain in front of you, but the important thing to remember is that no matter how many mountains you face you are never climbing alone.

Psalm 91

Safety of Abiding in the Presence of God

  ¹ He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High
         Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
 ² I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress;
         My God, in Him I will trust.”
       
 ³ Surely He shall deliver you from the snare of the fowler^[a]
         And from the perilous pestilence.
 ⁴ He shall cover you with His feathers,
         And under His wings you shall take refuge;
         His truth shall be your shield and buckler.
 ⁵ You shall not be afraid of the terror by night,
         Nor of the arrow that flies by day,
 ⁶ Nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness,
         Nor of the destruction that lays waste at noonday.
       
 ⁷ A thousand may fall at your side,
         And ten thousand at your right hand;
         But it shall not come near you.
 ⁸ Only with your eyes shall you look,
         And see the reward of the wicked.
       
 ⁹ Because you have made the LORD, who is my refuge,
         Even the Most High, your dwelling place,
 ¹⁰ No evil shall befall you,
         Nor shall any plague come near your dwelling;
 ¹¹ For He shall give His angels charge over you,
         To keep you in all your ways.
 ¹² In their hands they shall bear you up,
         Lest you dash your foot against a stone.
 ¹³ You shall tread upon the lion and the cobra,
         The young lion and the serpent you shall trample underfoot.
       
 ¹⁴ “Because he has set his love upon Me, therefore I will deliver him;
         I will set him on high, because he has known My name.
 ¹⁵ He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him;
         I will be with him in trouble;
         I will deliver him and honor him.
 ¹⁶ With long life I will satisfy him,
         And show him My salvation.”

Questions, Expiration Dates, and Evacuation Plans

Home studies are an interesting thing. They are an exercise in sheer panic . . . until they over. I was more than prepared to have my home torn apart, my personal life delved into, and my parenting skills analyzed and then reanalyzed. Thankfully, it wasn't nearly that bad. We had a really nice social worker, and while there were some personal questions, they were not personal on an uncomfortable level. The questions were a lot of common sense ones like, "What will you do if this child needs counseling?". "Uh well, let me see, yeah, well, I guess take her to a counselor." "Ding, ding, ding - we have a winner Bob!". We also had to talk about how we work out problems, our parenting styles, our disciplining methods, how we met, and how long we dated (to name a few). The first time she asked me how long we dated, and then she asked Patrick later. We dated for 5 years. Patrick told her we dated for 8. She started laughing, and I'm trying not to read too much into that one. I'm just glad she didn't ask him when our wedding anniversary is. July 12, 2003 - in lieu of gifts just send money . . .  I'm just playing. ;)

One of the biggest issues we had, was that I may have dominated the conversation a lot a little, but I did try to let Patrick answer some questions. It's just that every time I looked at him to answer a question, he got the whole "deer in the headlights" look, and I felt the need to save the day. Shocking I know. Because normally, I'm so passive and meek. (Okay, you can stop laughing now)

There are a lot of things that are long and tedious about an international adoption, but the home study (apparently) is not one of them. Unlike home studies done through CPS (or so I've heard), our refrigerator didn't have to be inspected and no one went through our drawers. Darn it! It was rather disappointing since I checked all of the expiration dates on everything and organized my sock and underwear drawer, but then again, those are things that I enjoy spending my Saturday afternoon doing. As I've said before, if you don't understand see my profile. She (meaning the social worker - duh Courtney) did check our smoke detectors and make sure that we have a fire extinguisher and a "fire evacuation plan". Now you talk about interesting. Drawing up a simple evacuation plan took me forever. Simple tasks can be turned into monumental tasks with me in a matter of seconds. I am the queen of making a mountain out of a molehill, and I take pride in that. Needless to say, our fire evacuation plan has a regular route and then it has a couple alternate routes because our house so large (said with sarcasm). So if you ever come visit you can consult this plan - just in case of a fire (especially if I'm cooking). By the way our house is 1836 sq. feet, it's kind of hard to miss the exits. The plan should've said "in case of fire head out the nearest door". But really, how exciting is that?

Now it's time for our nightly fire drill . . .

One Down, One to Go

For those of you checking in for a quick update, tonight's first visit with the social worker went really well. She seemed to understand us and where we are coming from. She was friendly and easy to talk to, which made it much easier. We also went through the house to check out things we need to fix by Thursday. Nothing major, just need to get the paint thinner out of Andrew's bedroom . . . just kidding. Patrick and I managed to maintain our composure and not say anything too crazy. Although, during Patrick's individual interview, I was lurking standing around the corner trying to eavesdrop, and I accidentally stepped on the door stopper thingy majiger. It made the loudest noise I had ever heard, so I promptly ran into Andrew's room and pretended that I was completely engrossed in watching Thomas the Train. Because everyone knows that Thomas the Train is the most fascinating show on television . . .

Please continue to pray for the adoption process in Bulgaria. Also, Thursday the 14th, has been designated as a day to pray for all of the families adopting from Bulgaria. I'm not sure who designated it but sounds good to me. So yeah, if you have a minute just say a quick prayer. There are a lot of families waiting for court dates right now.

If this post makes no sense I cannot be held responsible. I'm so tired my eyes are crossing. Good night all.

We're Still Alive

Well folks, we're as prepared as we're ever gonna be for this adoption home visit. We've been working our tail ends off trying to get everything done around here. And of course we had to have a little drama thrown in for the heck of it. I can't live without at least a little drama. It's who I am.

Saturday, in the midst of doing 8.9 million loads of laundry (at least it feels like 8.9 million), vacuuming the couch, remopping and redusting (see my profile if you need an explanation of this), wiping down the baseboards (which I do at least 6 times a year - again see my profile), and cleaning out the fridge (that's a weekly thing), I decided to sync my iPhone. Now let me share a little bit about me and the iPhone. I really don't know a darn thing about it. I keep it because it's cool and then everyone else will think I'm cool. Some of you are trying to figure out if that's true or not. I'm not telling. Anyway in the middle of all this syncing business, the phone or computer or whatever asks me if I want to download the newest version of iTunes. And because I never ever ever use iTunes I thought this was a good idea. Not so much. My phone then completely froze and stopped working and then the computer keeps telling me to reset it. Of course when I try to reset it, I get a stinkin error message. So a trip to the Apple store had to be made Saturday evening. Now let me tell you something, the Apple store scares me. That place is like eat or be eaten, kill or be killed, you are either predator or prey (and besides my sister thinks it stinks in there). So I knocked down three old ladies to get to the one guy who was free. Thankfully, they were able to fix my phone no problemo, but I lost all of my information (including my pics). Either way, I'm just glad I got my phone fixed . . . and I'm just kidding about the old ladies ;)

Sunday morning came with its own drama. Remember way back to the last post when I said a certain someone likes to leave all of his food and wrappers on the end table each night? Yeah well, he did it again, and while I was getting Andrew's breakfast I hear "No dogs" and "I wanted to eat those for breakfast". So I meander into the living room to see what's going on, and there on my living room floor was an entire box of crackers that a certain someone had left out the night before. And sitting in the middle of this pile is my three year old holding a torn, empty cracker bag, while he shoves as many crackers as he can into his mouth before the dogs got to them. Needless to say, the vacuum cleaner came out yet another time and we were a wee bit late getting to church.

In spite of this craziness, we got pretty much everything done that needs to be done. And if you're not too busy tomorrow afternoon around 4:30 (Central Time - just in case, you never know who's reading), can you please say a prayer for us? We would appreciate it.

Oh and my husband was just going through a box that has been in the closet for about 4 years, which I was not allowed to touch by the way, and he found a ziploc bag full of pretzels. Nice dear . . . petrified pretzels in the closet.

All About . . .

I sat down to eat some lunch and decided that I would write a quick post. No eating is not all I do. But let's face it, I like food. . .

I thought today I would share a little bit about mine and Patrick's relationship. Because I know you're all dying to know. We met in through church activities when we were seniors in high school. We started dating in October of 1998 and got married on July 12, 2003, right after I finished college. We'll be married for 8 years this July. I did the math for you. Your welcome.

I'm the oldest child in my family. I'm a planner. I'm bossy and like to be in charge. It's my way or the highway. Know what I mean? No comments from the peanuts section Sarah and Stoney. By the way, they are my sister and brother. Stoney is not his real name and my parents are really very normal people. I'll explain it some day. Now back to us. Patrick's the baby in his family. He is . . . well . . . um . . . pampered and wants what he wants when he wants it. Still he's a lot more laid back and go with the flow than I am. Used to be that if you messed up my plans or in particular, my schedule I might definitely would flip out. In between marrying Patrick, teaching school, and having Andrew I've mellowed out a lot. I think . . .

I have to tell you that while having a kid definitely changes your relationship, I think it has really only made me love my husband more. Yes there are strains and adjustments to be made, but Patrick is an amazing dad. He will get down on the floor and play any moment of any day of the week. Even when he has work to do (and he always has something that needs to be done) he'll stop to give Andrew the attention he wants and needs. This has given me a whole new level of respect for him and helped me to see him in a totally different light.

Of course like any couple we have our "moments", but in all honesty, I would say that 97.5% of the time we get along really well. A lot of people would consider us the world's most unromantic couple. We don't have long talks about what we are feeling deep down inside. I'm not too big on all of that and neither is he (thank goodness). I got a treadmill for my first Christmas present, and he brings me cookies from the bank every Friday. I find that very romantic.  I cook him meals and do his laundry. He finds that romantic (at least I think he does - you'll have to ask him). It's just who we are. We enjoy being around each other and spending time together, and yes we do hold hands and even kiss sometimes (tmi). Having said that, Patrick and I do go back and forth with each other. My family will appreciate this. It's not fighting or arguing, it's just more of a way of communicating. "Patrick why did you leave candy wrappers all over the end table?" "Oh yeah, I'm going to pick those up later." "Um, why don't you pick them up now?" "Because I'm busy [watching YouTube videos] on my computer." "Well why don't you go ahead and pick them up?" "I will later." So I stare at them for a few minutes, and then try to walk away. But I can't. If I leave those wrappers it will drive me crazy. "I'm just gonna pick these up." "No your not. I said I'll pick them up later." "Well then I'll go ahead and pick them up." Then one of two things will happen. Either I'll pick them up myself, or if I've been successful and annoyed Patrick enough he'll pick them up. The thing you have to remember is that neither of us are mad during this exchange and even when we do get mad, we rarely stay mad for more than a few minutes. Neither of us are the get mad and pout for days (or even hours) type. I'm working on letting things go however. (My worst nightmare is becoming Kate Gosselin. "Jon must you breathe so loud?")

So now you know more about us and really wish you didn't. That's what I'm here for. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.

Madwoman

First of all, thanks for all the sweet comments on here and on facebook. I really appreciate all your support.

Now on to the main attraction. If there is a picture of a woman beside the word madwoman in the dictionary I'm pretty sure it's mine. For those of you that don't know yet, we have our homevisits scheduled for next Tues. and Thurs. at 4:30 in the afternoon. So I'm running around the house like a crazy person trying to get everything finished so we look like the calm, with-it family that we aren't are. I love strikethroughs way too much, I may need to seek professional help.

Last night, I finished cleaning up the garage. Thank the Lord in heaven above I didn't run across any creepy crawly creatures in there. On a side note and sort-of totally unrelated, the other day I opened the garage door and the cat had left me a dead rat. Because I'm full of class, I was heading out into the garage without any shoes, and I almost stepped right on that thing. I'm pretty sure they heard me scream in Minnesota. So yeah, the garage is pretty much cleaned up. Now we just have to finish the back bedroom, actually put plug covers in all the plugs (Andrew never paid much attention to plugs), clean the cat's litter (ahem, Patrick), vacuum the couch (because I'm sure the social worker is going to look under our couch cushions - not!), finish assembling the rest of my office (which for those of you not on facebook is in my closet - I know it just gets classier and classier), scrub the back porch, finish adoption training, mow the yard, bathe the dogs, and make sure the house is clean. Oh yeah, and Andrew needs his weekly bath. On top of that we have a somewhat busy weekend so I'm also hoping to eat and sleep sometime. Ya'll know I need my nourishment. Oh yeah, does anyone want some really old video games? I'll give them to you just don't tell Patrick. Just kidding. Not really.

Oreos and Other News

I'm sitting here eating Oreos. Believe me there are plenty of other things I should be doing. The kitchen needs to be cleaned up from dinner, we, as in Patrick and I, need to work on our adoption workbook/training, I should go run about 12 miles (see the first sentence), and there is laundry in the dryer that needs to be folded. But am I doing any of those things? Nope, I'm eating Oreos and typing a blog post. "Why?" you ask. "Because, I am, " I answer. By the way "because I am" and "because I did" are Andrew originals. "Andrew, why are you running around in nothing but underwear and tennis shoes (or boots depending on the day of the week)?" "Because I am." "Andrew, why did you lock the dog in the closet?" "Because I did." "Andrew why I are you out of bed for the 187th time tonight?" "Because I am." Really, the list could go on for an eternity, but I think you get the point.

In other news (I know, you can't imagine how it could get more exciting than me eating Oreos), all of our paperwork for the home study has been turned in. The home study coordinator is now going to assign us a social worker. Which means soon we will have interviews, both individually and as a married couple, where they ask personal questions about ourselves and our marriage. Which also means that along with the interviews we will have a home visit to inspect observe us in our home evironment. If you don't hear from me for a while I'll be in a closet somewhere hyperventilating. You see, a very nice, very well-meaning person, cornered me today and began telling me home study horror stories. When I was pregnant with Andrew, people would tell me pregnancy horror stories. I had to get to a point where I would just ask people not to tell me all the bad things that could happen in pregnancy. I may quickly reach that same point with adoption. It's not that I so much mind advice or that I'm in denial about all the realities of adoption, but I don't need to hear a laundry list of things that might possibly go awry before, during, or after the home study process. So, if you don't mind, will you please pray that we are assigned a social worker that understands us and works well with our family? And will you also pray that our homestudy goes well and is completed and approved as quickly as possible? And if you have any good pointers from personal experience, you know things like make sure you brush your teeth or give Andrew his weekly bath on the day of the home visit, I would much appreciate them. But please no stories about how your son threw up on your social worker. I just don't need to know.

Can you say "hoarder"?

Okay, so yesterday while Andrew was grouchy and sick and basically not doing anything but laying around and watching movies, Patrick and I started cleaning "stuff" out. We have two major areas that have to be cleaned up. Our spare bedroom and the garage. First of all, our back bedroom, soon to be the baby's room, is full of junk. The closet was/is crammed full. I should've taken real before pictures, but as Andrew and Anthony (my nephew) say "you get what you get and you don't throw a fit". Then Andrew usually proceeds to throw a fit. So here are your sort of before pictures (no fits please):

The toys on that bed I'm going to keep. The clothes are getting donated. Anyone want any little boys clothes? Now you see that massive blow up thing in the background? My sister-in-law, Sally, got that for Andrew for Christmas. It's a Buzz Lightyear blow up spaceship. It's BIG and takes up a lot of space. She thought it was funny. Don't worry I got her back. I bought my niece Chloe an instrument set, with cymbals, for her birthday.

Please ignore my finger in some of the pictures, I was using my iPhone and apparently don't know how to take pictures with it. When looking at the pictures of the top shelves in the closet, imagine them filled to the ceiling with boxes. Patrick, my wonderful husband, does not like to get rid of anything. At points yesterday, I thought I might choke him. I'm pretty sure he read every single piece of paper that I made him throw away that he willingly and with great pleasure threw away. His backpack from college was stuffed up in the top of the closet still packed from his last day of college. He didn't want to throw it away . . . he graduated from college in December of 2004. Let! It! Go!

More importantly, if you didn't notice, my wedding dress is hanging in that closet. I'm not sure what to do with it, so I'm thinking about wearing it around the house. I'll probably wear my old Letter Jacket(s) from High School over it. You think I'm kidding . . .  you'll never know. 

I'm sure you did notice all the boxes and Christmas trees in the bottom of the closet. Those are a few of my Christmas decorations. I will not let them go. (Hello, my name is Courtney and I'm addicted to Christmas decorations) Which is why we also have to clean out the garage . . . I need more storage.

Now, the treadmill and I used to be good friends. We're estranged as of late. Pretty soon we'll be separated forever. She was the first Christmas present Patrick gave me after we got married. You have no idea how excited I was, but that was pre-kids. I had time to work out . . . now I'm busy doing important things like typing blog posts that bore people to death. I will miss her, but she must go. Maybe my sister will take her. Then I can have visitation rights (Hello, my name is Courtney and I'm weird).

There was quite a bit more stuff in that room that is now on it's way to a garage sale. Which, glory hallelujah, I don't have to attend thanks to my wonder Mother-in-Law. I hate garage sales. Here's a pic of some of the stuff that went (please ignore my unmade bed - there is a child laying in it).

The garage, well lets just say that there in lies Patrick's real problem. Ladies and gentlemen I have a confession to make, my husband is a hoarder. Thankfully, he married me, the anti-hoarder. Otherwise, who knows where he'd be today.

So this is what we spent our Saturday doing. It's a lot of work, but it will be so worth it when we get our little girl. Yep, we've definitely decided that we will request a little girl. I have big plans for that room. I'll post pictures one day when it's all said and done. And now it's time to end this ridiculously long post . . .  if you made it this far you deserve a medal of honor.

"Holy Roman Empire Batman!"

Yes, that's a quote from an old Batman episode. I've been trying to work one into a post and finally found a way. Yes, I'm a dork. By the way, Batman (old school version) comes on the Hub channel. I love old t.v. shows.  The Hub channel also has Fraggle Rock, The Wonder Years, and Strawberry Shortcake episodes (and a lot more). It's like a t.v. time machine. Check your local listings for details. This is not a paid advertisement.

Now for a little bit of important information. Bulgaria has recently undergone a lot of major adoption reform. The adoptions were/are very back-logged because for a while Bulgaria processed very few adoptions. In 2008 there were only 5 adoptions completed. In 2009 there were 15. And  in 2010 there were 40, which was quite an improvement. It looks like things are on the upswing, and we couldn't be more thrilled. You can find all of these stats for Bulgaria and lots of other countries at http://adoption.state.gov/ if you feel so inclined. So please pray that things continue to improve there.

On the homefront, Andrew's sick. Side effect of being in daycare. He has horrible congestion, a cough, and fever. It's no fun having a snotty, hacking, sick three year old. Especially when he sneezes right into his hand, and then without missing a beat grabs your phone and says "here mommy, I'll hold this for you". Great Buddy, I'm going to hunt down some rubbing alcohol now. You just sit tight. In all seriousness though please pray he feels better (soon). We need some sleep in this casa.