This Is Us Not Celebrating Halloween

I mean seriously, how do you tell your kid "no, you can't dress up"? So we compromised. I'm still not a fan of the witches and goblins, but Batman . . . I'm a huge fan of Batman.

Saturday night we went to my parents' for a hayride and hotdog roast. The younger kids wore their costumes, and ran around screaming like banshees for two hours. It was awesome.

Today was Andrew's party at school. He was so excited about wearing his Batman costume to school, but apparently crime fighting is serious business. No time for smiling.

Andrew took apples to school because I'm the super cool mom that signs up to bring apples to the parties. When I picked him up he said in his most pathetic voice, "My friends did not want to eat my apples . . . and neither did I." Next time I'll sign up for cookies.

So, I'm having a stare down with a heck-of-a lot of candy right now. We're a bit off the beaten path so we don't get many trick treaters. I still want to be prepared just in case. I guess if no one shows up I'm going to be forced to eat most of it myself. Sad, sad situation.

Changing subjects . . .  I wonder why I can' t seem to lose this weight I've gained?

The Referral Process

We got news today that another family from our agency received and accepted the referral of a little girl. This is another 2009 family, and Bulgaria is working hard to get referrals out to all these families that have been waiting for quite a while.

I know that a few of you had some questions about the whole referral process so I thought I'd attempt to explain it as simply as possible. First off, the agency receives the referral and then passes it on to the family to consider and either accept or reject. The referral must reviewed by an international pediatrician during the review process. The pediatrician will review the available medical records and try to determine if they are somewhat accurate.

Once a family accepts the referral the parents will travel to meet the child in about 30 days. The parents spend a week in Bulgaria bonding with and getting to know the child. Then the parents return home for 4-6 months. The court date is during this period. The length between the 1st and 2nd trips depends on a lot of factors including which holidays fall between the two trips. During the 2nd trip the parents stay 7-10 days, and ultimately the child gets to come home with them.

As far as waiting to receive a referral, we are basically on a waiting list within our adoption agency along with other families with the same criteria as us (geeze, that's a confusing sentence). Each time a family receives a referral we move up on the list.

Our agency has had three referrals in the past three weeks which means we are moving up the list. But there are still quite a few families ahead of us, and we fall into the longest waiting list. We have requested what is to be considered a mostly healthy toddler girl. There are some special needs we will consider, but I'm not going into all that right now. I still seriously doubt that our referral will come any sooner than 18 months, and I'll be shocked if it comes in less than 24 months.

While we expect referrals to continue, once the holiday season gets into full swing there will be more holidays and vacations for the Bulgarian judges and officials. As a result referrals will once again begin to slow down.

Irregardless of where we are on the list or how long our projected wait is, we celebrate with each family that receives a referral. Not only does it mean we move up on the list, but it also means that a family, that has in many cases been waiting for years, gets to bring their child home. And most importantly, it means a child gets a forever home.

Hope that makes the whole process a little clearer.

Have a great weekend. I'm off to stress over the final game in the World Series when I could care less about baseball the rest of the year.

Thirteen and Counting

Thirteen years ago today Patrick and I "officially" started dating. A lot has happened in the past thirteen years. We've graduated from highschool, endured four years of a long-distance relationship, graduated from college, gotten married, moved a lot (both individually and together), bought a house, had a baby . . .

It's really hard to believe how quickly thirteen years went by. I seems like just yesterday I was seventeen, and y'all I'm far from seventeen. We've grown and changed, and I like to think we've grown and changed in good ways. We have more responsibilities, more stress, and substantially more bills than we did thirteen years ago (haha!). We also have more joy, more laughter, and less drama (thank goodness) than we had thirteen years ago. Not every moment has been easy, but every moment has been worth it.

Thanks for thirteen great years together, Honey. I love you.

I even got flowers ;)

Just Keep Walking

So I was outside a few minutes ago illegally putting the sprinklers in my backyard. Yep, I'm a rebel. Next thing you know I'll be parking on the wrong side of the street.

Anyway, so I was putting out those stupid sprinklers because you know we're still in a stupid drought here in Texas, and a couple trucks and/or cars drove past. One of them may have been an SUV . . . I'm an SUV kind of girl myself, but I digress. Of course, I had to turn around each time a vehicle drove by because there is only one entrance into our relatively small subdivision so you better have a good reason for driving down my street, or I'll come after you Buster. Actually, the real reason I look is because I grew up in a really small town so I knew 90% of the people that drove past my house. I'm still in the habit of looking. We also used to follow every ambulance and fire truck that went through town. And if that fire siren went off you could bet phones were-a-ringin'. Again, I digress.

So at one point I was walking, sprinkler in hand, toward the back gate when a truck went by. I turned to look around at the truck but kept walking at the same time. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that maybe, just maybe, you should watch where you're walking. I may or may not have walked right in the side of our lovely brick home. Nice. Don't worry I shook it off and kept moving. Wouldn't want the neighbors to think I'm in any way abnormal.

A Time to Give . . .

So life is continuing as usual around here. This time of year is so busy. It seems like we have something going on every weekend from now until Christmas. And do y'all realize that Thanksgiving is less than a month away? One month . . . I have one month to lose 5-10 lbs which I have every intention of gaining back during the holiday season. It's also why I just ate four twizzlers. Because I'm all about being super healthy.

I love being busy and on the go. I love the parties and the time with family and friends. But I'm also a big homebody and equally love having time to stay home and read a good book which doesn't look to be in my plans for the next two months. Maybe when we're out for Christmas break . . .

As we move into November and get closer to Christmas many of us start thinking about gifts and what we're giving to our family and friends. We start Christmas shopping in September (okay . . . maybe it's just me), and we are constantly on the lookout for the "perfect" gift. While we are busy getting and giving, I think it's very important look for ways to give outside of our family circles and teach our kids the importance of giving to those who are less fortunate. Every year we pack boxes for Operation Christmas Child which is ministry of Samaritan's Purse. Samaritan's Purse is hands down one of my favorite ministries. Last year, Andrew helped pack the shoe boxes, but I don't think he really got it. This year, I think he'll get it, but I also figure he'll want to keep most of the toys for himself. It should be a great learning experience. ;)

National Collection Week is November 14-21

Sunday, November 6th has been designated as Orphan Sunday. You can click on the link to find out how to give to the many orphans around the world. There are so many children without families and homes, and the need is incredibly great, but if everyone gives just a little it's amazing how far that little bit can stretch.

As always, there are local organizations and charities that meet the needs of those here in the United States. One these is the Salvation Army. You know Christmas is on its way when you hear those Salvation Army bells ringing. The Salvation Army has been around for over 100 years, and they meet so many needs in so many ways all around the United States.

So there you have it, my plug for giving as we approach the Thanksgiving and Christmas seasons. These organizations are not asking me to endorse them. Actually, they don't have a clue who I am, and if you have your own personal favorite organization then I encourage you to give to them and do something for those less fortunate than yourself.

That's What I Love About Saturday

Every Saturday morning (and every other morning that we don't have somewhere to be . . . which isn't too often), Andrew gets in our bed around 7:00 if we're lucky . . .  if we're not it's more like 6:15. He usually lays there for about 2.5 seconds before he asks to watch cartoons.

This morning, he was laying in bed with us watching Wacky Races, and I was reminded of a morning when he was just a tiny little guy. It was a Saturday morning, and I guess he was around 8 weeks old. He had had his morning bottle, and I laid him in bed beside me. Patrick had to leave to go show houses, and so it was just the two of us. I turned on the t.v., and Andrew laid there beside me and watched the fan smiling and trying to coo for over an hour.

These are just random pictures of Andrew as a baby . . . they have nothing to do with the story.

There's nothing spectacular about this memory. It was a normal Saturday morning, but it is stands out as one of my most cherished memories. Actually, it's not just this memory that I cherish, but these Saturday mornings. Whether Andrew is 8 weeks or 4 years old, it's not about the places we go or the things we do. It's not about organized family outings, activities, or vacations (and Heaven knows I love vacations). It's about Saturday mornings watching cartoons in bed. It's about going out to breakfast in our sweats on Christmas Eve. It's about toys all over the kitchen, and not getting dressed until three in the afternoon (which I consider a luxury). It's about taking each moment at face value and not wishing it away. It's about the everyday, mundane things in life.

That's what I love about Saturday . . .

And yes, I totally stole this title from Craig Morgan's song That's What I Love About Sunday.

Note to Self

This afternoon, I was reading Blue Eyed Bride's blog, and her post for today was a letter to her younger self. Then, as I was driving home from work, the D.J. on the radio was asking people to call in and tell what kind of advice they would give to their 16 year old self. And so, since it seems to be the day for talking to the younger you, I decided to steal the idea, and write a letter to myself at sixteen. Now if only I could go back and read this to myself. It's the same advice that I'll give to my kids one day, and hopefully, they'll listen. I doubt it, but . . .

Dear (16 year old) Courtney,
You really don't know how great your life is. You have so many blessings, and one day you will look back and truly appreciate all you've been given.
Be proud of who you are. Stand up for what you believe in. God made you unique and special, and that's all that matters.
You are skinny. Period. One day you will weigh quite a bit more than you weigh today and wish that you were the same size you are now. So quit worrying about your weight.
You don't need a boyfriend, and whether or not a guy likes you does not define you. Again be confident in who God made you to be. Boyfriends are overrated.
Love your brother and sister. They aren't as annoying as you think.
You don't need make-up.
Be friends with the people that have no friends. They need someone to be kind to them as much as anyone.
High School is overrated. College will be so much more fun.
Practice the piano. You'll wish you had later.
You hair is not blonde. Your skin is not tan. You are not tall. Who cares?
Appreciate your parents. They sacrifice a lot for you.
Live in the moment. Before you know it you'll be 30 with a job, a wonderful husband, and an awesome son, but you'll still have to be a responsible adult. Don't rush it. It happens soon enough. :)
Don't be a drama queen. It's not that bad.
Laugh more, cry less, embrace each day . . .

With love,
Your (more) responsible, 30 year old, adult self

Vacation Planning

I love planning vacations. If I could get paid well enough I'd be a professional vacation planner. Yes, I know that's a travel agent, and I think that with the advent of the internet they've kind of been pushed by the wayside. Poor, poor travel agents.

Last summer we decided not to go on a big vacation. Instead we spent three nights at the beach and three nights in San Antonio. Now, I have nothing against either. They are both close to home and make for great short trips, but this next summer I want to go to the mountains.

To be specific, I really want to visit the Smoky Mountains. The challenge comes in convincing Patrick to visit any mountain range during the Summer when there is no snow which means there is no skiing (do people even ski in the Smokies . . . shows how much I know). My argument is that last December we went to Lake Tahoe, right before Christmas, during record breaking cold and snow (y'all it snowed 24 inches in 24 hours), and I ended up spending a large portion of our trip stuck in the room with a very grouchy three year who just so happened to have a horrible cold.

Not that I cared a whole lot. I'm not too fond of skiing. It goes against my religion. That's a lie. It does, however, go against my need for control. Putting on 27 layers of clothing, strapping two sticks to the end of my feet, flying down a mountain going 800 mph, and only stopping when I either hit a tree or some poor innocent person is not my idea of fun (I just can't get the hang of stopping). Call me crazy. My husband, on the other hand, thinks it's one of the greatest things ever. Did I ever tell y'all about the time we were skiing and Patrick left me and then got lost, and a blizzard blew in, and I thought he was a goner, but just as they were shutting down the gondola he showed up? That's pretty much the extent of what happened except with substantially more drama. Just one more strike against skiing. And I don't like being cold, and I don't really like snow (except from indoors). There's strike three. Skiing you are out.

So anyway, my leverage for this trip is that he got to pick our last big trip so I get to pick this one. Enter the Great Smoky Mountains. The problem with being the trip planner is there is a lot of pressure. You are the one responsible if things go wrong or if it turns out to be the world's worst vacation. But I still have my heart set on the Smokies.

I know that we won't get to do much hiking because we'll have the monster with us, and I'm not loopy enough to take a four year old on anything more difficult than the easiest hiking trails. I want to be near decent restaurants, and I have no intentions of camping (I don't camp) or roughing it (I don't rough it either . . . at least not at night) so I need clean, decent lodgings. But I do not want to stay in Gatlinburg. Too many people. Too much traffic. I'm not sure which side to stay on . . . the Tennessee side or the North Carolina side? And then of course there's trying to decide exactly where to stay.

As you can see I still have a lot of planning and logistics to work out. Of course, I'll have to start by convincing my husband to go in the first place. He can wear skis if he wants. I'll have no problem with it . . . ;)

So . . .

I know my blog posts have been slightly uninspired lately. For one, we are definitely in the waiting phase of the whole adoption process. Which means that there won't be too many updates until we receive a referral. Unless we were to decide to adopt a waiting child, which is always a possibility, we will most likely wait at least 20 months for a referral. Could the process speed up? Sure it could, and we're praying it does. But I also believe that we have to be realistic. Which is why this blog is called Waiting for Bulgaria . . . it is the story of our lives as we wait for our little girl to come home.

Other than that, I've just been wiped out and stressed out lately. I love it when people make comments about teachers having it easy because they have summers off. I usually have to resist the urge to throttle them. I don't think people realize the enormous amount of stress and pressure that is on teachers (at least here in Texas) right now (and just so you know, it has very little to do with the kids). By the end of the day, I'm often too wiped out to write anything of any substance. Sorry.

This weekend has been nice. We didn't have much going on yesterday so Andrew and I went and got barbecue and ice cream with Patrick at lunchtime. Then for dinner, even though we were still stuffed, I made shrimp gumbo. Which was awesome if I do say so myself. ;)

This morning Andrew's school, which is at the Lutheran Church in town, had preschool Sunday. The kids sang a few songs and received a preschool Sunday shirt, and then there was a picnic lunch, a train, and games. It was a beautiful day, and it was a lot of fun. I took quite a few pictures, but I'm only going to post the ones that just have Andrew in them. I don't like putting up pictures of other peoples' kids unless I'm sure it is okay with them.

Very serious . . . getting ready to perform.

Singing . . . or at least he's supposed to be singing.

Trying to hula-hoop. This is about the extent of his hula-hooping skills.

I don't think this one needs a comment . . . it totally speaks for itself. :)

Well, I hope everyone had a great weekend, and I hope you have a fabulous work week. Adios folks.

What I Know

I know that another family received an adoption referral, and apparently there are a couple more on their way to our agency. These are families that were registered with the MOJ in 2009. I'm not sure during which part of 2009 they registered, but I would guess they've probably been waiting at least two and a half years. Their patient wait has finally paid off . . . very excited for them.

I know that the weather here has been much nicer. We're even supposed to dip into the 70s for highs next week. For me, that's winter weather. Sweaters here I come. I also know that I may have missed true calling in life . . . to be a meteorologist. You only wish you were as cool as me.

I know that every week I DVR Sister Wives on TLC, and every week I think, "what the heck is wrong with these people?" I mean you talk about dysfunctional. I seriously don't get it, but I still watch it. Please don't ask me why.

I know that I intend to watch an Alfred Hitchcock movie very soon. Alfred Hitchcock movies always creep me out, but I love watching them.

I know that putting peroxide followed by ear drops in my child's ear twice a day ain't fun. But then again neither is an eardrum that bursts because the tube can't drain out any of the nasty junk that builds up behind his eardrum. Thought you'd enjoy that gross tidbit.

I know that I've never been more ready for a school holiday than I am right now. Thanksgiving is a little over a month away. Not that I'm counting or anything.

I know I'm tired. Dead tired.

And that's all I know.

The Time I Forgot My Child's Name

Have I ever told y'all about the time I forgot my child's name? I can't remember so I'm telling you, and I apologize if you've heard it all before.

So Andrew made his dramatic entrance on a Saturday morning. You can read all about that drama here if you feel so inclined. The condensed version is, he was born five weeks early by emergency C-Section before the sun came up on the morning of October 6, 2007. In the first few hours of his life, we were led to believe that he would be in the hospital at least two weeks. After 24 hours in the NICU, we were told he would only stay a week. After 48 hours in the NICU, the doctors decided to move him to the nursery for observation and send him home with me the next day.

Exciting? Ummm, well he weighed 4.5 lbs at that point, he was 17 inches long, he didn't fit in his carseat, I had nothing ready at home . . .

Not to mention, I was a hormonal mess. I mean you name it, I had it. Hotflashes . . . check. Tears . . . check. Nerves . . . I had them too. Mood swings . . . what would life be without them?

So it made perfect sense to send me home with a premature baby that was 35 weeks and 3 days and weighed less than your average bag of flour. Perfect sense I tell ya.

Tuesday morning rolled around. At that point, I was psyched to go. I figured we might as well get the show on the road so to speak. Yeah, the doctors and nurses weren't in nearly as big of a hurry. It took us forever to get checked out. Finally, around two in the afternoon, we were ready to move out. I pilfered as much as I could from the nursery cart . . . two hats, a shirt, diapers, formula, wipes (don't judge, the nurse said I could take whatever I wanted) . . . and settled comfortably into the wheelchair. Patrick handed our little bundle of joy to me, and a sweet "older" lady (I think she was like 55 . . . I kid . . . she was at least 60 . . . again, I kid . . . she was definitely in her seventies) came to push me out.

While she was rolling me out, she made small talk. You know your normal questions . . . When was he born? What time? How much did he weigh? How long was he in the NICU? I was batting 1000. My hormonal sleep deprived brain knew all the answers. Then she asked me the question . . . the easiest question ever . . . the question to which I had created the answer . . . "what is his name?".

"His name? Well, ummm his name is . . . well it's . . . " Dangit! I had forgotten his name. I spent hours stressing about his name. I knew it's meaning. I had it written in his baby book. But could I remember it? Nope, all I could think was, "It starts with an A . . . Anthony's name starts with an A, but Anthony's my nephew not my son. What is this kid's name?"

I was starting to panic. Remember those hotflashes? I was sweating enough to fill the Mississippi. I should've just screamed out, "Anthony". The lady never would've known the difference. Patrick might've thought I was nuts, but then again it wasn't like he was helping me out. It was becoming very obvious that I couldn't remember my own child's name while my husband, my in-laws, and some "older" lady that I would never see again looked on.

After approximately two or three minutes, that seemed like twenty or thirty minutes, the lady started to laugh and said, "It's okay hon. It's just the hormones."

I smiled and mumbled something to the effect of, "Yes, it's just the hormones . . . I'm not crazy at all . . . now would someone please tell what the heck this kid's name is?"

Not to worry, once we were in the car, my memory returned. And just so you know, no one ever helped me out and volunteered his name. You would think someone would've said, "Andrew . . . his name's Andrew you moron." But nope, no help from anyone. That's fine I have a memory like an elephant . . . except for this one time . . . and maybe a few others . . .

Disclaimer: This is in no way a reflection my parenting skills. Which are stellar . . . just in case you're wondering.

Red Icing, Cheese Puffs, & Other Important Stuff

Hey y'all. It's been busy, busy, busy around this place for the past few days.

On Thursday evening our caseworker Soojin called with the good news that we are officially registered with the Ministry of Justice in Bulgaria. We've actually been registered for a few weeks, but a few people at our Bulgarian agency were on vacation so there was a delay in relaying the message. Either way, we have a number and are now on the waiting list. Yay!

It's raining here in Texas. Thank the good Lord for that. It started with a little rain yesterday, and then it really moved in early this morning. It's cool outside . . . it's raining . . . it finally feels like fall.

Yesterday, was Andrew's party. I was fully prepared for my house to be very crowded if it rained, but the rain held off for the most part. I'm thankful the kids could play outside, but I certainly wasn't about to complain about the rain or the potential for rain.

I have about eight million pictures of the festivities. My brother took a bunch with his camera, and Patrick and I took turns with our camera. Don't worry I'm not going to show all eight million pictures . . . I'll keep to around seven million . . .

This picture's really dark, but it's in our dining room right before the party. What it doesn't show is the massive amount of food in the kitchen or the enormous tub of cheese puffs I bought for the party . . . of which I may have consumed a large quantity. Don't worry Ruthie, I didn't eat the whole container . . . I stopped at half. ;) Those stupid cheese puffs are mocking me as I speak . . . errr, type.

This picture's a little brighter, but seriously, my child is going through this "I don't know how to smile normally" phase. It's so hard to get a picture of him smiling naturally.

Oh and two words of advice. One, before you download (or upload or whatever) the cutest cupcake toppers ever from an Etsy shop, remember that they will all have to be cut out, and they are circles not squares, and they will have to be hot glued to a popsicle stick, and they will need to be double-sided so they don't look ridiculous, and you will get frustrated because you don't have heck-of-a lot of spare time to cut out four dozen cupcake toppers, and then everyone will throw them away. I'm just sayin'. Two, when you order brightly iced cupcakes in blue, red, and yellow, remember that your carpet color is oatmeal, not blue, red, or yellow. And that is why the littlest cupcake eaters were banished to the outdoors.

In all honesty, the weather turned out great. It was humid and cloudy, but not too hot and not rainy. Which was good because I'm telling you, those kids were taking those cupcakes outside irregardless.

Yes, I'm rockin' the Batman shirt. Yes, my family, including my husband, made fun of me. No I don't really care . . . actually take out the "really". Make fun of me all day long you haters . . .  I'm still wearing the Batman shirt. Not that I'm literally still wearing it. Just that I'll wear it again . . . once it's been washed . . .

I mean seriously, there was no way this super adorable but insanely messy face was entering my house . . .

Batman even showed up . . . I'm telling y'all we know how to party here at the Davis casa.

The cat . . . he's a grouch . . . he neither parties nor has fun. Which is why he was royally ticked off yesterday.

And now I need to go bury an enourmous tub that is half full of cheese puffs in the backyard . . .

Happy Birthday to My Little Superhero

Before you were born I prayed for you. I prayed everyday that you would be healthy and strong. You came into this world five weeks early weighing 4 lbs 13 oz and measuring only 17 inches long.

You weren't too happy to be here. (October 6, 2007 3:51 a.m.)

But, honey, you were healthy, and you were strong.

 (November 2007)

(December 2007)

 

Soon you were a rolly polly ball of laughs. (January 2008 - 3 months old)

Your chubby little cheeks were hard to resist. (April 2008)

And those baby blues are were to die for. (July 19, 2008)

And you definitely have the coolest hair of any kid I know. (September 2008)

 Before we knew it, your first birthday rolled around. (October 2008)

And soon you were walking and trying to fill your Daddy's shoes. (December 2008)

Your second Christmas came with lots of excitement. (December 2008)

And in July of 2009 you went on your first airplane ride and loved every minute of it.

You grew so fast, and two years passed in a flash. (October 2009)



As you grew, so did your personality and your great sense of humor. (December 2009)

(Summer 2010)

In October of 2010, we celebrated your third birthday.

And your fourth Christmas was full of fun. (December of 2010)

(June 2011)

(September 2011)

It's hard to believe you're turning four. You are the greatest little boy in the world. You are my little Superhero. Happy fourth birthday Buddy! I love you.

"For this child I prayed, and the LORD has granted me my petition which I asked of Him."

 1 Samuel 1:27