How Many Kids I Actually Have

This is my nephew Anthony (who was forced to sit in Santa's lap this year).

I'm sure you've seen him in a lot of my pictures, and I know some of you (that don't know me in real life) may be under the impression that he's my son.

He's actually me sister's son. My sister and I are very close (which is a little insane since we really didn't like each other when we were younger), and we spend a lot of time together. Since he goes to the school where I teach, he also comes home with me on most days (which is awesome because he entertains Andrew).

Andrew is under the impression that Anthony is his "brudder" which further adds to the confusion. I've tried to explain that he's not, but he's not buying it.

Needless to say, Anthony is one of the sweetest kids you'll meet. His personality is a lot more like mine than my sister's. Which means that he's pretty darn near perfect. (That's a joke.) Since he was born (almost nine years ago), I've rarely gone more than a few days without seeing him. He's great with Andrew, and he's just a great kid all around.

And I hope that clears up any confusion about how many kids I actually have.

Pinterest, Bowling, and Some Adoption Stuff

I've given up trying to come up with catchy titles. I don't have enough brain cells left or time to come up with them.

I'm still working on my blog. It's looking a little pixelated or some such nonsense, but since I have no clue what I'm doing it may just have to stay that way.

So I tweeted the other day (yesterday maybe??? or Thursday??? I can't remember and I'm too lazy to look) that I just couldn't get into Pinterest. I've been on since this summer, but it just seems like a black hole that sucks my time into an abyss of nothingness (yes, I'm being a little dramatic). My sister loves it, my cousin loves it, but I just can't seem to love it. I have found a couple recipes and Christmas decorating ideas that I'd like to try, and I've also used it to search for house plan ideas since we're thinking about building sometime in the foreseeable future. But I don't have very many pins at this point. I think I find it too overwhelming. Too much to look at. Too many choices. I don't like trying to wade through the irrelevant stuff to get to what's actually relevant to my life. I know I'm getting a little ahead of myself, but I do like the following idea for my front door for Christmas. Not entirely sure I can replicate it, but maybe I can get close.

(This idea is originally from a blog on HGTV. If you click on the picture it will take you to the original blog with lots of awesome ideas.)

Oh well, enough rambling about Pinterest.

Last night Anthony spent the night and we took the boys bowling. It was entertaining even though bowling isn't my favorite thing in the world. It makes my arm hurt, and the nearest bowling alley still allows people to smoke inside. If you want to smoke that's completely your business, but I really don't want to smoke with you. Thanks. Anyway, I felt so gross when we left, and I made everyone bathe with bleach when we got home. That's a joke . . . I hope you know that. I did make everyone scrub from head to toe. Bowling alley germs  . . .

After a while Andrew got sick tired of bowling and started dancing. His moves . . . well they're something. Lot's of finger pointing and hip shaking going on. He doesn't get that from me. Then Anthony busted out some dance moves of his own, and I decided that I'm never taking the boys in public again.

Everyone wants to know how the adoption is going, and all I can say is "it's going". As in we're registered, and we're waiting. It does seem like quite a few referrals have come through and quite a few families are traveling. I'm curious to see where the numbers are when the stats for 2011 are released sometime next year. I know they've increased but I'm not sure by how much. Until it's our turn, we'll just keep praying and waiting. God has the right little girl for us, and when it's the right time we'll bring her home. :)

Now I'm off to do my 800th load of laundry for the week. Seriously, who wears all these clothes???

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?

Mary Poppins

Yesterday, my mom, my sister, and I headed to San Antonio to see Mary Poppins. Oh. My. Gosh. This was my first Broadway show, and it was amazing.

The costumes . . . the music . . . the dancing . . . pretty much everything was fantastic. The storyline was a little different from the movie, and I think it was definitely geared toward older children and adults. It is not a good one for young ones. First, they probably won't "get" it, and second, it has some "scaryish" (yeah, that's so not a word) parts.

But oh my goodness, it was so good. I think that out of all the songs "Step In Time" was the best. The tap dancing alone was worth a standing ovation. Add to that the singing. Well you get my drift.

I took no pictures. Scratch that. I took only two pictures . . . with my iPhone. Yep, I'm a failure. You can't take pictures during the show, but I didn't get anything before or after except for one really bad iPhone pic that almost got me kicked out. No Photography!!! Oops. I thought the rule only applied to during the show like the signs said. My sister was trying to take a picture of my mom and me, and the usher almost took her head off. I mean seriously dude she's taking a picture of her mom. Chill a little.

Illegal picture taking . . .

Before the show, we took a stroll (sounds sophisticated doesn't it?) down the Riverwalk and had a late lunch. The weather was really nice, and we were able to eat outside. Afterward, we grabbed some Starbucks and sat outside the bakery of our hotel for a while. The things you see while sitting outside in downtown San Antonio . . . that's a whole other show.

Once we finished gawking people watching, we grabbed some dessert (for after the show) from the bakery and then got ready. Our hotel was directly across the street from the theater so we were able to walk. We stayed at The Gunter which dates back to 1837 when it was The Frontier Hotel. In 1965, a woman was murdered on the 6th floor, and it's said to be haunted. I don't believe in ghosts, but our room was just down the hall from where this woman was murdered (the rooms have been closed off and a wall put up) so I felt the need to try repeatedly to scare my sister. It didn't work, and I thought about getting up around three in the morning to try, but I was too tired. Plus she's crazy when you wake her up from a dead sleep. I'd have been safer with the ghost of the murdered woman.

This morning we had a ginormous breakfast, and then checked out. We stopped on the way home to shop a little. You can't have a weekend with no men and not shop. After that we were home bound. I had a blast and enjoyed every minute, but I was really glad to be home. I've said it before, but I just have to say it again, "there's no place like home".

Holidays in Our Home

This is a very weird post for September. Just go with it.

Okay, so I have holidays on the brain. I made Patrick and Andrew pose for our Christmas Card pic yesterday. Hello, I'm Courtney, and I'm extremely ever so slightly off kilter. Truth be told I was having a good skin and hair day so I decided we were taking the picture. I'm extremely selfless that way.  So in honor of the fact that I'm crazy (and apparently very shallow), I decided to do a "holiday" post, and discuss not only how but if we celebrate certain holidays. Before I talk about any of these days and the traditions that surround them, I want you to know that I am in no way judging the choices and decisions that you make within your own family. How you celebrate is your decision.

Ladies and gentleman, fasten your seatbelts it's about to get exciting. Okay, not really, but if you'll please humor me.

Halloween . . . I have mixed feelings on this one. Neither Patrick nor myself were raised in families that celebrated Halloween. Overall, I think it is an innocent and fun holiday for parents to torture their children by dressing them in ridiculously hot costumes kids to dress up, and parents to take too many pictures. Still, we've decided that for the most part our family won't be celebrating Halloween. However, we will let Andrew dress up in his Batman costume (that he doesn't know he's getting for his birthday) and wear it to school that day (we're not the meanest parents ever). We (meaning Patrick) may even take him to the Fall Festival at the local church. (I hate those things . . . not because of it being Halloween . . . more because it's germ central. Germ-X anyone?)

Thanksgiving . . . No controversy here. I. Love. Thanksgiving. I think it's just about the perfect holiday. There's not a lot of hype. There's not a lot of me, me, me (because I'm really not as shallow as I seem). It's a time to bake, eat, and be thankful for all God has given us. I usually spend the day before Thanksgiving baking, and then we spend the actual day with our families. We eat, we laugh, we relax, and of course, in true Texas fashion, we end the day watching the UT vs. A&M football game. Actually, I just found the controversy . . .

Christmas . . . Oh Christmas. My favorite holiday. I love the decorations, the music, the food (oh my, how I love the food), I love the traditions, and of course, I love the meaning behind Christmas. So where's the controversy? Santa Claus. I know, how could the jolly old man be controversial? I grew up believing in Santa. Patrick didn't. Somehow, we managed to overlook this important difference until after our marriage (I'm not implying it was a make or break it point for us . . . I'm just pointing out that it was overlooked). When I found out that Patrick didn't believe in Santa, I was mortified. What would this mean for our future children? When he found out that I did believe in Santa, he was horrified. Obviously, I was brought up wrong. Don't worry, we worked it out. I think, once Patrick realized that Old St. Nick was just one small part of my whole Christmas experience and in no way took away from the real meaning of Christmas, he was okay with it. And just so you know, I wasn't devastated when I realized the truth. Because our Christmas experience didn't revolve around Santa, but around Jesus, it was just a natural progression as we got older. We outgrew it. So in short, yes Andrew believes in Santa. We visit him. We leave out milk and cookies. And he leaves a few treats in our stockings and some gifts on Christmas morning.

More than anything, however, we focus on Jesus and His birth, during the Christmas season (and throughout the year). We read stories about the birth of Jesus, and we Sing Away in a Manger (670 million times). We also pack boxes for Operation Christmas Child so that Andrew can understand the concept of giving to others. The whole giving to others thing is a work in progress. Who knew four year olds were so egocentric? I'm pretty sure I learned that in my first Child Phsych class . . . if only I had paid better attention.

As we get closer to Christmas, I'll share more of our traditions, but basically, that's Christmas in a nutshell.

Easter . . . I would consider this the last of the major holidays. To me it is so important to take time out each year to really focus on the sacrifice that God gave us in His son, Jesus. Not that we don't remember throughout the year, but Easter is definitely a special time of remembrance and reflection. The hardest thing this past year, was explaining to Andrew about Jesus's death on the cross. The concept of death is still very vague to him, but we have done our best to explain to him Jesus's death and Resurrection in an age appropriate way.

We also hunt eggs. Please don't tell me it's a pagan tradition. We haven't dyed any yet. I'm not sure I'm that brave. We don't do the Easter Bunny. I know it makes no sense, we do Santa, but not the Easter Bunny. And really I don't have a problem with the Easter Bunny, but we try to keep the gifts at Easter on the low key side. I think sometimes we get too focused on the gift giving and forget about the real meaning. So yeah, the only Easter Bunny at our house is made of chocolate.

Of course, there are other holidays throughout the year . . . Mother's Day, Father's Day, The 4th of July, my birthday . . . Haha! But I think I gave you a pretty good idea of how we celebrate (or don't celebrate) some of the biggest holidays. Because I know you've been dying to know. :)

Back in the Groove

Well, ladies and gentlemen (or gentleman as the case may be) it's official. Summer is over . . . at least for us teachers. Too bad it's still six million degrees outside. No seriously, when I got in my car a little bit ago, my thermometer read 109. Ridiculous!

Today Andrew started school full time and was so excited to see some of friends from his old school. For me, it wasn't an "official" workday, but I did head in to work for a couple of hours. I got some "stuff" done, but spent a large part of the morning catching up with friends. Tomorrow we begin the process of trainings, evaluating data, and putting together long term plans and goals for the new school year. It's thrilling I tell you . . . thrilling!

After finishing up at work, I went to lunch with my mom, my grandmother, my sister, and Anthony came along for the fun. It was a nice way to end the summer. Unfortunately, I intended to take a couple pictures but as usual, forgot. Maybe next time.

Going back to school means a lot of things. It means alarms going off at 5:45 each morning (not my favorite thing in the world) and early bedtimes (one of my favorite things in the world). It means back to craziness and time crunches. It means that in order to get things done in a timely manner, I have to step up the organization a notch. Every week at school I create lesson plans, and to a lesser extent I try to create a "lesson plan" for home too. I create a flexible meal schedule for each month, and a laundry and cleaning schedule for each week. I do have a lady that comes every two weeks and does all the major cleaning, but things like my kitchen have to be cleaned each and every day. And of course, the dust and messes that collect in the meantime can't go unchecked. I also keep a daily calendar of things that have to be done for both work and home. Yes, I'm a crazy Type A personality, but without some sort of plan, I'd probably come home everyday, and plop on the couch with a carton of chocolate ice cream and never get anything accomplished. Not a pretty picture . . .  I'll tell you that much.

So, if you notice that my blog posts are fewer and further between, I've not fallen off the face of the earth. I'm just trying to get back in the groove of things.

I'm Back

Back to reality ladies and gents. Don't worry, I snatched up some of those handy-dandy travel size toiletries to bring home. I don't know why I always bring them home, but I do. They may come in useful one day.

We had a fun filled few days in San Antonio. San Antonio is a great place for us to visit. It's just about an hour (maybe a bit more) drive, and there is more than enough to keep us busy. I love being downtown in cities where you have walking access to everything you need. If I ever lived in a city, I would have to either walk or rely on mass transit. I'm not a good driver in crazy traffic. Some members of my family would say I'm not a good driver in any kind of traffic, but we'll just ignore them.

Anyway, we drove down on Thursday afternoon, and after checking in at our hotel we hit the Riverwalk. After dinner, we took Andrew on a riverboat ride which he enjoyed and ended up outside the Alamo before going back to our room.

Friday morning we got up bright and early and headed to Sea World. Andrew was really excited about seeing "Shampoo" as he called him (or her as the case may be). I love Sea World, but I think that once in my life I would like to go when it's not sweltering. We were fortunate that for all of the morning and part of the afternoon there were overcast skies which helped it to stay a little bit on the "cooler" side . . . if you can consider 98 degrees cool.

Sesame Street and Shamu . . . what more could you ask for?

Baby Shamu . . . oh my goodness . . . so stinkin' cute.

Baby Sea Lion . . . oh dear . . . need I say more?

First rollercoaster ride! :)

On Saturday morning, we put our walking shoes back on and went exploring. We visited El Mercado and wandered through the shops and booths. Afterward, we went back to the Alamo. Yes, I forced my family to go back. I wanted to go inside. Patrick says I've made him go through the Alamo more times than he can count. Among other things, I teach Texas history . . . I love Texas history. Unfortunately, you are not supposed to take pictures on the inside of the Alamo. We ate lunch on the Riverwalk, and then returned to the air conditioning to dry off from sweating buckets rest. That evening, after three days of no naps and being on the go, Andrew was wiped out so we grabbed pizza at a local hole in the wall place (which was really good) and spent the rest of the night hanging out in the room.

To be so cool in 104 degree temps . . .

When taking pictures of a bunch of people you don't know, black and white (or sepia or whatever) always seems to look better.

Trips are always fun, and vacations are great, but I'm pretty sure Dorothy had it right when she tapped her heels together and said, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home . . .".

I'm leaving you with a video of Andrew getting his "groove thang" on with the characters of Sesame Street. He's got moves you only wish you had. (Sorry about the quality . . . I had to lessen the quality to get it to load)

Today I Will . . .

Psalm 118:24 (NKJV)
  This is the day the LORD has made;
         We will rejoice and be glad in it.

I have so much to do today. I'm not even sure why I'm on here. Except that I haven't finished my coffee, and I'd like to, at the very least, have some caffeine coursing through my veins before I tackle the tasks I have in front of me.

I need to pack for our trip to San Antonio this weekend. We're leaving tomorrow, and I haven't packed yet. Way out of character for me, but I had a team leader meeting at school yesterday that took up a big chunk of my morning. After that, I ran errands, and by the time I got home, it was time to pick up Andrew and get dinner started.
 
Anyway, yesterday reminded me of a work day. Which left me wondering, "Where the heck has the summer gone?!?" In less than three weeks, I'll be back at work, and I've already started preparing for another school year. Then I realized that I spend most of my time looking forward to the next "thing" that's coming up, rather than enjoying the here and now. Not that there is anything wrong with looking forward to things. We need to look forward to great things in our lives, but it seems like most people are literally "wishing their lives away". We wish for summer only to find the heat unbearable, and so, we wish for cooler temps and fall weather. And with the advent of fall, we wish for Thanksgiving and Christmas. And with the passing of the holidays, the post holiday blues and cold weather set in (yes even in Texas we get our standard two months of cold weather), and we wish for Spring. We wish for our babies to get past this stage and on to an easier one. We wish for bigger houses, newer cars, better clothes, longer vacations . . . it's a never ending list. And then we look up one day and realize, that so much of our lives have flown by in a crazy blur. We've stayed busy in order to try and fulfill ourselves, but instead of fulfillment we find that we're tired and worn out.

Where on earth did all this reflective thinking come from? I think it has something to do with the fact that Andrew is going to four in October. Four. Years. Old. Next thing I know, he'll be driving. And while I wouldn't go back for anything, I find myself wishing, ironically enough, that I had taken the time to enjoy each little stage and moment a little more before rushing on to the next. So, I guess I'm making a middle of the year resolution . . . . Yes, I will have goals. I will look forward to "fun" things that are coming up, but I will also enjoy my life now. I will enjoy those days when I'm buried in laundry, and have a grocery list a mile long. I will enjoy those days when I have a stack of dishes to do, and I've stepped on Thomas the Train for the thousandth time. I will enjoy those days when we are out and about and spending time as a family. Today I will stop and enjoy the moment even while looking forward to tomorrow.

Eternity

Yesterday I ventured to Hobby Lobby with my 3 year old son. Boy howdy is that a fun experience. Most places I let him walk but never in Hobby Lobby. I could see it now, "I'm sorry ma'am, but you'll have to pay for that entire shelf full of glass junk vases, bowls, and plates that your son just knocked down trying to climb." Yeah, never let him walk.

I really have no idea why I went in there. I thought about taking up jewelry making for about 2.5 seconds, but that came to a screeching halt when I remembered that I'm the polar opposite of crafty. While I was in there, I did realize that I have over three years worth of Andrew's memorabilia that I've been meaning to put into a scrapbook. So we ventured into the scrapbook section where we found the perfect scrapbooks for both Andrew and his future sister. (sorry about the quality . . . iPhone photos)

Andrew loves his robot scrapbook, and I can't wait to fill them both with memories. After grabbing the scrapbooks, we booked it out of there in order to ensure that no more money was spent and no junk valuable items were broken.

Fast forward to this morning . . . I was essentially kicked out my house. I have a cleaning lady that comes every other week. I'll explain some other time, but suffice it to say, I don't hang around while she's cleaning. Makes me feel weird. So anyway, I was forced to go to Target. I rarely go to Target without a purpose, but if you're a teacher, the dollar bins are awesome in the weeks leading up to school. So after, stocking up on more junk treasures for my class and classroom (I'll stop with the junk thing), I headed over to the kid's clothes.

I know a couple people that will be having baby girls in the next few months, and so, I wandered into the girl's clothes. I was innocently and somewhat aimlessly looking through the clothes, when I was unexpectedly hit with a ton a bricks. Not a literal ton of bricks but a figurative one (like you couldn't figure that out). I realized, I am so ready to see, and meet, and hold, and hug, and rock, and kiss my little girl. And suddenly two years seemed like an eternity to have to wait.

Two years still seems like forever even though I should know better than anyone how quickly two years can pass. It seems like just yesterday I was leaving for college. That was 12 years ago. It seems like just yesterday I was graduating from college and getting married. That was 8 years ago. It seems like just yesterday we were moving into our new home. That was 4 and a half years ago. It seems like just yesterday I was pregnant. That was 4 years ago. It seems like just yesterday Andrew was born. That was 3 years 9 months and 8 days ago. It seems like just yesterday we were sending in our adoption application. That was almost 6 months ago. I'll stop now. You get the point.

In spite of the wait, the stress, the worries, the fears, I wouldn't do this any other way. I'm more than glad we chose Bulgaria. I think it is the country we were meant to choose. But that doesn't mean I won't be praying that the wait times get shortened and the referrals start rolling in. Not only for us but for all the families who can't wait to hold their little girls and boys. And until then, I'll work on filling scrapbook pages with all the important and not so important events that will lead up to us bringing our little girl home. (See there was a point to me showing you those scrapbooks.)

The 4th of July Davis Style

If you're thinking our 4th of July sounds adventuresome and exciting you're going to be dissapointed.  It was actually pretty laid-back, and I somehow managed to make it through the whole day without taking a single picture. No wait . . . I was wrong . . . I did take a single picture after all . . . of the back of my parents' house.

Wow! Now there's a thrilling photo . . .

Anyway, we had a good fourth. We spent the afternoon at my parents'. As usual, we managed to eat way too much. I have the uncanny ability to continue eating even when I feel like I could explode. It's a gift few were given. I would've stopped, but my grandmothers made Italian Cream Cake and Double Choc. Cookies. What's a girl to do?

We didn't make it into the river to swim. No one felt like it before we ate and afterward everyone was too full to move. So we talked and cleaned up the kitchen while the kids played. It was quiet and low-key. My favorite kind of holiday.

Normally, after we finish at my parents' we come back home and meet my in-laws at the park here in town to watch fireworks. Sadly, there were no fireworks this year. It's just too dry. All of the fireworks stands were closed, and most of the surrounding towns and cities cancelled their shows. There were a couple of nearby towns that still had theirs, but frankly, I'm glad ours was cancelled. We have a lot of farm and ranch land near where we live, and it's just not worth the risk of causing a huge fire. We're praying for rain, and if we get some, the show is scheduled for Labor Day.

There's not much else happening in my world. I've been slathering lotion on my hands hoping that it will help my electronic fingerprints to turn out well. I'm also trying not to burn my fingers. I'm a good cook, but I'm a dangerous cook. And I have a bad habit of grabbing hot stuff bare-handed. You would think I would learn. Anyway, after my track record with fingerprinting, I'm just ready for the USCIS appointment to be over and done with. I'm gathering all the paperwork, and trying to get it all ready to be notarized and then apostilled once we get our NBC approval. I've got just over a month until I go back to work. The kiddos don't come until the end of August, but us teachers start right there at the beginning of the month. I know that once school is back in swing I'll be short on time and energy so I need to get as much done now as possible. I'm very thankful that our appointments came as quickly as they did. That was a huge blessing.

Seeing as how I don't have much else to say, and this post is already getting way too exciting (say it with sarcasm people), I think I'll say goodbye for now. Have a great day everyone (just think it's already Tuesday . . . yay for a short work week)!

Hear That? Me Neither . . .

My house is quiet this morning. Like the kind of quiet that tells you there is definitely not a child (or a husband) within the four (or five or six . . . ) walls of your home. It's the kind of quiet a mother rarely hears. And while I love the chatter of my three year old son, it's the kind of quiet I cherish.

Let's just be honest here. I'm going to put it all out there. Am I the only person that thinks about buying ear plugs somedays? Not so much for Andrew, but for everyone in general. I mean there are times I want to holler, "Would everyone please stop talking to me for five minutes?!?". Just so you know, I'm not crazy or psycho or anything, and I love, love, love my family, but I need my space and time alone which is often hard to come by. Sometimes, between teaching school, where I hear "Mrs. Davis" 2.5 million times in an eight hour period, and then coming home and hearing two (sometimes three) people talking non-stop, while the dogs run around barking, I just want to lock myself away for a while. Which is why my desk is in my closet. I can hide there.

Anyway, this summer Andrew is going to "school" on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I've never done this before this year. I really like having him at home, and he plays really well by himself. But he has a tendency to be anti-social like me, so when given the opportunity it's good that he socialize (at least that's what I'm telling myself :)). Back to my point, the daycare he attended before was connected with the school so when the school shut down for the summer so did the daycare. But this year we planned on switching daycares. I've loved the daycare he has been in since he was ten months old. I love the teachers, and they have loved Andrew. On his last day there, I couldn't hang around because I thought I might burst into tears. Of course, given the fact that I burst into tears with almost every major (and not so major) transition in Andrew's life it's really not a surprise. In spite of my love for his daycare, it was time to move on. We have a fabulous preschool at the Lutheran church in our town. The biggest problem that we faced was that Andrew was having none of it. When I told him he would start a new preschool in the fall he cried. What can I say? He's overly dramatic sensitive like his mama.

I knew he needed time to adjust and transition, so I asked them to call if they had any part time openings in the summer. It is rare that this school has openings. Andrew has been on the waiting list since he was ten months old (and they only take kids three years old and up). So when they called and asked if I was still interested in Tuesdays and Thursdays, I was like "Heck Yes!". (Anyone catch my Napoleon Dynamite reference? Yep, it's official, I'm a dork.)

Needless to say, that's why he's in school right now, and I'm sitting in a very quiet house and drinking my coffee without any interruption. Not to worry, by the end of the day I will miss my child's non-stop (when I say non-stop, I literally mean non-stop) talking  like crazy and will be thrilled to kiss his chubby, albeit dirty, little cheeks. But until then . . .

Have a great day everyone!

What's Been Happening?

Okay, so I just put two and two together and realized that our fingerprints for Homeland Security also have to be approved by the FBI. Only this time it's electronic. I think I've been down this road. Remember the ink prints? Why can't the left hand talk to the right hand and get it together? Why must we be fingerprinted twice? I realize that not all countries require ink prints, but geeze louise people, I could save everyone a lot of time and money here.

On another note we had a busy weekend. We went to the Watermelon Thump in our hometown. The town where we grew up is small. It's filled with pumping units, there are two of the best barbecue places in the world (I'm gonna get grief for that comment), and every half hour or so a train goes right through the middle of town. It has a population of about 5500 and two stoplights, and it's home. Every year during the Thump it grows by leaps and bounds. People come from all over to enjoy the insanity that is the Watermelon Thump. The truth is, I'm not much on the crowds combined with the heat, but it would a federal offense not to visit the Thump and hang out for a while. And besides that my Aunt Karen was the Grand Marshall in the parade on Saturday.

On Thursday night we let Andrew ride the germ infested and dangerous carnival rides, and eat foods we would never let him consume on any other day of his life. Can you say funnel cakes and fried "everything" on a stick?

Looking up at the Ferris Wheel.

Hanging out with his cousins and acting like his father.

Taking a spin on a motorcycle.

Rounding out the evening on the fastest carousel ever. I kid you not, that thing was flying. Like I was ready to catch a kid or two as they flew off. Andrew named his horse Paycheck. I have no idea where that came from.

On Friday we took a break from the heat and took Andrew to see Cars 2. It was a little above his head, and I wasn't too crazy about it. Remember those pumping units I mentioned earlier? Well my family is in the oil business. If you've seen the movie this will make sense. If you haven't well then you're totally lost. Sorry. Either way, he had fun.

Ready to go to the movies

On Saturday morning we ventured back out into the sweltering heat to enjoy the Annual Watermelon Thump Parade with friends and family.

Aunt Karen doing a "grand" job of "marshalling" the parade. Sorry about the picture quality. I'm not good at shooting moving objects.

See how Andrew is sitting? He's super cool like his mother.

Enjoying the sights and sounds with cousin Chloe.

After the parade and lunch, we felt like we'd paid our dues for the year, and so we headed home to do yardwork. Yep, I said yardwork. We put on some more sunscreen and got to work on our pathetic and greatly neglected backyard. Even though we're in the middle of a drought and are sadly behind for rainfall for the year, I am determined to ressurect our backyard. My husband is thrilled.

After, working for hours we were finally ready to call it a day but not before Superman showed up to help with the watering.

Welcome to the ER . . . Your Room is Down the Hall, On the Right

First, I am aware that my title on my last post was very much grammatically incorrect. It's bothering me too. I'm not changing it. That's all.

Last night, we decided to head to church with Patrick. We don't go during the school year, because it's just too hard to get fed and bathed and out the door on time. Plus it has us climbing into bed way past bedtime. But during the summer, we try to go with him as much as possible.

Anyway, last night we went, but before we left I mentioned to Patrick that I wanted to be home by 9:00. I was tired and didn't want to be up half the night. Uh, anyone remember Murphy's Law? Yeah, it didn't cross my mind either. So, we got to church, and made it through praise & worship without any major problems. Andrew was in a good mood, and was ready to go to "Sunday" School. After the music was finished, I dropped him off with his teachers and headed to help Patrick with the youth.

Youth was uneventful, and I didn't have to lay the smack down on anyone so that was good. Just as we were finishing up, one of the teachers from Andrew's class comes to get me and tells me that his ear is hurting really badly. Now, Andrew has had a lot of ear infections. He's had tubes three times. At one point he was on antibiotics for 40 days solid. Any time he says his ear hurts I take it seriously.

I went to check on him, and sure enough, there he sat with his hand over his left ear. He kept saying it was hurting "bad" so I decided to gather up his things. All the while, Andrew continued to complain, and I was about ready to hit the ER because the last time this happened (with tubes in his ears) the fluid couldn't drain and his ear drum burst. Before, we made a final decision on what to do, Patrick took Andrew to the bathroom, and that's when the wailing crying began. I couldn't figure out what was going on, but Andrew was coming apart at the seams, so I busted in the bathroom. That's when he said it, "Mommy, I put a pencil in my ear." Oh for the love of money . . . child, you have got to be kidding me! Nope, he wasn't kidding. He actually put a pencil in his ear. So we knew for sure that a trip to the ER was warranted.

When we got to the ER it was packed. I mean it was crawling with people. It was like "Hey let's all head to the ER and have a family reunion. Yay!" Very few people actually looked sick. That didn't matter. I went into full on germaphobe mode. Don't anyone dare touch anything, and keep your breathing shallow. You're less likely to inhale something that way. Sounds good anyway. Thank the good Lord above, we got called back relatively quickly, where we then waited for an eternity. I thought Andrew might be driving by the time we got out of there.

Like I said, we waited for an eternity, and I really didn't care if it was a senile patient from the psych ward (there is no psych ward in the hospital we were at), I just wanted someone to look in his ear. It was late, and you would think my child would be tired. Possibly falling asleep. Oh no, he was singing and dancing and repeatedly asking us to take his picture on our phones. It was becoming evident that his ear wasn't damaged, but darnit, I had already paid my copay, and somebody was looking in that ear. While we waited, I eavesdropped on the other patients through the curtains. The things people do and say amaze me. I mean the ER would be first rate entertainment if wasn't for all the bacteria, viruses, blood, and bodily fluids. Sorry. I shouldn't have said bodily fluids.

Anyway, after approximately 15 years, the Doctor or P.A. or Janitor or whoever the nice man was, came and took about 2.3 seconds to look in Andrew's ear. Guess what? It was fine. Then they chatted about carnival rides. Strange? Yes, but then again my life is bizarre so nothing surprises me anymore. He told us to sit tight, and he would get us our discharge papers . . . cue Jeopardy theme song . . . now cue it 150 more times.

Finally after a decade or ten, this very nice, very clueless nurse brings us our discharge papers. She says, "I'm so glad there was nothing in his ear." I respond, "Oh we didn't think there was anything in there. We were just concerned because he shoved a pencil down it and wanted to be sure he didn't damage anything." She answers, "Oh yeah, I'm really glad that pencil wasn't still in there." I stare at her blankly and nod and then say, "Well he just poked it in. He didn't leave it there." Which she follows with, "I know, I know. I'm just really glad the doctor didn't find the object in there." It was 11:00 p.m. I was exhausted, and this nurse apparently thought that we wouldn't notice if a pencil was stuck in our child's ear. I mean, how small did she think this pencil was? I gave up. I wasn't explaining it again.

We left. So much for making it to bed early. We finally laid down a little before midnight.  

And that girls and boys is why you do not let your children use pencils and/or pens until they are 35.

The End

Waving the White Flag

I knew I was pregnant with Andrew really early on. As soon as I knew, I switched into overprotective mother mode. I watched what I ate, exercised, never slept on my back, paid careful attention to exactly how much weight I gained (not too much, not too little) . . . I was insanely careful. I mean the entire time I was pregnant I didn't touch lunch meat. All around me pregnant friends were eating sub sandwiches (which I craved like crazy), and I resisted. There is a very strong possibility I went overboard, but then that's my personality.

When Andrew was born prematurely, I kicked it up a notch. Except for doctor and family visits he didn't see the light of day for almost 10 weeks. Even then I was paranoid very careful. No way anyone that didn't first pass a 200 point inspection was touching my baby.

As Andrew grew, I began to realize that I had to let go a little. His first day in daycare (he was 10 months old) he got a minuscule bruise on his leg, which I promptly pointed out to his teacher. She laughed and said, "Honey, he's gonna get a lot more bruises than that."

We've been through a lot in the past four years. Andrew came early. He was so tiny and looked so fragile. He's been sick. I've said before we should have our own room at the pediatrician's office. For crying out loud, the child has had three sets of ear tubes. He's been hurt. I'm incredibly thankful he has a hard head. He's misbehaved and thrown fits. Guess it just comes with the territory. He's also told me he loves me more times than I can count. He gives spontaneous hugs and kisses. And at night, right before he drifts off and I go in to check on him he asks, "Can you yay with me . . . for just a yittle while?" (Translated: Can you lay with me for just a little while? In case you don't speak preschooler) Through it all, I've had to learn that at the end of the day I really have very little control. Yikes! Over and over again I have to leave Andrew in the hands of God.

Which brings me to my point. Bet you didn't know that was all the pre-show!

The other day I was looking in our pantry, which happens to be very full because of the junk food that made its way back from our vacation, and the thought pops into my head, "This pantry is too full and is a big, ridiculous, disorganized mess". That thought was rapidly followed by, "How selfish can you be? I wonder if our little girl (if she's born yet) has enough food? I wonder if she's hungry?". These kind of thoughts can escalate extremely quickly, "I wonder if she's clean?" "I wonder if she's held?" "I wonder if she's rocked?" "I wonder if she's loved?" . . . things like starvation, neglect, and malnourishment really hit home when you're talking about your own baby.

The truth is I can't answer any of those questions except the last one. The last one I can answer clearly, "Yes, she is loved." She is loved by us, but even more, she is loved by the one true God. I have realized that I cannot follow the line of thinking into which these thoughts lead. It's completely unproductive and causes me to worry about things over which I have no control. But I can pray, and I can give it to God. I can trust Him to bring people into her life that will hold her, that will rock her, that will bathe her, that will feed her, that will be there for her. So you know what? I'm waving the white flag. I surrender. It's not in my hands, and in all honesty, it never was . . .

Surrender (click on the title to hear the song) By Marc James

Lyrics:

I'm giving You my heart All that is within I lay it all down For the sake of You my King I'm giving You my dreams laying down my rights I'm giving up my pride For the promise of new life And I Surrender All to You, all to You I'm singing You this song I'm waiting at the Cross All the world holds dear I count it all as loss For the sake of knowing You For the glory of Your name To know the lasting joy Even sharing in Your pain

Happy Father's Day

Fathers laugh when you do something totally inappropriate and mortifying in a public place and then loudly and proudly ask "do you smell it?" (Just keeping it real here). Fathers wrestle with you and let you "fight them up" right before bedtime so that it takes you approximately six years to settle down and go to sleep. Fathers let you eat McDonalds and grilled cheese every meal for four days while your mom is in bed with the flu. Fathers watch "Finding Nemo" for the 800th time just because you want to (which just happens to be a movie about a father's love for his son). Fathers rescue you from your mother (or rescue your mother from you) when she's on the brink and may or may not be ready to pull two handfuls of hair out.

Fathers protect. Fathers laugh. Fathers play. Fathers lead. Fathers guide. Fathers pray.

Fathers love.

I been blessed twice in my life. First, by a wonderful father to raise, support, and love me. Second, by a wonderful husband who turned out to be an amazing father. I don't think I'm alone when I say, there are few things better than seeing your husband love your child(ren). Happy Father's Day to two amazing men. Thanks for being the dads you are. Your children are blessed because of you.

Hello My Name is Courtney . . .

So I realized today, yeah it takes me a while to catch on to things, that some people may come here thinking it is strictly an adoption blog and then may be annoyed, surprised, shocked, take your pick, when there are posts about everything from adoption to Oreos (Oreos how I love thee). So I thought I'd clear the air a little.

I did start this is a pseudo-adoption blog. We, meaning my husband and myself (as opposed to me and the dogs?), are currently in the process of adopting from Bulgaria. We are waiting for Bulgaria (or at least a little girl from there). Except we are not quite to the "official" waiting stage of the game yet. If you didn't know that then you are probably brand-spanking new to this blog. Hang around for a while.

So yes, one of my main purposes is to chronicle our adoption. All the highs and lows and everything in between. And the everything in between is where all those other posts come in. You know how you were always shocked when you saw one of your teachers shopping or eating out? Like you spent most of your childhood thinking that they ate and slept at the school. Well, sometimes that's kind of what it's like for adoptive families. Adoption never leaves our minds. Just like pregnancy doesn't leave the mind of a pregnant woman. But in between all the craziness of paperwork and waiting, and redoing paperwork, and worrying and stressing, we also have to eat, sleep, play, fight, laugh, and cry. Life still happens.

I've also had a lot of people that know me tell me that they've learned more about me through my blog than they have in years of knowing me. That's because I'm socially inept. Haha! Just kidding (sort of). But the truth is, I'm not an extremely demonstrative person (except with my family), and I've never been the type to walk into a room and have people flock to me. A lot of people think I'm shy. I'm not, I actually talk a lot, but most of the time it takes a long time for me to get comfortable enough to really talk to people (especially in one-on-one situations). There are a few people in this world I click with, and with them I can talk for hours from the get go. But if you've ever thought I'm being rude by not speaking to you, I'm not. I promise! I'm actually racking my brain for something semi-intelligent to say. Nine times out of ten I end up sounding like a moron. Like I said I'm socially inept. Anyway that's where my writing comes in. I've always found it easy to write. When I was very young, I found that writing was a great way to express myself. And so this blog was born (I say that as if it were the birth of something great. Haha! Now that's funny!).

This blog is the story of our lives adoption and all (sounds so poetic). Sometimes it's interesting, sometimes it's hilarious, a lot of times it's probably a little blah, but it is what it is. I hope my kids look back one day and enjoy reading all the craziness. Or they'll look back and think their mom is just plain crazy. Either way welcome to the Funny Farm.

Hungry Anyone?

Ignore the huge box of cookies in the background. We took those on vacation. We didn't eat them. Now they're sitting in my kitchen taunting me.

This is what I'm doing today . . . baking . . . not eating. I've made double chocolate brownies and peanut butter brownies for our youth group's bake sale tomorrow, and I've made a strawberry cake for Patrick's (30th) birthday dinner tonight. Later on I'm going to grill ribs and chicken to go along with some corn on the cob and watermelon (don't worry I'm not grilling the watermelon).

Now see the mixing bowl sitting on top of the stove by the un-iced cake? That's there for a reason. But first I should make a confession. I am not a recipe follower. In the kitchen I'm a rebel. I haphazardly measure (if I measure at all), I don't pay attention to what I'm doing, I've been known to forget ingredients, and I make a ginormous mess. Especially when it comes to baking. Which is why I don't bake all that often. Anyway, in that bowl is the icing for the cake. The icing calls for butter creamed with powdered sugar. Easy enough. I softened the butter, threw it in my mixer, and then for some reason I don't fully understand tossed the (still cold) strawberries I had just pureed on top of it. Shoot a mosquito. That wasn't smart. I knew better, but did it stop me? Nope. Then, because if I don't have some sort of disaster in the kitchen it's not a complete day, I turned on my mixer. Creamed? Not so much. More like chunks of cold butter mixed in with strawberries. So anyway, I set the mixing bowl on a warm burner hoping to soften the butter. But then I had to be careful not to cook the icing. Thank the good Lord it worked. Here's the final result.

And that by the way is double the amount of icing I needed. I drank the rest. Ha!Ha! Just kidding. Now I've gotta run and scrape strawberries off the floor. Not so much kidding about that. Have a fanastic Friday everyone.

For This Child . . .

One of my favorite stories in the Bible is the story of Hannah and Samuel. If you've never read it you can find it in 1 Samuel 1:1. This is the story of a woman who more than anything wanted a child yet could not conceive. In her desperation she cried out to God, and He heard. But Hannah didn't hold on to Samuel. She gave him back to God at a very young age. Just after he was weaned she took him to live at the temple. Many of us can't imagine what it would be like to leave our children at the temple. But Hannah did what she felt God was calling her to do, and while God doesn't call you to literally take your children to live at your church, although some of you may think that's not a bad idea, He does call us to dedicate our children to Him.

One of my favorite scriptures in this passage is 1 Samuel 1:27
^"27 For this child I prayed, and the LORD has granted me my petition which I asked of Him."

Andrew is my first Samuel. I waited a long time for him. I actually wanted to name him Samuel, but with our last name being Davis, Patrick was afraid people would call him Sammy Davis, Jr. (Andrew fits him better anyway). Our daughter will be our second Samuel. I pray for her daily. Right now we hold her in our hearts. One day we will hold her in our arms.

Both of our children belong to God. I don't think that has ever been a question in our lives. Honestly, I'm not sure how people parent without God's guidance and help. Being a parent is not easy. It is so challenging, but it is also so fulfilling. I encourage you today to dedicate your children to God. I encourage you to pray for them. To seek God's guidance in raising them. To trust Him to lead you and guide you and help you to be the best parent you can be. I have no doubt that you will find that the road is so much easier with God's leading and guiding.

The Evolution of a Mother

When I got married I drove a cute, two door Pontiac Grand Am. (Patrick drove a Ford Mustang, in case you care. He still thinks he needs one . . . he's in denial.) Now I drive a Chevy Traverse (which rocks by the way) and my husband not so lovingly calls it the SUVan. Whatever! I will never drive a mini-van. (No offense is meant by that statement. Mini-vans are awesome!)

When we bought our house we had a completely empty bedroom, a guest room, and workout room/office. Now we have a playroom, a guest room/workout room/future baby's room, and a three year old boy's bedroom.

In our first few years of marriage we went to San Francisco a couple times, skiing in Tahoe, to Kauai, Hawaii, South Padre Island, and anywhere else we wanted. We ate when we wanted, shopped when we wanted, and stayed up as late as we wanted (Why would anyone in their right mind get up at 6:30 if they don't have to? Oh yeah, news flash, three year olds are not in their right minds). We used to avoid hotels with lots of "noisy" kids. Now we search them out. The more pee in the pool, the better (you can laugh . . . that was a joke). But in case you didn't know "kid friendly" is code for lots of pee in the pool. I'm just letting you know in advance. Don't worry they use tons of chlorine at "kid friendly" hotels. It's set my eyes on fire more than once.

So what's the point of all this? Am I whining? Actually, no. But as I was leaving Sam's today, with a cart full of food, and a three year old by the hand, it occurred to me how much my life has changed since I got married almost 8 years ago. I used to take a day off of work for myself every so often and save the rest. Now I'm lucky if I make it to May with any sick days left. I've spent so much time in the pediatrician's office in the last 3.5 years that we should have our own room. They could call it the Davis Suite. Sounds good doesn't it?

Our lives are now dictated by nap times, bed times, lunch times, gymnastics classes, swimming lessons . . . you get the picture. My idea of a fun night is to take a hot bath without Andrew bustin' in on me and to get in bed by ten p.m. Try to contain your jealousy. You only wish your life were so exciting.

But as crazy as it all seems, I don't miss my pre-child life (at least not on most days). The other day, I was driving, alone shockingly enough, and Darius Rucker's song "It Won't Be Like This for Long" came on the radio. And as I'm listening to it, I realized that Andrew is almost four. Four! Years! Old! Tears. And then I realized that I'll be 30 in a few days. Thirty! Flood of tears (again I'm joking . . . sort of). And then I realized, that time really does fly by. And it is such a terrifying honor to be a parent, and watch a child grow into an adult.

I'm not the same person I was 8 years ago. I have the wrinkles, bags, spider veins, and a few pounds to prove it. But my life is more blessed, more complete, and more meaningful on it's worst days than it ever was before.