Bulgaria Update & USCIS Appointment

Every Friday we get a "Bulgaria Update" from our adoption agency. Sometimes it's full of exciting news such as a family receiving a referral. Other times it's more a compilation of tidbits of information that we may (or may not) need to know (depending on our current status). Every single week it lists the number of families that are in the various stages of the adoption process. Right now we are in the category of "paperwork" families, but we are so very close to being out of that paperwork category. I've said it before, but so much of the adoption process is out of our hands, and even if you're a get it done yesterday kind of person, like myself, you can't force everyone else to get things done on your timeline. Still, I look forward to the day when we are listed as "MOJ registered". Hopefully, we'll be there by the end of the year.

I've also been meaning to give you a rundown of our fingerprinting trip to USCIS. Our appointment was on the 11th at 3:00 pm in San Antonio. Even with me giving the directions (I had both the Garmin and Google Maps going . . . I'm severely directionally challenged), we arrived an hour early. I like to get places early. Being late irritates the heck out of me. We decided to go in and see if they could get us taken care of. But first, we took all electronic devices out of our purses (that should really say purse, but it doesn't sound right)and pockets so that we wouldn't be tempted to reveal the top secret goings ons of the San Antonio USCIS office (which happens to be located in a shopping center).

As soon as we walked through the doors, we were greeted by a friendly lady, and she informed us that we had actually "come at a perfect time". Yay! for the little things. We didn't walk through medical detectors. No one checked our stuff. I so could've taken every electronic device I own in that place. We were asked to fill out an insanely basic information form, and after I finished with my form, the lady clipped my driver's license and info sheet together with a number and asked me to have a seat. Patrick was still filling out his form. I have no idea why it was taking him so long. No sooner had I plopped my not so little bottom in the chair, then they called me back. Patrick? He was just finishing up his form. I was just glad I was ahead of him. I like to finish first. I'm competitive that way.

Sidenote: When I was in school and college, I finished my tests as quickly as I could without looking them over so that I could be the first one to turn them in. This may have affected my GPA but not much. Also, if you are one of my students and think you're going to try this in my classroom, you've got another thing coming buster.  Sidenote over.

So, the lady started fingerprinting me. Now for those of you who had to be ink fingerprinted, like us, it's nice to have someone that knows what they're doing fingerprinting you. I'm not saying the police officers that did our prints here in Mayberry weren't nice, but man, the lady that did my prints at the USCIS office was on the ball. Plus, she had a huge computer monitor that showed every detail of my prints. Which begs the question, "Why did we have to do ink prints?". Right after we got started, Patrick was called back and they started his fingerprinting on the other side of the room. Then my dang computer started beeping, and we had to start redoing my prints again and again and again. . .

I was starting to tense up. Sweat was poring down my back. The lady doing my prints was getting really irritated. And to make it even worse, I could tell that Patrick wasn't having any problems. Then I started having flashbacks to the ink prints we had to do and the supposed illegibility of mine, and I fell on the floor screaming, "Make it stop, make it stop!!!". Okay, almost all of this paragraph up to this point is a lie (except for the part about Patrick having no problems), but without it this story would be insanely boring. So way too long story short, Patrick's prints were done at the same time as mine even though I started before him. My left hand didn't want to cooperate, and so, we did have to redo them, but the lady, who was very patient, finally got them. And of course the other lady oohed and aahed over what great prints my husband had. Back off lady . . . you can't have him. Now all we have to do is wait for our approval letters.

And just in case . . . if you happen to know or be related to anyone who works at the USCIS office in San Antonio, can you please tell them what a great job they did? The service was awesome. That's all.

Enjoy your weekend everyone!

What do fingerprints & salsa have in common?

Edit: We are done! Took less than 5 minutes, and that was having to redo my left hand 27 times (slight exaggeration . . . I think my mom believed me when I said that). Now we are praying that our acceptance letter arrives very soon.

We are on our way to get fingerprinted with USCIS. We can't take our phones in with us so I'm gonna be without any connection to the world for a bit. Isn't it sad how addicted we get to the Internet? I mean a year ago I wasn't even on Facebook. Now I can't live without my iPhone.

Anyway, they won't let me take my video camera in either. You know because I was planning on taking it in and revealing all their secrets to the world. So I'm blogging while we drive to keep my mind off of my husband's driving. He's already tried to squeeze us between an 18 wheeler and a septic truck. It could've been really bad. I may or may not have lost it . . . just a bit.

Like five minutes before we left . . . I just had to stop writing and tell Patrick to watch the road . . . now I'm lost. Oh yeah, right before we left I dumped a whole container of freshly made salsa all over my kitchen floor and inside one of my bottom cabinets. I was so mad. And then Andrew kept asking, "Why'd you make that mess Mom?". Seriously, I had to bite my tongue because I was not a happy camper. But it wasn't his fault. I got the mess cleaned, we dropped Andrew off with my sister, and got on the road to San Antonio.

Now my fingers are starting to cramp and Patrick is starting to scare the living daylights out of me. I need to go scream "brake lights!" over and over to remind him he's not alone on the road. Have a great afternoon everyone.

And fingerprints and salsa have nothing in common . . . in case you were wondering.

Sorry for mistakes I'm doing this on my phone. :)

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)!

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.