It's been a week of many highs and lows, capped off by some total hilarity today.
The lows started last Friday, when I opened an e-mail from our terrific caseworker. The gist of it was that the adoption process will likely get longer than we ever expected. Our orphanage's license will expire this month, making delays nearly a certainty. As always, they have diligently submitted the proper paperwork, but the powers-that-be often drag their feet with renewals for months.
That day was the first and only time I've cried during this 2-year odyssey. For some reason, my brain cells dredged up a song from a few years back called, "We Thought You'd Be Here By Now." Morale was bad.
Then over Mother's Day weekend, I was loved and pampered extra nicely by my sweet husband and kids. The three children I'm already blessed with pulled me out of my funk, not because they were perfectly behaved or anything, but just because they are mine. I was overwhelmed with gratitude for our three gifts from God, and significantly, for my own mother. An afternoon walking in the woods with my parents, my brother and my own family reminded me exactly how much I have to be grateful for. So many of my friends have already lost their moms, or are still waiting for their first child . . . although it's still difficult to wait, I have no reason to despair.
Anya Rashi's birth mother was on my mind this week too, because of the holiday. I told Anya Rashi I was thinking about her, and said that I bet she wonders where Anya Rashi is living now, or what she looks like now that she's four. But although she brings up her birth parents at times, Anya Rashi wasn't in the mood for talking about them that particular day -- the calendar doesn't mean as much to a 4-year-old, I guess. So I followed her lead and didn't push the subject.
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Then today I got to babysit my godsons, Liam (almost 3) and Quinn (1). Aside from their sheer adorableness, they also made me laugh out loud today. Their golden retriever Larry was part of the package too. While I was making lunch, I heard Liam say, with wonder in his voice:
"Look what Larry made!"
Dog owners know there are no good options here. I stepped into the living room to discover dog barf . . . and Peter offered to clean it up. (He said he'd rather do that than make lunch. Honestly.) He discovered the reason for Larry's sickness: three rocks, each bigger than a quarter. (Why, Larry? Why do you eat rocks?!)
I don't know why, but I can't get Liam's awestruck voice out of my head, and I've laughed many times today when I remember him saying, "Look what Larry made!" I guess I'll take my laughs wherever I can find them during this wait.