For those of you who are not Ukrainian adoption blog junkies, I need to tell you a little story. A little background: we have the great blessing of being part of a community of families that live reasonably close by that are all adopting from Ukraine. There are seven families (I can think of) that are in the process of or have adopted from Ukraine. We share needed information and wisdom obtained from the process and travel to the said foreign country and most importantly, we allow the children to visit each other in hopes of letting them know they are not alone here in this big alien country. There are other children here just like them.
One of our families we sent off in early November with much love and prayer. As is expected, they spent long and sometimes frustrating days in the old country waiting for impossibly slow paper work. They were there for some 45 days. It looked as if they would be there for Christmas. At the last minute, the last of the paperwork was secured (thank you US Embassy!). And on Christmas Eve, at 4:15 pm, the new family entered the main terminal at Denver International Airport. I was there, all smiles and hugs to welcome them home at last. I wasn't sure how many of our community would be there seeing it was Christmas Eve and all but eventually almost all the families came with Russian speaking children in tow. It was wonderful.
It was a child's Christmas in Colorado this year. What an awesome gift. What a beautiful memory.
Us
Friday, December 26, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
Nesting
We have officially asked for our third child, a sweetie named Vika (or Victoria) who turned 10 last summer. I smile as I look at her picture taken last March with hair cut super-short for lice control, she kinda looks like me. I overflow with empathy. Naw. She's cute. I'll be able to show photos later but I have to be careful for reasons I will tell later (if I don't, remind me). With Nastia turning 8 on the 22nd of December, Sasha at 11 in September and Vika at 10 last July, people will think I really cranked out the kids! Hey Folks, this is a great way to have a passel of kids close together and not have to go through the multiple sleepless nights of the infant/toddler phase. I feel like I got away with something. At least until college. Hmmmmm. ("Honey, how much do we have in our college fund?!")
Finishing up the house. Out comes the paint. I noticed a few spots on the ceiling in the purple room, the one that will house two girls. I can't imagine trying to finish this with people actually living in it so best fix it now. I remember when I first painted this room. Its the first room I ever painted a feminine color. Josh had moved out to attend CU and I wanted a guest room for Mom and buddy De. When I had the paint mixed, the guy put the can on the counter and said flatly, "Here's your ugly purple paint, lady." I saw the twinkle in his eye. My cue. I let him know in mock self-righteousness that I had put up with three brothers and two sons and was ready to openly embrace my feminine side! Well, I didn't say that exactly, but I could have here in Boulder, Colorado. Didn't know then that I would invite others to "embrace my feminine side" so personally. Ah, life does have its twists, doesn't it?
We have been fortunate to find a great deal of needed furniture, used. The only thing we need now is two twin bed frames. Canopy beds please. White iron prefered. Without the little hump in the top. Cheap. Less than one hundred each, thank you. What? You aren't Santa? Bummer. Guess I'll have to go shopping tomorrow. Not such a bummer. Bed frames, even canopies aren't very much more than that and I should be able to find them new.
Photos: UL- One brave husband, painting the house. With every weekend we spent painting it ourselves, we were sure we saved $10,000 more bucks.
UR-Moving back into the bigger family room (excuse the disorder). The new part is marked with a line next to the mantel, since painted to match the rest of the room.
LR- Extended breakfast room. I got the biggest window I could without having to go to a more expensive shatterproof glass. Note classy cat door on lower left. Sliding glass door is just to the left in that room.
I'll try and dig up a "before" photo for our out-of-state friends.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Plane Tickets
The first thing you do after recovering from the shock of learning your appointment date is to buy plane tickets. I've been reading blogs on people who have gone, are going, or are in Ukraine right now adopting kids. Even if they are infrequent writers, they always write about buying their plane tickets. I've wondered about this odd, subconscious response to the invitation to come. Buying the ticket is logical. Blogging it seems odd to me. I think it is the globally verbal acceptance of the invitation.
If that's what it is then "I do." I'll come and adopt these kids. Here is my proof for all to hear. A purchased plane ticket. I'm coming. January 16th at 10:15am, we are getting on a plane that will take us to points east and the next leg of our life's adventure.
I'm calming down some. Last week, I resembled the apparition from "The Scream," but his week, having bought the ticket, ordered money, and prayed over and kissed another Ukraine-bound friend goodbye, I'm settling down a little. With one exception. The truth is I'm a homebody.
I love living in Colorado. There is very little about it not to love. But there are about 8 weeks in the winter when I wish I were somewhere else. God in his great mercy and grace has blessed us with another place to be during that time this year, it doesn't matter that its Ukraine and not Cancun. I'm coming home with impressive souvenirs! But we are going to be gone very long and we don't know when we are coming home! Home, where my friends and family roam. Where the cats purr and the coyotes yip at night (really!). Home, where NPR reports on lipstick on pigs and my womens Bible study meets on Wednesday mornings. Where Tchaikovsky plays and my books lie waiting silently for me. I love home. I'm rather attached to it. I don't even like long vacations. It's not being in a foreign country or not understanding the culture or not speaking the language and being misunderstood or even wondering who God will give us as children, I dread. We have been down that road before! The worst thing is having the whole affair drag on and on. Seven weeks, eight weeks, Rolan must return to the job he left. I'm alone in Ukraine. Arg! Even a pregnant woman knows the thing must end after a fashion. It always does. Okay, does anyone out there know of anyone who went and never came back?
Of course, I'm being silly. Even so, could you please pray for a quick adoption? Thank you.
If that's what it is then "I do." I'll come and adopt these kids. Here is my proof for all to hear. A purchased plane ticket. I'm coming. January 16th at 10:15am, we are getting on a plane that will take us to points east and the next leg of our life's adventure.
I'm calming down some. Last week, I resembled the apparition from "The Scream," but his week, having bought the ticket, ordered money, and prayed over and kissed another Ukraine-bound friend goodbye, I'm settling down a little. With one exception. The truth is I'm a homebody.
I love living in Colorado. There is very little about it not to love. But there are about 8 weeks in the winter when I wish I were somewhere else. God in his great mercy and grace has blessed us with another place to be during that time this year, it doesn't matter that its Ukraine and not Cancun. I'm coming home with impressive souvenirs! But we are going to be gone very long and we don't know when we are coming home! Home, where my friends and family roam. Where the cats purr and the coyotes yip at night (really!). Home, where NPR reports on lipstick on pigs and my womens Bible study meets on Wednesday mornings. Where Tchaikovsky plays and my books lie waiting silently for me. I love home. I'm rather attached to it. I don't even like long vacations. It's not being in a foreign country or not understanding the culture or not speaking the language and being misunderstood or even wondering who God will give us as children, I dread. We have been down that road before! The worst thing is having the whole affair drag on and on. Seven weeks, eight weeks, Rolan must return to the job he left. I'm alone in Ukraine. Arg! Even a pregnant woman knows the thing must end after a fashion. It always does. Okay, does anyone out there know of anyone who went and never came back?
Of course, I'm being silly. Even so, could you please pray for a quick adoption? Thank you.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
INAUGURATION !
On Tuesday, January 20th Barack Obama will be inaugurated in Washington DC.
On January 20th in Kiev Ukraine, Rolan and I will also be ushered into an other office . . . !
On January 20th in Kiev Ukraine, Rolan and I will also be ushered into an other office . . . !
Twenty Hats
Before our adoption buddies Heidi and Felix left, Heidi asked for donations of hats, scarves and mittens to take to the children. I love to work with my hands, especially when watching TV, so I wondered if I could maybe make some in my spare time. Not worth the trouble to make mittens (you can buy a pair at Target for $1) but I made the girls scarves before they left for Ukraine out of the vast piles of yarn left over from my afghan projects (the blanket type not the people). Well, why not just use the rest for hats and scarves for the whole orphanage? I have a LOT of yarn. I've made a lot of afghans. I knew the day would come when all those remnants could be used to warm the world. My day has come.
When you buy a ball of yarn, you are committed to it. You can't return it. Retailers don't take them back because so many people tried to return skeins that had, say, a yard they needed and so was missing, from a 315 yard skein. Honestly, its hard to tell if there is a yard missing, even for a retailer, and its dishonest to try and resell a 315 yard skein that has only 314 yards in it. Sorry, I know, its a knitting thing. Anyway, what you end up with, if you do any significant yarnwork at all, is a big basket full of remnants and unused skeins. I was bored of making scarves and thought I would broaden my needlework knowledge horizon a little and make some hats.
I wonder how many I can make with the yarn I still have. Care to make a wager? If you're right you can have a free . . . hat.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Practicing Waiting
I remember a commercial for something years ago. Can't recall what they were selling but I retained a great lesson in patience.
There was a young chauffeur standing by a black limo nonchalantly polishing the hood ornament. A rather imposing older gentleman approaches him and barks, "What are you doing Charles?!" Charles rights himself smartly and responds, "Practicing waiting, Sir." The older gentleman was satisfied with the answer and moved on to the next trainee.
Every once in a while in life, I feel like I'm "practicing waiting," trying very hard not to burst with impatience over the next high point in the roller coaster ride. I have to keep the adrenaline in check somehow and not let it get the better of me, causing me to do things I may regret later like purchasing unuseable stuff. So I have to keep myself busy. Polish the hood ornament, that sort of thing.
We are waiting for our appointment date. Sigh. They are required to give you some sort of answer in 20 days (I'm assuming business) after the Dossier was submitted. Don't know for sure when the doss was submitted, but I'm thinkin' that was probably Nov 4th (election day, remember?). We could be waiting a few more weeks here. Thus the need to keep practicing (see above).
Well, I promised our boys that when they grew up and moved out, they could take their bedroom furniture with them to furnish their new bach pads, be they ever so meager. Our young men are long gone and their furniture with them. The new rooms we are preparing for the girls need a few things. Then God blessed the world with Craig's List. A free, on-line means of selling just about anything, from one private party to another. Okay, God used Craig but "All good things come from God," as the scriptures say. I haven't used Craig's List a great deal but it seems there is enough furniture posted each day to furnish even the sparsest household in about a week, if you wanted. I have to ask myself, "If we don't get the girls or we don't get three as we hope, would this piece of furniture work?" I don't want to ask itjat question. I want three girls! Such is the internal struggle. How does one solve this delemma?
It could be more difficult than expected to get the three we hope for. I was told, it could be quite difficult to get a third unrelated child. Sasha is 11, Nastia will be 8 and then a yet unkown 13 or 14 year old. So, do we purchase furniture for 2 and then send out a purchasing committee if we are in the process of three? Or purchase for 2 and then purchase for another, after we return home, should our dreams come true? I hear it is good to have the home ready for all and shows the children they are wanted and planned for. Therefore one must purchase for three and face the possible risk of going through the painful process of selling the unneeded furniture on Craig's List when one gets home with only two. Hmmmm.
I guess one doesn't polish the hood ornament without thinking.
There was a young chauffeur standing by a black limo nonchalantly polishing the hood ornament. A rather imposing older gentleman approaches him and barks, "What are you doing Charles?!" Charles rights himself smartly and responds, "Practicing waiting, Sir." The older gentleman was satisfied with the answer and moved on to the next trainee.
Every once in a while in life, I feel like I'm "practicing waiting," trying very hard not to burst with impatience over the next high point in the roller coaster ride. I have to keep the adrenaline in check somehow and not let it get the better of me, causing me to do things I may regret later like purchasing unuseable stuff. So I have to keep myself busy. Polish the hood ornament, that sort of thing.
We are waiting for our appointment date. Sigh. They are required to give you some sort of answer in 20 days (I'm assuming business) after the Dossier was submitted. Don't know for sure when the doss was submitted, but I'm thinkin' that was probably Nov 4th (election day, remember?). We could be waiting a few more weeks here. Thus the need to keep practicing (see above).
Well, I promised our boys that when they grew up and moved out, they could take their bedroom furniture with them to furnish their new bach pads, be they ever so meager. Our young men are long gone and their furniture with them. The new rooms we are preparing for the girls need a few things. Then God blessed the world with Craig's List. A free, on-line means of selling just about anything, from one private party to another. Okay, God used Craig but "All good things come from God," as the scriptures say. I haven't used Craig's List a great deal but it seems there is enough furniture posted each day to furnish even the sparsest household in about a week, if you wanted. I have to ask myself, "If we don't get the girls or we don't get three as we hope, would this piece of furniture work?" I don't want to ask itjat question. I want three girls! Such is the internal struggle. How does one solve this delemma?
It could be more difficult than expected to get the three we hope for. I was told, it could be quite difficult to get a third unrelated child. Sasha is 11, Nastia will be 8 and then a yet unkown 13 or 14 year old. So, do we purchase furniture for 2 and then send out a purchasing committee if we are in the process of three? Or purchase for 2 and then purchase for another, after we return home, should our dreams come true? I hear it is good to have the home ready for all and shows the children they are wanted and planned for. Therefore one must purchase for three and face the possible risk of going through the painful process of selling the unneeded furniture on Craig's List when one gets home with only two. Hmmmm.
I guess one doesn't polish the hood ornament without thinking.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
The Dust Settles
Even though it means our Sasha and Nastia must wait a little longer, our advocate/facilitator over there in Ukraine, tells us we probably won't go until February. I'm a little relieved. I was dreading going over during Christmas due to the expensive flights, Holiday closures of Ukrainian government offices, and leaving our boys (tho they be grown) without us during Christmas time.
I've heard there is a Ukrainian family interested in our girls who are waiting.
It is good to know Jesus during these times.
I've heard there is a Ukrainian family interested in our girls who are waiting.
It is good to know Jesus during these times.
Monday, November 10, 2008
AH! AH! AH! (The quiet is broken by shrieks)
You know those shows where decorators kick homeowners out of their homes and then the decorators totally redo a room? The homeowners come back and have to close their eyes and then they open their eyes, take in the transformed room, gasp and yell, "OH MY GOSH!" That's kind of what Ro and I did.
Our friends Heidi and Felix left Friday on their own quest for adoptive children from Ukraine. They have the same facilitator and asked when our dossier would be submitted to the State Department. She told them it was. Just last week! See, when one submits a doss to the State Department on behalf of an adoptive family, it is customary to inform the said adoptive family that one has done so via e-mail. No such e-mail was sent. We knew there was a good chance it would be soon but didn't know for sure. Such things are a mystery.
The "OH MY GOSH," comes in realization that for sure we will be going to Ukraine before the end of the year! The State Department has 20 days (business days?) to look over our precious packet of papers and declare us unfit for parenting Ukrainian children or fit and then give us a date and time to bring our nervous and trembling bodies into their office for an interview. We have friends going for a Dec 10 appointment date so it will be later. Christmas? Sounds so romantic but I think finding flights now would be a nightmare! So we wait on pins and needles. Any day now we will hear the the starter gun fire and then the frantic preparations . . .
Our friends Heidi and Felix left Friday on their own quest for adoptive children from Ukraine. They have the same facilitator and asked when our dossier would be submitted to the State Department. She told them it was. Just last week! See, when one submits a doss to the State Department on behalf of an adoptive family, it is customary to inform the said adoptive family that one has done so via e-mail. No such e-mail was sent. We knew there was a good chance it would be soon but didn't know for sure. Such things are a mystery.
The "OH MY GOSH," comes in realization that for sure we will be going to Ukraine before the end of the year! The State Department has 20 days (business days?) to look over our precious packet of papers and declare us unfit for parenting Ukrainian children or fit and then give us a date and time to bring our nervous and trembling bodies into their office for an interview. We have friends going for a Dec 10 appointment date so it will be later. Christmas? Sounds so romantic but I think finding flights now would be a nightmare! So we wait on pins and needles. Any day now we will hear the the starter gun fire and then the frantic preparations . . .
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
All Is Quiet
Dossier has arrived. Was signed for (so says the tracking number information) Oct 8th. Now the great wait. Our facilitator in Kiev will work on translating the many documents. Each individual document has a special piece of paper stapled twice on the left edge that covers the original with the name of the notary that signed it and the approval of the state commissioner. There are about 25 documents. She has her work cut out for her.
I must confess, the very hardest part for me in this journey, is leaving my home for 4+ weeks. I do love to travel and explore but get restless to return to my nest after a couple of weeks. Not sure how I'm going to remedy this discomfort when there is no set return date. So now is the best time to do what I can to prepare as thoroughly as possible for that time. I'm reading other blogs, keeping up on my scant Russian and pestering my Ukrainian adoption buddies for information. (Word on the street is one of my buddies has 15 pages of stuff to bring!) Rolan has switched to Russian instead of Ukrainian language CD's to listen to on his way to work. Hunting for constructive stuff to do while we wait for papers, court dates, etc. Ideas are welcome. I've heard the boredom gets to you. As a last resort, I could bring a suitcase full of books, magazines and yarn to make poor unsuspecting children scarves and afghans. (Actually, that doesn't sound too bad.) I would love to plant fruit trees or a veggie garden with the kids depending on the time of year and the tools available. Something to look into. Anyway, I think the more prepared I am, the more I will look forward to going and actually enjoy the time we are there.
It's really hard to say when we will go. There is a rumor that the 2008 quotas are not met so they are still giving appts even into Dec. February? March? Unknown. New Ukraine law weeded out the international singles and older adopters so the lines aren't as long as in the past. People who have already submitted their documents are getting in sooner than expected. We are on pins and needles watching our buddies bring kids home, get appointment dates and make flight reservations! When will our turn come?
I'm a little twisted but this is fun.
I must confess, the very hardest part for me in this journey, is leaving my home for 4+ weeks. I do love to travel and explore but get restless to return to my nest after a couple of weeks. Not sure how I'm going to remedy this discomfort when there is no set return date. So now is the best time to do what I can to prepare as thoroughly as possible for that time. I'm reading other blogs, keeping up on my scant Russian and pestering my Ukrainian adoption buddies for information. (Word on the street is one of my buddies has 15 pages of stuff to bring!) Rolan has switched to Russian instead of Ukrainian language CD's to listen to on his way to work. Hunting for constructive stuff to do while we wait for papers, court dates, etc. Ideas are welcome. I've heard the boredom gets to you. As a last resort, I could bring a suitcase full of books, magazines and yarn to make poor unsuspecting children scarves and afghans. (Actually, that doesn't sound too bad.) I would love to plant fruit trees or a veggie garden with the kids depending on the time of year and the tools available. Something to look into. Anyway, I think the more prepared I am, the more I will look forward to going and actually enjoy the time we are there.
It's really hard to say when we will go. There is a rumor that the 2008 quotas are not met so they are still giving appts even into Dec. February? March? Unknown. New Ukraine law weeded out the international singles and older adopters so the lines aren't as long as in the past. People who have already submitted their documents are getting in sooner than expected. We are on pins and needles watching our buddies bring kids home, get appointment dates and make flight reservations! When will our turn come?
I'm a little twisted but this is fun.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
"Houston, We Have Contact!"
When you are waiting for signs of life from the kids you love, it seems like they are on a planet in another solar system.
Here is proof our letter was received!
Thank you AZ!
Friday, October 3, 2008
Dossier Away!
I'm embarrassed to say how long we have been working on this thing. It took extra long and then we had to update almost all of it. ("Excuse me, yes, I know, I'm sorry but this has to be done over again because . . .") But now it is updated and the dates should be good til the end of January. Seems like enough time but my hunch is that we will have to do more updating before this portion of the show is over. Other people aren't getting their papers submitted in less than six months and as special as I think I am, I bet ours will be like that or worse on account of the gov over yonder liking to take January off. That just means we pay moocha mulla to mail more updated documents when January comes and goes. I digress.
So, sniff, it is with hankies waving we bid THE ALMIGHTY DOSSIER godspeed.
On the up side, a good Ukrainian lady that does adoption work is seeing the girls today and sending them our love with a letter.
AND Frontier Horizons is going over at the end of the month. They said they would take the girls a package for us!
So, sniff, it is with hankies waving we bid THE ALMIGHTY DOSSIER godspeed.
On the up side, a good Ukrainian lady that does adoption work is seeing the girls today and sending them our love with a letter.
AND Frontier Horizons is going over at the end of the month. They said they would take the girls a package for us!
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Sasha the Teacher
It has been a month now since Sasha and Nastiya had to go back to Ukraine. They taught me lessons this summer. These are lessons I quickly forget, so I am writing this down to help me remember.
This lesson is from Sasha.
We were on vacation at a family camp in the redwoods near Santa Cruz. A train ride down to Santa Cruz was planned one day. The train had open cars. The train would stop at the boardwalk in Santa Cruz, on the beach. Had the girls ever seen the ocean?
I tried to tell Sasha all the things that were going to happen, but she was in a rebellious mood. "No sleep. No eat." She was telling me she did not want to do anything. How could I explain to her in a way she could understand? My Russian was poor, her English was poor, pantomiming seldom got across the correct idea.
I could not let her miss this opportunity, so I picked her up out of bed, grabbed a bag with a change of clothes, and started walking to the place where people were gathering to catch a ride to the train. For half the distance, she struggled and fought to get out of my grasp. She finally realized I had enough strength to force her to do what I wanted. She then decided that she did not want to be seen in her pajamas. I found a place for her to change into her clothes.
We rode the train. We ran on the beach, and found shells, and big clumps of icky sea weed. We ate fresh fish at a restaurant on the pier. We saw sea lions. We rode many rides on the boardwalk. We gave both girls disposable cameras so they could remember their day on the beach, and the pictures were quickly used up. It was a very good day.
The lesson? How often does God come to me and say, "I have something great planned. We don't communicate well, so I can't begin to make you understand just how great it's going to be. But it will be awesome. Come on! Let's go!" And what do I usually say? "I'm comfortable here. I like this routine. I don't want to do something unfamiliar. I don't trust you." Unlike my story with Sasha, God usually lets me stay where I am, where things slowly becomes less enjoyable, and I miss the great thing God had planned. Just as Sasha did not trust me, I do not trust God.
If we can get Sasha and Nastiya back, there will many more opportunities for learning trust. And I hope that my eyes can remain open to the lessons these girls are teaching me.
I Cor. 2:9 - "... 'No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him'"
This lesson is from Sasha.
We were on vacation at a family camp in the redwoods near Santa Cruz. A train ride down to Santa Cruz was planned one day. The train had open cars. The train would stop at the boardwalk in Santa Cruz, on the beach. Had the girls ever seen the ocean?
I tried to tell Sasha all the things that were going to happen, but she was in a rebellious mood. "No sleep. No eat." She was telling me she did not want to do anything. How could I explain to her in a way she could understand? My Russian was poor, her English was poor, pantomiming seldom got across the correct idea.
I could not let her miss this opportunity, so I picked her up out of bed, grabbed a bag with a change of clothes, and started walking to the place where people were gathering to catch a ride to the train. For half the distance, she struggled and fought to get out of my grasp. She finally realized I had enough strength to force her to do what I wanted. She then decided that she did not want to be seen in her pajamas. I found a place for her to change into her clothes.
We rode the train. We ran on the beach, and found shells, and big clumps of icky sea weed. We ate fresh fish at a restaurant on the pier. We saw sea lions. We rode many rides on the boardwalk. We gave both girls disposable cameras so they could remember their day on the beach, and the pictures were quickly used up. It was a very good day.
The lesson? How often does God come to me and say, "I have something great planned. We don't communicate well, so I can't begin to make you understand just how great it's going to be. But it will be awesome. Come on! Let's go!" And what do I usually say? "I'm comfortable here. I like this routine. I don't want to do something unfamiliar. I don't trust you." Unlike my story with Sasha, God usually lets me stay where I am, where things slowly becomes less enjoyable, and I miss the great thing God had planned. Just as Sasha did not trust me, I do not trust God.
If we can get Sasha and Nastiya back, there will many more opportunities for learning trust. And I hope that my eyes can remain open to the lessons these girls are teaching me.
I Cor. 2:9 - "... 'No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him'"
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Papers and Other Terrors
The construction company is officially finished.
So I says to myself, "Why in the world should I pay a contractor to paint my house when I am perfectly capable of doing it myself?"
The new addition outside.
"I'll save a bundle for sure!"
Its a split level so the eaves are way up there.
"I like to paint."
The kitchen addition inside too.
"It will just take a few days."
Five days of painting. I'm tired of painting. Its really quite amazing how much paint we've accumulated in the 15 years we've been here. At least 5 different gallons of "white" and I still can't find the "white" that matches the ceiling in the kitchen. I'm starting to think 'Hillsborough Beige' looks exactly like the nylons I used to buy. The rough-wood-gray-outside-stain stuff is like water. Do you really just put it on with a roller? It's so drippy. I bet it would work better if I just poured it on the siding from the upstairs window.
(Haven't done that one yet but I'm tempted.)
So miss the girls. I don't even have their address. Not a good feeling. I'm working on it by pleading with people that have connections over there. I'm hoping Sasha will write a letter and send it in one of the SASE I gave her. Of course, they don't have a return addresses on them . . .
Painting the house is such a downer after the great summer we had together. Oh gee, I guess I'll clean out the game closet next week. Doesn't that sound exciting?
(Sorry, just a little bitterness seeping through.)
Papers. Yeah. I keep thinking that any day now we will be able to send our dossier over the great ocean to the country beyond (that would be Ukraine). We send papers to the lady that checks them very carefully to see if there are any booboos and she tells us there are corrections that need to be made and we make them and send them back and then she tells us there are some more papers. Its kind of like painting. Do you ever finish, really? But I think we are almost ready this time! When she finally says they are okay, I have to take the whole bundle down to Denver where the lord high keeper of the notaries will check to make sure the notaries are really notarized to be notaries and not just people with fancy embossing equipment maniacally stamping otherwise innocent looking papers just for kicks. I can't wait.
I wonder if they really ever find notaries that aren't notarized.
So I says to myself, "Why in the world should I pay a contractor to paint my house when I am perfectly capable of doing it myself?"
The new addition outside.
"I'll save a bundle for sure!"
Its a split level so the eaves are way up there.
"I like to paint."
The kitchen addition inside too.
"It will just take a few days."
Five days of painting. I'm tired of painting. Its really quite amazing how much paint we've accumulated in the 15 years we've been here. At least 5 different gallons of "white" and I still can't find the "white" that matches the ceiling in the kitchen. I'm starting to think 'Hillsborough Beige' looks exactly like the nylons I used to buy. The rough-wood-gray-outside-stain stuff is like water. Do you really just put it on with a roller? It's so drippy. I bet it would work better if I just poured it on the siding from the upstairs window.
(Haven't done that one yet but I'm tempted.)
So miss the girls. I don't even have their address. Not a good feeling. I'm working on it by pleading with people that have connections over there. I'm hoping Sasha will write a letter and send it in one of the SASE I gave her. Of course, they don't have a return addresses on them . . .
Painting the house is such a downer after the great summer we had together. Oh gee, I guess I'll clean out the game closet next week. Doesn't that sound exciting?
(Sorry, just a little bitterness seeping through.)
Papers. Yeah. I keep thinking that any day now we will be able to send our dossier over the great ocean to the country beyond (that would be Ukraine). We send papers to the lady that checks them very carefully to see if there are any booboos and she tells us there are corrections that need to be made and we make them and send them back and then she tells us there are some more papers. Its kind of like painting. Do you ever finish, really? But I think we are almost ready this time! When she finally says they are okay, I have to take the whole bundle down to Denver where the lord high keeper of the notaries will check to make sure the notaries are really notarized to be notaries and not just people with fancy embossing equipment maniacally stamping otherwise innocent looking papers just for kicks. I can't wait.
I wonder if they really ever find notaries that aren't notarized.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Comfort of the Fuzz Therapists
Saying "goodbye" to our two little darlings was one of the hardest things ever! What in the world are my daughters-to-be doing halfway around the world? I want to go get them right now! Too many tears at the airport.
Jesus, please protect them from discouragement, evil and mean people. Let us get there quickly for their sakes (okay, mine too).
Today the house is too quiet.
In times like these, I turn to my ever-ready, highly-trained, fuzz therapists. These compact professionals are standing by to remind me during these very emergencies that life is, indeed, good and all will be well.
Today, I need my fuzz therapists.
Cindy, HTFT (Highly Trained Fuzz Therapist)
Jesus, please protect them from discouragement, evil and mean people. Let us get there quickly for their sakes (okay, mine too).
Today the house is too quiet.
In times like these, I turn to my ever-ready, highly-trained, fuzz therapists. These compact professionals are standing by to remind me during these very emergencies that life is, indeed, good and all will be well.
Today, I need my fuzz therapists.
Cindy, HTFT (Highly Trained Fuzz Therapist)
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Chew on This
I watched Nastia take a bite of a small piece of watermelon. She doesn't have an under bite but she chews that way. We had taken them both to the dentist, just for a look, earlier that summer. He told us that Sasha has fillings (though poor ones). Her decay would be lost over the next year because they were inhabiting baby teeth. Nastia had no fillings and 6 cavities that were, indeed, causing her not a little discomfort.
I borrowed Heidi's host kid teens to play with Sash and told Nast that we were going somewhere together. On the way, I told Nastia that Ukraine dentists were not so good and American dentists were good and that I wanted to help her teeth not hurt so much. She accepted that.
She was amazing. A little nitrous oxide and one hour later and we went home without so much as a whimper. After the Novocaine wore off, she wanted to know WHEN WE CAN GO BACK! I had already made a second appt for this week. She practically jumped up and down! "I hurt here and here and here," she said. "Okay, I'll tell him that."
After the second appt today, she said she has no more pain.
Good dentists. Just another blessing we take for granted.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Life with the Koopatzah Sisters
I hope you have interpreted my silence to mean I'm busy. Yes. Understatement. But not exhausted. I've experienced that before with difficult foster children. This is nothing like that. That was a bad sort of busy. This is the kind of busy where you end up saying to yourself, "I don't know where this will end up but I sure am glad I spend the summer this way." And, "I can't really think of a better way to spend a summer." I wish I could have brochures at travel agencies recommending the highlights of Ukrainian orphan child hosting. You will never see your world the same way again. That is what I would say. You will come to appreciate fresh produce (the actual food, not the clothing line) consumed in quantities that would make a teenager blush, your own set of clothes (that no one else wears), and sofa beds (which elicit squeals of delight). I love hearing Nastia say, " Oh, Vow!" over the most mundane things. When was the last time a sofa bed made you laugh? I thought so.
Sasha and Nastia's last name isn't really Koopatzah. I renamed them that. I have absolutely no doubt that some well-meaning person, wanting to encourage them told them they would go swimming EVERY DAY. How do I know this? They demand it, the plead for it, they put the word firmly in my mouth even when what I'm trying to say doesn't even remotely sound like "koopatzah." Every mud hole we pass en route to any destination is met with the plea for koopatzah. Rolan has promised every Sunday afternoon at the city pool.
I found out what impresses them when we gave them disposable cameras on vacation. They smartly marched over to the over-stuffed fridge, opened the door and took a picture. They thought the California palm trees were funny (my Grandfather from Holland thought they looked like toilet brushes), and as with us all, the vast beauty of the ocean. Sasha had me take a photo of her holding a large wad of seaweed extended at her arms length. There are so many new foods, experiences, undiscovered treasures. It is there through the eyes of a child.
You need a lesson in gratitude? Host an orphan.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Drama at the Christoffersons
When I said, "I AM THE DRAMA QUEEN!" I was really referring to my ability to intentionally over dramatize otherwise undramatic situations. I didn't mean I wanted drama to happen in my life! I prefer to create it myself, thank you very much.
So the reason why I haven't been keeping you updated, Gentle Readers, is because one of our dear children became sick just less than 24 hours after arriving. We all know and perhaps have first hand experience of having stomach flu after you arrive to a foreign country? Not so pleasant , eh? Okay, say you are a 10 year old girl without prior travel experience and the person who is taking care of you is NOT a medical professional, and they don't speak your language except to say, "Are you hurt?" or "Are you nauseas?" or "Do you have diarrhea?" and you cant keep anything down. There you have it, Gentle Readers. That is Sasha for the first 6 days of American Experience.
I thought I was in hell and I'm positive Sasha thought the same 'cause said she wanted to go home.
We took her to the ER on Sunday morn because she was so badly dehydrated. Yes, they did the IV thing. It hurt the whole 2 hours. We took her home with meds. No improvement. I was so frustrated and helpless. After we got home, I wanted her to see a doc who could check her lab results, but our system is . . . we pre-empt this post to protect the writer from sinning in word.
You get the idea.
A benevolent friend who is a nurse-practitioner returned home from vacation just in time to intercept another visit to the ER. He was able to help us use the $22 a pill meds to Sasha's best advantage and prescribe more to get her happy and well again in less than 48 hours.
Saturday, we were in heaven again. The six of us were camping in the beautiful Colorado mountains.
Now Sasha says she is having "too much fun and never wants to leave." YEAH!
This is what we signed up for! They laugh and giggle and are delighted with the littlest of things. Things we grew bored with long ago. I've never seen children consume so many fresh fruits and vegetables. Our sour cherries don't make it into the house! They wait well and they play well without much supervision. While we have had to do some "time outs" with Nastia, we are so glad she has enough self-esteem to make her wises known.
One bit of advice, I recommend for anyone who is considering hosting or adopting.
GET YOURSELF AN INTERPRETER. Our friend Tanya has been a life-saver! Beg, hire, enslave, but get an interpreter!
So the reason why I haven't been keeping you updated, Gentle Readers, is because one of our dear children became sick just less than 24 hours after arriving. We all know and perhaps have first hand experience of having stomach flu after you arrive to a foreign country? Not so pleasant , eh? Okay, say you are a 10 year old girl without prior travel experience and the person who is taking care of you is NOT a medical professional, and they don't speak your language except to say, "Are you hurt?" or "Are you nauseas?" or "Do you have diarrhea?" and you cant keep anything down. There you have it, Gentle Readers. That is Sasha for the first 6 days of American Experience.
I thought I was in hell and I'm positive Sasha thought the same 'cause said she wanted to go home.
We took her to the ER on Sunday morn because she was so badly dehydrated. Yes, they did the IV thing. It hurt the whole 2 hours. We took her home with meds. No improvement. I was so frustrated and helpless. After we got home, I wanted her to see a doc who could check her lab results, but our system is . . . we pre-empt this post to protect the writer from sinning in word.
You get the idea.
A benevolent friend who is a nurse-practitioner returned home from vacation just in time to intercept another visit to the ER. He was able to help us use the $22 a pill meds to Sasha's best advantage and prescribe more to get her happy and well again in less than 48 hours.
Saturday, we were in heaven again. The six of us were camping in the beautiful Colorado mountains.
Now Sasha says she is having "too much fun and never wants to leave." YEAH!
This is what we signed up for! They laugh and giggle and are delighted with the littlest of things. Things we grew bored with long ago. I've never seen children consume so many fresh fruits and vegetables. Our sour cherries don't make it into the house! They wait well and they play well without much supervision. While we have had to do some "time outs" with Nastia, we are so glad she has enough self-esteem to make her wises known.
One bit of advice, I recommend for anyone who is considering hosting or adopting.
GET YOURSELF AN INTERPRETER. Our friend Tanya has been a life-saver! Beg, hire, enslave, but get an interpreter!
Friday, June 20, 2008
Valuable Gems Arrive!
After it was discovered that the original gems could not be secured, two other valuable (and just as appreciated) gems arrived by international jet under the watchful eye of trained escorts on Thursday. Giggles can be heard once again on Tanglewood Trail.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
But its a good noise
How loud can it get?! I live in one of those infernal neighborhoods that is never quiet. That is kind of a good thing because it means people are improving their houses right? Well, I think it is just that when they do have work done on their house, it is SO LOUD, you can hear it up to 1/2 mile away. Therefore, if the conscientious folks in the next neighborhood are re-roofing, which in Colorado happens frequently, well, you get the idea. We have all heard the distant pounding of the roofers, yes? Okay, now add a saws-all to that. A saws-all. It is one of those contraptions that really does what it says. Mostly used in demolition. There is sort of a twisted humor in hearing the house vibrating under the destruction of the saws-all, the pounding of hammers and/or nail-guns at the same time. They build even as they demolish. Do you see, Gentle Readers, how quickly they are finishing the house? The outside will be ready to paint by the weekend! We are the designated painters thereof, however I think we will be busy with girls. Hum? What's that? No, I'm not going to tell you now. I'm going to build suspense.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Progress!
Well, the girls were supposed to come yesterday but no visas yet. I'm trying to keep my mind off of it by tidying the house, putting things away and cleaning that which could use some attention (understatement).
Digging out some adoption books that have helpful info on what to expect from kids who have spent time in an orphanage. I've read the books before but since that is not the American Way, I didn't read that part. So far, what I'm noticing is over-structure. For example, the kids don't have the luxury of choosing when to eat but must follow the schedule set by the orphanage. This teaches them to deny their own physical cues. They may sit down to a meal and consume as much as they can as quickly as they can because that is all they are going to get till the next time they sit for a meal (breakfast and dinner). Will watch the girls carefully. Constant hunger is a real concern and to have food so available will be overwhelming to them. Contrary to impulse, what an American parent must do (who has almost unlimited access to stupidly large quantities of chow even in their own humble abodes) is provide the kids with baggies of healthy munchies the kids can carry around with them 24/7.
Also keeping my mind occupied is the resuming of construction! The last couple of weeks the builders have put their bums in high gear and are making up for lost time. I think they are a week ahead of schedule (the new one not the old one, if it were the old one they would be done by now!) Ahem. The new hopeful finish date is July 3.
The lower half of the family room walls, the floor of same room, the frame and floor of the kitchen nook are almost done. Destruction today. Yesterday it was 95*F and today as in the classic Colorado style, it is topping 55*F. On this day, they will be removing the east wall of the upstairs bedrooms and the sliding glass door, allowing even more of said Colorado weather and accompanying fauna in the form of bugs almost free access to our living space. Okay, there will be a sheet of plastic between but you get the idea.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Empty rooms that echo as I climb the stairs (Don McLean)
Suddenly, I am awake.
I am in my sleeping bag, in my camper. I hear the wind slightly moving the pine branches outside. The people in the campsite next to us are moving around. Mountain jays are screeching. A brook at the edge of the campsite is burbling. Now I hear the slow steady breathing of my wife. And in the bed at the other end of the camper, I hear two girls, also breathing slowly. They are still asleep. They should be. Yesterday, we hiked around a lake. They ran all the time. They looked at everything that moved. They wanted to play in the water, but they don't have swim suits yet, and besides, the water is freezing. They picked up rocks and pine cones and put them in their pockets. The hike took several hours. For dinner we cooked hot dogs over a camp fire. The girls had great fun cooking marshmallows and making s'mores. A rare nighttime thunderstorm woke them up, so they had too little sleep. But now, I can hear them, gently snoring.
After we drive back down the mountains, we take the girls to the zoo. They are amazed at the animals. They run from area to area. They love the baby animal nursery. They look with big eyes at the small animals. We try to talk, broken English, broken Russian, minimal Ukrainian.
That evening, I sit on the couch in front of the TV, one girl on each side. They are already comfortable enough that they lean against me as we watch some cartoons on DVD. The language goes by too fast for them to catch, but they laugh anyway at the slapstick humor.
Then I get to put them to bed. For now, bed is a sleeping bag on the floor of the front room, inside a nylon tent. We speak English slowly, trying to communicate. It's difficult, but facial expressions help a lot. They laugh so easily. After I pray with them and leave, I can hear them whispering to each other. I have no idea what they are saying, but they sound happy.
And then I really do wake up. There are no girls. Not yet. Soon, maybe.
Rolan
I am in my sleeping bag, in my camper. I hear the wind slightly moving the pine branches outside. The people in the campsite next to us are moving around. Mountain jays are screeching. A brook at the edge of the campsite is burbling. Now I hear the slow steady breathing of my wife. And in the bed at the other end of the camper, I hear two girls, also breathing slowly. They are still asleep. They should be. Yesterday, we hiked around a lake. They ran all the time. They looked at everything that moved. They wanted to play in the water, but they don't have swim suits yet, and besides, the water is freezing. They picked up rocks and pine cones and put them in their pockets. The hike took several hours. For dinner we cooked hot dogs over a camp fire. The girls had great fun cooking marshmallows and making s'mores. A rare nighttime thunderstorm woke them up, so they had too little sleep. But now, I can hear them, gently snoring.
After we drive back down the mountains, we take the girls to the zoo. They are amazed at the animals. They run from area to area. They love the baby animal nursery. They look with big eyes at the small animals. We try to talk, broken English, broken Russian, minimal Ukrainian.
That evening, I sit on the couch in front of the TV, one girl on each side. They are already comfortable enough that they lean against me as we watch some cartoons on DVD. The language goes by too fast for them to catch, but they laugh anyway at the slapstick humor.
Then I get to put them to bed. For now, bed is a sleeping bag on the floor of the front room, inside a nylon tent. We speak English slowly, trying to communicate. It's difficult, but facial expressions help a lot. They laugh so easily. After I pray with them and leave, I can hear them whispering to each other. I have no idea what they are saying, but they sound happy.
And then I really do wake up. There are no girls. Not yet. Soon, maybe.
Rolan
Monday, June 2, 2008
Life is a Lesson in Patience
The good news is work has begun again on our home. More digging with the backhoe. Rain for a day or so that made me wonder if we really were going to have a moat (what sort of fish go well in a Colorado moat?), some concrete poured by some very strong guys with wheelbarrows. Taller forms put up and inspections by two other guys. Temporary loss of phone connection.
The garden is beautiful today. May subject you to a little gardener's brag.
It being springtime and everything so beautiful is getting me through the frustration of the girls not getting their visas yet. That means all 15-17 kids who are hoping to come to America for the summer are having to wait. Trying to keep busy to keep my mind off of it. The best I can do is continue to learn my 100 words in Russian and tend the garden.
You would think that if I had the patience to plant a garden, I would have the patience to wait for two sweet kids to come!
The garden is beautiful today. May subject you to a little gardener's brag.
It being springtime and everything so beautiful is getting me through the frustration of the girls not getting their visas yet. That means all 15-17 kids who are hoping to come to America for the summer are having to wait. Trying to keep busy to keep my mind off of it. The best I can do is continue to learn my 100 words in Russian and tend the garden.
You would think that if I had the patience to plant a garden, I would have the patience to wait for two sweet kids to come!
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Ukrainian Gems on Loan for the Summer
I've been sitting at this keyboard for a while, wondering how to write about this wonderful opportunity we have been given for the summer.
There is an orphanage in Ukraine that has been given the privilege of allowing adoptable orphans to come to America and visit whoever will have them. There are no guarantees of adoption. They have to go home at the end of summer. We have known of people who have successfully adopted children they have hosted and people who were given lame excuses by the government and refused to allow the Americans to adopt the kids they have hosted. So what is the advantage for us? Nothing other than allowing two sisters who have no family the opportunity to be loved for ten short weeks. Yes, we will pray like the dickens that the Lord will bless us but if not, that's okay too. The experience will be remembered for the rest of our lives.
Tanya (age 13) and her sister Liza (age 8) will be arriving at DIA on Tuesday, June 10. Time as yet, unknown.
Learning Russian like crazy.
Expect photos of wildly happy people.
Da svidaniya
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
A Brief Diversion of Joy
Ladies and Gentlemen we interrupt absolutely nothing happening at the house to celebrate the momentous event of JOSH'S GRADUATION! (Cue great crowds cheering)
Our dear young man has freed himself and others from the financial burden of greater education to emerge with A MASTERS OF SECONDARY EDUCATION. That's right, hide your teens, ladies and gentlemen, this twisted product of the Christofferson household will be available to teach science in a high school near you starting this fall. Which high school, we are as yet unsure but hey, a little suspense is what good movies are made of, right?
Our dear young man has freed himself and others from the financial burden of greater education to emerge with A MASTERS OF SECONDARY EDUCATION. That's right, hide your teens, ladies and gentlemen, this twisted product of the Christofferson household will be available to teach science in a high school near you starting this fall. Which high school, we are as yet unsure but hey, a little suspense is what good movies are made of, right?
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
The Dirt on the Dirt
So when your house has had the side taken off, and a piece of plastic is all that separates you from the great outdoors, elements, and curious raccoons, the Soil Guy Cometh.
It's a bit like a visit to the doctor. There you sit and wait for the cold probing instruments while you are wearing nothing but a modified sheet.
This fellow doesn't work for the construction company but for the county regulations and zoning or something. He comes and takes a tablespoon of dirt or so and checks it in his laboratory to make sure it isn't ALIVE (bwaa haa haa haa). Well, really what he is checking for is called "expansive soil." Around these here parts, it has been said that massive cracks may appear in parts of your house indiscriminately due to rebellious clods of dirt. So in order to prevent damage from said dirt, they come out and see if that is indeed what you have so that when they pour concrete (which doesn't move very well) they can put in costly "precautions" (don't ask, I don't know). He came Friday but wasn't happy with his fair share. He wanted some more. So he came out yesterday and had the Backhoe Guy dig a 4' deeper hole. It will take him 2 whole days to test so all is at a stand still till tomorrow.
They don't think we have the bad dirt because there would already be bad cracks in the concrete we already have. But it would be too easy just to look at that, wouldn't it?
It's a bit like a visit to the doctor. There you sit and wait for the cold probing instruments while you are wearing nothing but a modified sheet.
This fellow doesn't work for the construction company but for the county regulations and zoning or something. He comes and takes a tablespoon of dirt or so and checks it in his laboratory to make sure it isn't ALIVE (bwaa haa haa haa). Well, really what he is checking for is called "expansive soil." Around these here parts, it has been said that massive cracks may appear in parts of your house indiscriminately due to rebellious clods of dirt. So in order to prevent damage from said dirt, they come out and see if that is indeed what you have so that when they pour concrete (which doesn't move very well) they can put in costly "precautions" (don't ask, I don't know). He came Friday but wasn't happy with his fair share. He wanted some more. So he came out yesterday and had the Backhoe Guy dig a 4' deeper hole. It will take him 2 whole days to test so all is at a stand still till tomorrow.
They don't think we have the bad dirt because there would already be bad cracks in the concrete we already have. But it would be too easy just to look at that, wouldn't it?
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Day 4 It snowed and they came and got the cement cut. Very loud but done in 90 min.
They couldn't finish digging because of the wet dirt.
Day 5 Demo Guy's big dump truck full of cement from our house.
Our new moat! I think it's about 4' deep
AND . . . my 7 foot dirt pile! Okay, you were right. It is A LOT OF DIRT! I shall spend the rest of the summer moving it to the far reaches of my meager 1/2 acre. You want some?
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Let The Mayhem Begin!
I heard a low growl from Scilla as two jeaned legs walked into the backyard.
No doubt her kitty senses were tingling with the knowledge that she would spend the next six weeks under my bed.
Yes, its true Dear Readers, even as I write there is a man I met only yesterday pounding on some unsuspecting wall in my very family room! There is a backhoe parked where my trailer used to be and a large dumpster bearing the name of the construction company casting a large shadow on my leafing spirea. (I've been looking forward to that dumpster to rid our garage of some clutter too big for the trash can.)
My wonderful and magical husband managed to gently guide the internet and TV cable in through the dining room window so I can keep you posted and watch 'Samantha Who.' Though probably not at the same time.
I have taken pics of the progress but you will have to wait until tomorrow 'cause I have to ask Ro about the right plug into the computer case. Just use your imagination while looking at the lower level of the house shown in the photo below. Now, there is a big hole where the bottom wall used to be. Tomorrow (at 7am I am told), they will turn the key on that backhoe parked where my trailer used to be and make their way toward the area just outside that big hole in the house to make a bigger one. No doubt we will be awakened to the "beep . . . beep . . . beep" of the great yellow machine backing up and delivering towering mounds of dirt to an obscure corner of my yard. I'm told there will be quite a lot. Okay, but it's MY dirt. Good for planting stuff in. Eventually. Somewhere in my yard. I don't know where yet. Some time tomorrow afternoon they will get out their cement saw and start cutting away at the, well, cement and make a lot of dust and noise and there will be water everywhere. Poor Scilla. I think I will join her under the bed.
I may not write every day but I will try and share some photos if there is something to see. I hear they don't do much if it snows . . .
On a slightly different note, we have decided to host those little, Ukrainian, available-for-adoption-girls, for the summer. Waiting for photos and ages and background and stuff. Yes, we could get attached. Probably will in fact. We will have fun doing it. Not only that but it beats moving dirt all summer.
No doubt her kitty senses were tingling with the knowledge that she would spend the next six weeks under my bed.
Yes, its true Dear Readers, even as I write there is a man I met only yesterday pounding on some unsuspecting wall in my very family room! There is a backhoe parked where my trailer used to be and a large dumpster bearing the name of the construction company casting a large shadow on my leafing spirea. (I've been looking forward to that dumpster to rid our garage of some clutter too big for the trash can.)
My wonderful and magical husband managed to gently guide the internet and TV cable in through the dining room window so I can keep you posted and watch 'Samantha Who.' Though probably not at the same time.
I have taken pics of the progress but you will have to wait until tomorrow 'cause I have to ask Ro about the right plug into the computer case. Just use your imagination while looking at the lower level of the house shown in the photo below. Now, there is a big hole where the bottom wall used to be. Tomorrow (at 7am I am told), they will turn the key on that backhoe parked where my trailer used to be and make their way toward the area just outside that big hole in the house to make a bigger one. No doubt we will be awakened to the "beep . . . beep . . . beep" of the great yellow machine backing up and delivering towering mounds of dirt to an obscure corner of my yard. I'm told there will be quite a lot. Okay, but it's MY dirt. Good for planting stuff in. Eventually. Somewhere in my yard. I don't know where yet. Some time tomorrow afternoon they will get out their cement saw and start cutting away at the, well, cement and make a lot of dust and noise and there will be water everywhere. Poor Scilla. I think I will join her under the bed.
I may not write every day but I will try and share some photos if there is something to see. I hear they don't do much if it snows . . .
On a slightly different note, we have decided to host those little, Ukrainian, available-for-adoption-girls, for the summer. Waiting for photos and ages and background and stuff. Yes, we could get attached. Probably will in fact. We will have fun doing it. Not only that but it beats moving dirt all summer.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Too Quiet
A mixed blessing really. On one hand I want action! Someone dig in my yard with a back hoe or call me and tell me to take my papers to the immigration service in downtown Denver or something!
On the other hand, I want everyone to leave me alone so I can just work in my garden. Quietly dig weeds, divide perennials, spread mulch, plant annuals. Just let the lovely spring sunshine warm my air deprived skin. Smell the blossoms of flowering fruit trees and early bulbs. Meditate on life, the universe and everything. Doesn't that sound peaceful?
Some Ukrainian adoption friends e-mailed to say for $2500 each, we can have Ukrainian orphan kids come and stay the summer with us. Well . . . much thought. No guarantee we would be able to adopt the kids that spend the entire 10 weeks of summer with us. Hmmmm. House won't be ready when they arrive June 1. "Its okay girls, we usually have an outside wall in this room that will someday be your bedroom." Hmmm. Can we borrow for a couple of weeks someone else's Ukrainian orphans? Yes. Maybe that sounds like a better option. Thinking about it some more.
They still want to start digging on Monday. So glad that hasn't changed!
Friday, April 11, 2008
Delays Delays
The lead construction worker knocked on my door last Wednesday and said meekly that the building permits aren't approved yet. (Thanks for the heads up Rich!) He said we could either begin demo now in hopes that the permit will come through when they are ready to put humpty together again (two weeks) or we could wait until the permits to come through to begin.
Well, that is a no brainer!
I can see Ro and I sitting the freezing house while the last of the winter snow storms reminds us that it will be impossible to heat a home that has a whole side missing! My cats would file for a divorce and I would be temped to build a campfire grabbing anything and everything that burns just to keep my ever freezing body warm.
No thank you kindly, Sir. I think I will sit in my cozy home with its walls intact to wait for Boulder County to finish pouring over the fine print . . .
On the adoption front, I am waiting for our local agent to get back from a week long training to finish our papers so we can take them to the US Gov.
Prayer request:
Right now the Ukraine government only allows so many of its orphans to be adopted out of country a year. Its not a huge number. I'll have to get that for you. Something like 5,000 families mostly from US, Italy and Spain. The problem is, that is only 10,000 kids at most per year. There are 100,000 in orphanages and 100,000 on the streets. My heart breaks for the kids who long to be adopted (almost all) languishing in these orphanages when there are so many families who have to wait because there are more than 5,000 families a year that wish to adopt them.
Pray that the gov would throw out the limits. Ro and I can wait. The children can't.
Well, that is a no brainer!
I can see Ro and I sitting the freezing house while the last of the winter snow storms reminds us that it will be impossible to heat a home that has a whole side missing! My cats would file for a divorce and I would be temped to build a campfire grabbing anything and everything that burns just to keep my ever freezing body warm.
No thank you kindly, Sir. I think I will sit in my cozy home with its walls intact to wait for Boulder County to finish pouring over the fine print . . .
On the adoption front, I am waiting for our local agent to get back from a week long training to finish our papers so we can take them to the US Gov.
Prayer request:
Right now the Ukraine government only allows so many of its orphans to be adopted out of country a year. Its not a huge number. I'll have to get that for you. Something like 5,000 families mostly from US, Italy and Spain. The problem is, that is only 10,000 kids at most per year. There are 100,000 in orphanages and 100,000 on the streets. My heart breaks for the kids who long to be adopted (almost all) languishing in these orphanages when there are so many families who have to wait because there are more than 5,000 families a year that wish to adopt them.
Pray that the gov would throw out the limits. Ro and I can wait. The children can't.
Friday, April 4, 2008
A Crack at the Almighty Process
There is so much I know I will leave something out but here goes.
Even though we have to satisfy the local adoption agency, another local agency (I"ll explain later), the US government, Colorado State government and the Ukrainian government, what we need to bear in mind is that when it comes down to it, we must make Ukraine happy. The seemingly senseless gathering of reams of paper is ultimately for the reading pleasure of the Ukrainian SDA (State Department of Adoption). So the king of all our paperwork is THE ALMIGHTY DOSSIER, hereafter to be referred to as TAD. This may explain the following craziness a little. They live far away and have some pretty strange ideas about us Americans.
TAD wants:
A certified copy of the deed to your house
A notarized copy of your passports
2 certified copies of your marriage certificates (?!)
A notarized copy of certificate of health from your doc with a copy of her doc license
A letter (notarized, of course) from Rolan's employer stating that he is truly working there for
cashable greenback and will continue to do so.
Copies of your homestudy done by an agency
A certified photo of your homestudy worker's license
Some sort of Adoption release form that I haven't seen yet
I think there is also a power of attorney form for the translator
This is all gathered by Ro and I. Be sure to use notaries whose terms don't expire within the next couple of years 'cause it may take that long to actually get the kids. Oh, and
GET TWO COPIES OF ALL OF THIS, because someone could drop one in the ocean or something. I guess it doesn't happen very often. But we were also told that since we are looking for siblings, they may be in different regions and you need to be able to send another TAD to another region (you bring it with you when you go).
The Local adoption agency wants:
Background inquiries (permission to talk to all your past therapists)
Fingerprints done by a gov person (local sheriff will do) for the purpose of sending it in for a
crime check to FBI and CBI. Really, all they had to do was ask my mother!
A copy of last year's1040
A different medical paper filled out by my doc
A brief autobiography from Rolan and I
Proof that our medical ins would cover the children sent in by the ins company
And 5 or 6 papers that waiving any liability on their part, agreeing we could get some sick
kids, etc.
An agreement that we would receive or have received 24 hours of education on children and
their adoptive needs.
A copy of Boulder County SS homestudy from our old days as fost/adopt folk
Letters of reference from three people we know and have fooled into thinking we will be good at
this.
The Immigration Service (US CIS) wants:
A copy of our passports
A copy of our completed homestudy from the local agency
Copy of our Marriage certificate (again)
Their form filled out
Another wad of money
A set of fingerprints that you have to do and pay for right there. And NO they won't use
someone elses!
Are you still with me? Bless you my child.
As of today, the local agency is almost done gathering all their papers. They have a long homestudy and Ukraine only wants 8 pages of that so we have to find a way to shorten it. Our Ukraine agency will help us with that. Then local agency will send the whole blessed packet to another local agency to make sure Colorado Department of Human Services will accept it. I guess it's an integrity thing. That only takes a couple of days. Then we take the approved packet to the CIS and they get out their big stamps and put their mark on it but it takes about 8 weeks.
So then . . we take all that stuff and the papers we completed for TAD to the Colorado State Offices of the Boss of all the Notaries and they check to make sure all the notaries we used are really certified notaries! Honest! I'm not kidding! I think this is called "Apostilles." I heard someone say "Apostles" but I don't think there is anything the least bit biblical about it and not only that but it is a French word.
We fax copies of all to our Ukraine agency person so she can check to make sure that ze papers are in order.....
THEN..... we get to send one copy of TAD to Ukraine. . .
where it gets translated by someone the agency hired and they take it to the SDA in Kiev and it gets an appointment to be reviewed. Four to 9 months later they say "yes" or "no" and give us an appointment date to come over and look at kids. TA DA!
I'll save the Ukraine end of things till we get closer to that. I fear, Gentle Reader that you will either never read this blog again or you have fallen asleep.
Out to move more plants. Its a great day.
eileen
Even though we have to satisfy the local adoption agency, another local agency (I"ll explain later), the US government, Colorado State government and the Ukrainian government, what we need to bear in mind is that when it comes down to it, we must make Ukraine happy. The seemingly senseless gathering of reams of paper is ultimately for the reading pleasure of the Ukrainian SDA (State Department of Adoption). So the king of all our paperwork is THE ALMIGHTY DOSSIER, hereafter to be referred to as TAD. This may explain the following craziness a little. They live far away and have some pretty strange ideas about us Americans.
TAD wants:
A certified copy of the deed to your house
A notarized copy of your passports
2 certified copies of your marriage certificates (?!)
A notarized copy of certificate of health from your doc with a copy of her doc license
A letter (notarized, of course) from Rolan's employer stating that he is truly working there for
cashable greenback and will continue to do so.
Copies of your homestudy done by an agency
A certified photo of your homestudy worker's license
Some sort of Adoption release form that I haven't seen yet
I think there is also a power of attorney form for the translator
This is all gathered by Ro and I. Be sure to use notaries whose terms don't expire within the next couple of years 'cause it may take that long to actually get the kids. Oh, and
GET TWO COPIES OF ALL OF THIS, because someone could drop one in the ocean or something. I guess it doesn't happen very often. But we were also told that since we are looking for siblings, they may be in different regions and you need to be able to send another TAD to another region (you bring it with you when you go).
The Local adoption agency wants:
Background inquiries (permission to talk to all your past therapists)
Fingerprints done by a gov person (local sheriff will do) for the purpose of sending it in for a
crime check to FBI and CBI. Really, all they had to do was ask my mother!
A copy of last year's1040
A different medical paper filled out by my doc
A brief autobiography from Rolan and I
Proof that our medical ins would cover the children sent in by the ins company
And 5 or 6 papers that waiving any liability on their part, agreeing we could get some sick
kids, etc.
An agreement that we would receive or have received 24 hours of education on children and
their adoptive needs.
A copy of Boulder County SS homestudy from our old days as fost/adopt folk
Letters of reference from three people we know and have fooled into thinking we will be good at
this.
The Immigration Service (US CIS) wants:
A copy of our passports
A copy of our completed homestudy from the local agency
Copy of our Marriage certificate (again)
Their form filled out
Another wad of money
A set of fingerprints that you have to do and pay for right there. And NO they won't use
someone elses!
Are you still with me? Bless you my child.
As of today, the local agency is almost done gathering all their papers. They have a long homestudy and Ukraine only wants 8 pages of that so we have to find a way to shorten it. Our Ukraine agency will help us with that. Then local agency will send the whole blessed packet to another local agency to make sure Colorado Department of Human Services will accept it. I guess it's an integrity thing. That only takes a couple of days. Then we take the approved packet to the CIS and they get out their big stamps and put their mark on it but it takes about 8 weeks.
So then . . we take all that stuff and the papers we completed for TAD to the Colorado State Offices of the Boss of all the Notaries and they check to make sure all the notaries we used are really certified notaries! Honest! I'm not kidding! I think this is called "Apostilles." I heard someone say "Apostles" but I don't think there is anything the least bit biblical about it and not only that but it is a French word.
We fax copies of all to our Ukraine agency person so she can check to make sure that ze papers are in order.....
THEN..... we get to send one copy of TAD to Ukraine. . .
where it gets translated by someone the agency hired and they take it to the SDA in Kiev and it gets an appointment to be reviewed. Four to 9 months later they say "yes" or "no" and give us an appointment date to come over and look at kids. TA DA!
I'll save the Ukraine end of things till we get closer to that. I fear, Gentle Reader that you will either never read this blog again or you have fallen asleep.
Out to move more plants. Its a great day.
eileen
Monday, March 31, 2008
A Little More Time
The construction guys gave us a new date. They aren't ready. Permits or some such. The new start date is April 14th. Don't tell them we are secretly very happy because we aren't ready either! Digging out a garden and moving the contents of three rooms is, well, time consuming.
That gives me a chance to tell you about the riveting, page turning, process of adopting overseas. Lucky you!
Yes, I am being sarcastic. If you give up and skip this post and any other that refer to "the process," I won't be offended. I will try and not go into too much detail. It is interesting to me because (duh) I'm deeply involved . . .
Anyway, it begins in interviewing and carefully researching adoption agencies. It is different in different states. The state of Colorado insists that you use an in-state agency for your homestudy and background checks because they provide someone to come and visit after the children come. We already filled out mule-choking amounts of paperwork, including a homestudy, with Boulder County Social Services but for some reason (that no one seems to be able to explain), we have to do it again. Sigh, okay.
The painful part for this frugal woman is that it is so darn expensive. I shopped around. It didn't help. I groused about it for several weeks before I actually went with the recommended agency. To make matters worse, last month the local newspaper reported there was a Boulder agency that bilked people out of bunches of money without producing the desired children. If you do this, please do your homework and look for references. Our local agency is Adoption Alliance.
So along with the local agency, you need an agency who can connect you with people overseas, check your paperwork, fix you up with a translator, doc or many other services depending on the country and other requirements. This agency wants dough too but the amounts can vary widely. The person we have chosen has a great track record and hasn't asked for our firstborn in exchange so we have gone with her.
So there is the cast. Next time let me fill you in on the actual process. (You won't believe it.)
That gives me a chance to tell you about the riveting, page turning, process of adopting overseas. Lucky you!
Yes, I am being sarcastic. If you give up and skip this post and any other that refer to "the process," I won't be offended. I will try and not go into too much detail. It is interesting to me because (duh) I'm deeply involved . . .
Anyway, it begins in interviewing and carefully researching adoption agencies. It is different in different states. The state of Colorado insists that you use an in-state agency for your homestudy and background checks because they provide someone to come and visit after the children come. We already filled out mule-choking amounts of paperwork, including a homestudy, with Boulder County Social Services but for some reason (that no one seems to be able to explain), we have to do it again. Sigh, okay.
The painful part for this frugal woman is that it is so darn expensive. I shopped around. It didn't help. I groused about it for several weeks before I actually went with the recommended agency. To make matters worse, last month the local newspaper reported there was a Boulder agency that bilked people out of bunches of money without producing the desired children. If you do this, please do your homework and look for references. Our local agency is Adoption Alliance.
So along with the local agency, you need an agency who can connect you with people overseas, check your paperwork, fix you up with a translator, doc or many other services depending on the country and other requirements. This agency wants dough too but the amounts can vary widely. The person we have chosen has a great track record and hasn't asked for our firstborn in exchange so we have gone with her.
So there is the cast. Next time let me fill you in on the actual process. (You won't believe it.)
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Ready, Set. . . Remodel!
Hello Everyone!
Last Friday we got word that they could start digging here at the ol' homestead on MONDAY! That means they want 3 rooms in the house cleaned out and I have to clear out the carefully, gently, lovingly planted garden outside the family room. I have 8 specially ordered dwarf evergreens, some of them planted some 10+ years ago. Some of them irreplaceable. (Ask me about my dwarf bristlecone pine). So it is quick but careful transplanting for the next few days.
Those girls won't be able to say I love my garden more than them!
Much to my dismay, a couple dozen giant white crocus stuck their bold white heads up to say, "Excuse me, but we are important too!" Yes, yes, thank you for blooming where you were planted, I will move you too. (Who else am I forgetting?! Where in the world did I put that alpine clematis?!)
I have taken before pictures for your enjoyment but I think we will lose our TV cable and internet cable too for the duration. I will see if I still can send you updates from the front somehow. If not, then you will get the before and after photos back to back, like one of those magazine articles and write "before" under one photo and "after" under the other (like you won't be able to tell on your own . . )
The great and wonderful surprise is that they are saying it will only take 6 weeks!
"Of course, that is how long it should take," I hear you say. But you and I both know 4 months is more of what we were expecting. Yes, yes, they are never done when they say. Yes, yes, it will more likely be 8 weeks but this is great news for the gardener who would like to put some plants back around the new room rather than find a permanent home because 4 months is way too long to be out of the ground, especially over the brutal summer months. I will also be able to paint walls, varnish, put the rooms back together, shop for missing furniture pieces, all when the weather is in my favor. Whew.
Anyway, we are still waiting on the agency here to finish our paperwork. I think too we are waiting on the FBI clearance. I guess they don't want bank robbers raising kids. Go figure.
So, very dear friends and relatives, we are scrambling. Will try to write again soon.
Last Friday we got word that they could start digging here at the ol' homestead on MONDAY! That means they want 3 rooms in the house cleaned out and I have to clear out the carefully, gently, lovingly planted garden outside the family room. I have 8 specially ordered dwarf evergreens, some of them planted some 10+ years ago. Some of them irreplaceable. (Ask me about my dwarf bristlecone pine). So it is quick but careful transplanting for the next few days.
Those girls won't be able to say I love my garden more than them!
Much to my dismay, a couple dozen giant white crocus stuck their bold white heads up to say, "Excuse me, but we are important too!" Yes, yes, thank you for blooming where you were planted, I will move you too. (Who else am I forgetting?! Where in the world did I put that alpine clematis?!)
I have taken before pictures for your enjoyment but I think we will lose our TV cable and internet cable too for the duration. I will see if I still can send you updates from the front somehow. If not, then you will get the before and after photos back to back, like one of those magazine articles and write "before" under one photo and "after" under the other (like you won't be able to tell on your own . . )
The great and wonderful surprise is that they are saying it will only take 6 weeks!
"Of course, that is how long it should take," I hear you say. But you and I both know 4 months is more of what we were expecting. Yes, yes, they are never done when they say. Yes, yes, it will more likely be 8 weeks but this is great news for the gardener who would like to put some plants back around the new room rather than find a permanent home because 4 months is way too long to be out of the ground, especially over the brutal summer months. I will also be able to paint walls, varnish, put the rooms back together, shop for missing furniture pieces, all when the weather is in my favor. Whew.
Anyway, we are still waiting on the agency here to finish our paperwork. I think too we are waiting on the FBI clearance. I guess they don't want bank robbers raising kids. Go figure.
So, very dear friends and relatives, we are scrambling. Will try to write again soon.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
My New Best Friend Ben What's-His-Face
About 15 years ago we got a great deal on our then out-of-date house in a super neighborhood. We have spent time and some of Rolan's hard earned dough to update and improve said home, making it comfortable for the four of us.
Our neighbors are quiet folk and keep to themselves for the most part. Until last Christmas. One of the well improved homes down the street had a Christmas party (well, not the home but the people inside it. But I bet you knew that.) Anyway, it is one of those homes that sort of looks like this one in the way of floor plans but they had added a beautiful solarium off of the dining room. OH MY. I tucked away the ideas of how that would look on my house and thought nothing more about it until the three (instead of two) girls plan presented itself.
Its not that we wouldn't fit. Its just that we would fit better with a little more room. The eating area off the kitchen has always been too tight with just four of us and the family room is just plain silly with people and tree stuffed in there at Christmas... not to mention how much easier it would be if we bumped out the bedrooms too. We could get away with not having bunk beds!
If you are following my thinking here, you can see I'm talking about some serious renovation. How much could it be? There is no question that to make the bedrooms and family room bigger we would have to excavate. Yeah, the backhoe thing. I came up with some numbers by doing careful internet research. I invited a poor fellow to look and tell me what he thought. In the end it was going to be slightly more expensive than I thought. (I bet you knew that too!) I talked to an other construction company and asked them if they could do it for the price I wanted (more reasonable on my part but do-able).
Waiting for the final plans now. In the mean time, the home loan rates are dropping and I'm wiping the perspiration from my brow. I think we can afford this! We got the construction company at a good time and hopefully the work will be done before fall. Hey, who is laughing?! It could be embarrassing to bring the girls home to a bedroom that is missing the outside wall! I could always put them in the camper...
Our neighbors are quiet folk and keep to themselves for the most part. Until last Christmas. One of the well improved homes down the street had a Christmas party (well, not the home but the people inside it. But I bet you knew that.) Anyway, it is one of those homes that sort of looks like this one in the way of floor plans but they had added a beautiful solarium off of the dining room. OH MY. I tucked away the ideas of how that would look on my house and thought nothing more about it until the three (instead of two) girls plan presented itself.
Its not that we wouldn't fit. Its just that we would fit better with a little more room. The eating area off the kitchen has always been too tight with just four of us and the family room is just plain silly with people and tree stuffed in there at Christmas... not to mention how much easier it would be if we bumped out the bedrooms too. We could get away with not having bunk beds!
If you are following my thinking here, you can see I'm talking about some serious renovation. How much could it be? There is no question that to make the bedrooms and family room bigger we would have to excavate. Yeah, the backhoe thing. I came up with some numbers by doing careful internet research. I invited a poor fellow to look and tell me what he thought. In the end it was going to be slightly more expensive than I thought. (I bet you knew that too!) I talked to an other construction company and asked them if they could do it for the price I wanted (more reasonable on my part but do-able).
Waiting for the final plans now. In the mean time, the home loan rates are dropping and I'm wiping the perspiration from my brow. I think we can afford this! We got the construction company at a good time and hopefully the work will be done before fall. Hey, who is laughing?! It could be embarrassing to bring the girls home to a bedroom that is missing the outside wall! I could always put them in the camper...
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Just Move Already
As convincing as all those circumstances seemed to be, I was looking for that little extra. The internal green light. Wasn't coming. Wasn't getting a red light either. The other indicators seemed to say, "proceed with caution." What we were doing now didn't seem to be getting us any closer to filling our house. We needed to do .... something! Looked into several agencies. What if we continued domestic only with an agency? Some agencies allow you to look domestically and then switch to international if you don't find a match with only a nominal cost difference. But in the end discovered I wasn't fond of some of the domestic policies. I kept changing my mind. In the end the heart won out. I swallowed my fear of writing big checks and took the dive.
Those Stats
100,000 children in Ukraine are in orphanages. Another 130,000 on the streets. Oh, you know, the regular stuff. Alcoholism, illness, poverty, death, imprisonment. If you can't afford to feed your kids its okay to leave them somewhere. There are 100,000 in the US up for adoption. Ukraine is roughly the size of Texas. The kids are kicked out of the orphanages at 16 or 17 with a little something to get them through the first few months on their own. 10% commit suicide by their 18th birthday, 70% of boys turn to a life of crime, 60% of girls become prostitutes, only 27% find work. I you want to see pictures, get into You Tube and find the video Orphans of Ukraine. Bring a box of tissues.
Have you ever tried to convince someone of something and done too good of a job? My friend Pat once said that you have to tell some one something seven times before they remember it. (I'm sure in my case it's 20 something but we won't go into that). Well, with Rolan it was three. I gave him the same stats as you see above. He heard it again in church, and then again at the Christmas gathering for the kids that came to the US in December. His eyes were opened. Wide.
He wants 6.
Okay, 4. "Honey, how about four?"
I thought about it all day. On that day, I think it was a Sunday, you could see me wandering around the house mumbling "four, huh...four." Every once in a while I'd look at Rolan and say, "four?"
After a full day I said, "Honey, I think my mothering skills drop dramatically after about three."
I think I can encourage, support, cajole three through college. Four, I think I could get through High School. Five, I could make sure would live to adulthood, but I wouldn't feel good about the job I'd done. How about three."
Three.
My friend Sarah says she can do it with three. So, see? It can be done.
Now, about the house . . .
Those Stats
100,000 children in Ukraine are in orphanages. Another 130,000 on the streets. Oh, you know, the regular stuff. Alcoholism, illness, poverty, death, imprisonment. If you can't afford to feed your kids its okay to leave them somewhere. There are 100,000 in the US up for adoption. Ukraine is roughly the size of Texas. The kids are kicked out of the orphanages at 16 or 17 with a little something to get them through the first few months on their own. 10% commit suicide by their 18th birthday, 70% of boys turn to a life of crime, 60% of girls become prostitutes, only 27% find work. I you want to see pictures, get into You Tube and find the video Orphans of Ukraine. Bring a box of tissues.
Have you ever tried to convince someone of something and done too good of a job? My friend Pat once said that you have to tell some one something seven times before they remember it. (I'm sure in my case it's 20 something but we won't go into that). Well, with Rolan it was three. I gave him the same stats as you see above. He heard it again in church, and then again at the Christmas gathering for the kids that came to the US in December. His eyes were opened. Wide.
He wants 6.
Okay, 4. "Honey, how about four?"
I thought about it all day. On that day, I think it was a Sunday, you could see me wandering around the house mumbling "four, huh...four." Every once in a while I'd look at Rolan and say, "four?"
After a full day I said, "Honey, I think my mothering skills drop dramatically after about three."
I think I can encourage, support, cajole three through college. Four, I think I could get through High School. Five, I could make sure would live to adulthood, but I wouldn't feel good about the job I'd done. How about three."
Three.
My friend Sarah says she can do it with three. So, see? It can be done.
Now, about the house . . .
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
"But Officer They Were Just So Cute!"
So one evening in early December we stood in the main terminal of Denver International Airport and watched as a couple of dozen Ukrainian boys and girls filed past us. Our little Ukrainian Orphan Fan Club greeted them with warm fleece scarves. As I placed a pink one around a short-haired girl I knew I was hooked. Why do they have to look so much like the orphans in the movies?! They are so small and yet they were glad to have this Great American Adventure. I was told they experience some malnourishment which creates growth stunting. The youngest girl was 8 years old but looked like 6. They were also as thin as matchsticks! All my mothering instincts kicked in. Must feed. Must hug. Must smother with kisses.
How could anyone resist the urge to just grab them up and take them home?! "Honest officer, they just followed me..!" Okay girl, get a hold of yourself. Deep breath.
I cried all day the next day.
Pray, pray, pray.
Rolan loved the kids but was he willing to let go of the promise we made to ourselves of just adopting American kids? The best way to a computer nerd's heart is through his sense of logic and compassion. I did my homework, I spend some more time with the kids, I showed Rolan some heartbreaking videos about the terrible orphan situation in the Ukraine. I gave him the stats. Those horrible, grim, hopeless stats. (more on that later)
We continued to make inquiries on American kids who need homes. No bites.
Frankly, I was tired of the American-rent-to-own-foster-to-adopt system. This stinks! How about we not deal with agencies asking about every cough drop we gave the kids or trying to find a caring competent doctor or clinic that will take Medicaid? Or how about we just completely fall in love with the kids that come home with us and not wonder if a relative is going to come out of the woodwork at the last minute?
More homework, more inquiries, more prayer.
How does one determine the will of God? Pray and ask direction, look at all the circumstances, ask wise Christian friends, check it out with scripture.
Well, we know what scripture says, "look after widows and orphans in their distress.." Check.
Already asked direction (prayed about it). Check.
Asked wise Christian friends. Big happy check.
Circumstances. Well, in regards to spending huge chunks of cash, we wouldn't even have considered it accept that last summer Rolan was laid off (with 6 months of severance pay) and then got a new job right away. Kinda came at a good time. And another circumstance that is interesting is that these kids are from the Ukraine and well, didn't Great Grandpa have a ministry in Odessa? Yes. And wasn't Grandma born there? Yes. And well, by cracky, didn't he have an ORPHANAGE there too?
Hello, earth to Eileen....
How could anyone resist the urge to just grab them up and take them home?! "Honest officer, they just followed me..!" Okay girl, get a hold of yourself. Deep breath.
I cried all day the next day.
Pray, pray, pray.
Rolan loved the kids but was he willing to let go of the promise we made to ourselves of just adopting American kids? The best way to a computer nerd's heart is through his sense of logic and compassion. I did my homework, I spend some more time with the kids, I showed Rolan some heartbreaking videos about the terrible orphan situation in the Ukraine. I gave him the stats. Those horrible, grim, hopeless stats. (more on that later)
We continued to make inquiries on American kids who need homes. No bites.
Frankly, I was tired of the American-rent-to-own-foster-to-adopt system. This stinks! How about we not deal with agencies asking about every cough drop we gave the kids or trying to find a caring competent doctor or clinic that will take Medicaid? Or how about we just completely fall in love with the kids that come home with us and not wonder if a relative is going to come out of the woodwork at the last minute?
More homework, more inquiries, more prayer.
How does one determine the will of God? Pray and ask direction, look at all the circumstances, ask wise Christian friends, check it out with scripture.
Well, we know what scripture says, "look after widows and orphans in their distress.." Check.
Already asked direction (prayed about it). Check.
Asked wise Christian friends. Big happy check.
Circumstances. Well, in regards to spending huge chunks of cash, we wouldn't even have considered it accept that last summer Rolan was laid off (with 6 months of severance pay) and then got a new job right away. Kinda came at a good time. And another circumstance that is interesting is that these kids are from the Ukraine and well, didn't Great Grandpa have a ministry in Odessa? Yes. And wasn't Grandma born there? Yes. And well, by cracky, didn't he have an ORPHANAGE there too?
Hello, earth to Eileen....
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Christoffersons? Whatcha doin'?
When we last joined our heroes they were bidding a sad (but slightly relieved) farewell to the two foster girls they had loved and cared for going on 9 months. The two girls had, against all projected odds, gone home to mom. This is a good thing, really, because kids really do need their families. However, adopting domestically had been more difficult then first thought. This was the second time the fost/ adopt children had left and it was getting old. Yet, this is were their heart was leading them and they would continue until Jesus or County Social Services stopped them.
But first, a well deserved break was in order. These last two were a handful! A little time to do some laundry, read a novel and repair damages.
Josh and Ransom (ages 25 and 21 respectively) liked having a little time to spend with their folks while in a somewhat sane state of mind (the folks). Camping with only the sound of the woods, playing questionable video games and wrangling dad for a little evening of MST3000 were difficult if not impossible with a 7 and 3 year old hanging around.
But life moves on and boredom sets in. When Ransom moved out, I started to wonder what I wanted to be when I grew up. I've always been committed to being a stay at home mom. Partly because my own mom couldn't, partly because I'm just not high energy enough to work and do a family at the same time (if I had the choice, which I do). I was wide open for celestial suggestion of the God variety.
Early in '05 I read an article on the terrible need for foster and adoptive families in America.
(Little did we know how awful it is to deal with government agencies with too much power. So many good-hearted adoptive parents have been heartbroken here in this very county by the agencies that say they are out for the good of the children. It can be just as frustrating to adopt children here as overseas. Cheaper yes, but not fun. )
The term "family-less child" tore my heart out. Still does. It didn't take long to convince Rolan, my soft-hearted, compassionate , gentle husband, that we were meant to adopt the girls he had always longer for. We called our local social services, jumped through all the hoops and feminized the two bedrooms that had been masculine since we had moved into the house years before. By May, we were ready. Finally, in December, we got a call. A sweet, quiet little girl needed a possible permanent home. Would we take her?
Little Lily moved out 6 months later to live with cousins.
Ukraine
So how did it come to this?
The last set of girls moved home in late August. By November we were ready to get moving again. Rolan had turned 50 and we knew our child rearing years were numbered.
I heard through a friend that there is a group in our area that hosts orphan Ukrainian kids for a couple of weeks to give them a good time and make people aware of their incredible needs. They needed people to help drive, feed, entertain and generally hob-nob with these kids. So what am I doing? (Nothing.) I volunteered to help pick them up from the airport and transport them to their host families. I knew all I needed to do was get Rolan in the general area and he would lob onto them like silly putty in the carpet. . .
But first, a well deserved break was in order. These last two were a handful! A little time to do some laundry, read a novel and repair damages.
Josh and Ransom (ages 25 and 21 respectively) liked having a little time to spend with their folks while in a somewhat sane state of mind (the folks). Camping with only the sound of the woods, playing questionable video games and wrangling dad for a little evening of MST3000 were difficult if not impossible with a 7 and 3 year old hanging around.
But life moves on and boredom sets in. When Ransom moved out, I started to wonder what I wanted to be when I grew up. I've always been committed to being a stay at home mom. Partly because my own mom couldn't, partly because I'm just not high energy enough to work and do a family at the same time (if I had the choice, which I do). I was wide open for celestial suggestion of the God variety.
Early in '05 I read an article on the terrible need for foster and adoptive families in America.
(Little did we know how awful it is to deal with government agencies with too much power. So many good-hearted adoptive parents have been heartbroken here in this very county by the agencies that say they are out for the good of the children. It can be just as frustrating to adopt children here as overseas. Cheaper yes, but not fun. )
The term "family-less child" tore my heart out. Still does. It didn't take long to convince Rolan, my soft-hearted, compassionate , gentle husband, that we were meant to adopt the girls he had always longer for. We called our local social services, jumped through all the hoops and feminized the two bedrooms that had been masculine since we had moved into the house years before. By May, we were ready. Finally, in December, we got a call. A sweet, quiet little girl needed a possible permanent home. Would we take her?
Little Lily moved out 6 months later to live with cousins.
Ukraine
So how did it come to this?
The last set of girls moved home in late August. By November we were ready to get moving again. Rolan had turned 50 and we knew our child rearing years were numbered.
I heard through a friend that there is a group in our area that hosts orphan Ukrainian kids for a couple of weeks to give them a good time and make people aware of their incredible needs. They needed people to help drive, feed, entertain and generally hob-nob with these kids. So what am I doing? (Nothing.) I volunteered to help pick them up from the airport and transport them to their host families. I knew all I needed to do was get Rolan in the general area and he would lob onto them like silly putty in the carpet. . .
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