just in case you were wondering...

Kiddo really does love ducks.

There are more.  I didn't show you his rubber duck collection.  For the past few months I have been sneaking ducks out of his room that I knew he wouldn't miss, and hiding them in a closet.  He found my hiding place last week, so all of the ducks are back.  Silly me for not getting them out of the house while I had the chance.

They finally vacated his bed last night, where they were threatening to take over.  "I can't grow any more, Mommy," Kiddo informed me.  "I don't have any room in my bed!"  "Finally!" I though to myself.  Now the prospect of making his bed isn't nearly as daunting.  But vacuuming/swiffing the floor just got much more complicated.

so much to think about

I have been thinking a lot about adoption these days.  Not that that is an entirely unfamiliar state of mind for me - there have been many times in the past few years when it has dominated my thoughts:  when we were deciding whether to pursue adoption at all, throughout the application process and the piles of paperwork, and every time we got a call letting us know that our profile was being viewed by a potential birth family.  And now...

Our home study expires this month.  Again.  And we find ourselves wrestling with whether to update our home study and continue to pursue a domestic adoption, or whether to close that door and go in a different direction.  We could either give up entirely and be content as a family of three, we could get involved in foster care, or we could go adopt internationally.  Over the past several months I have felt my heart being pulled more and more in the direction of international adoption.  Specifically towards adopting from Ethiopia.  It has been rather a wrestling match of sorts - sometimes I am ready to take the leap of faith and go for it, full speed, and other times I am nearly paralyzed by fear.

In our domestic adoption journey, we decided early on that we would not adopt transracially, so it has kind of turned our thinking upside-down as we consider adopting from another country and ethnicity.  The primary reason for our decision was the overwhelming "whiteness" of our community - would a child of color (is that a P.C. thing to say?) feel comfortable growing up surrounded by white faces?  The make-up of our community hasn't changed much, but we are becoming more aware of other adoptive families in our area, ethnic churches and restaurants we could visit, the more ethnically diverse places to shop, as well as playgroups and other resources that are available to adoptive families.  We would have to be intentional about surrounding ourselves with increased diversity, but it seems more attainable now than it did a few months ago.   

I also feel like God has been working in my heart to change how I see people, particularly African Americans.  I have had my own hesitations about raising a black child.  While I would say that I am not and have not been hatefully prejudiced against African Americans, I do know that I have harbored stereotypes and discomfort when I am around them.  They just seem so different from me with my blond hair, blue eyes, fair skin and insulated upbringing.  But over the past few months, as I have been considering the possibility of adopting a child from Ethiopia, I have also been seeing how much the black people I see are similar to me and the people with whom I am familiar.  I can focus on those similarities, instead of dwelling on the differences.  They are truly beautiful people, now that I have taken the time to really see them.  I would still be intimidated in many parts of Philadelphia or New York, where the tables are turned and I become one of the minority, but I am no longer seeing through the African Americans that I meet at Target or at the grocery store.  I am noticing them, engaging them in conversation, asking them about their kids.  I am dreaming about little African faces in my own home.  Even if we never adopt an African child, I won't regret this change I see in myself.  It's exciting.  While I know I still have room to grow, I love that I can now see black people more like God sees them.  It makes the world a far more beautiful and interesting place.

I don't know where this will all lead yet - I don't know yet if we really are sensing a call to adopt from Ethiopia, to take that leap of faith and build a family that looks a little different from most others, or if this is just a "phase" born from reading too many adoption blogs and watching too many "gotcha" videos.  Some days I am SO excited about the possibility, other days I wonder if we're crazy to even be considering it.  We have been praying for direction, for doors to be open or closed so that our path becomes clear.   It could be a very challenging road, but, if it is a road we are meant to travel, it could be a very rewarding one.  We still have lots of questions and concerns that we will need to mull over and wrestle with (Can we really do this?  Should we adopt a sibling group?  Would they have an identity crisis as they got older?  Would they resent being separated from their native culture?  How many rude comments would we have to put up with from prejudiced white people, from angry black people?  Could we build an adequate support network?  What does our extended family feel about all of this?  etc. etc....).  We may ultimately conclude that it isn't something God is asking us to do, but if it is - then, WOW.  What an amazing adventure that would be.

labor day weekend

Glimpses of our weekend...

(planning road trips with Grandpa)

(I wouldn't want to come across this guy (gal?) unawares - harmless, but startling)

(Hubby's sister)

(that's my dad in the hat and sunglasses)

(some of our nieces)

(my favorite wildflower - but I don't know what it is called)

It was a beautiful, wonderful weekend. 

Also, I don't have a picture of it, but Hubby cleaned up my corn syrup mess!  Thanks, Hubby, you're the best!  Seriously.

note to self #3

Never, ever, under any circumstances, no matter how good the idea may seem at the time, store corn syrup upside-down.

Especially on a three-tiered lazy susan.

the box fan

I-I-I
c-a-a-n
m-a-a-k-e
m-y-y-y
v-o-i-i-c-e
s-o-o-u-n-d
s-i-i-l-l-y...

w-h-e-e-n
I-I-I
t-a-a-l-k
t-h-r-o-u-u-g-h
t-h-e
f-a-a-n.

grapes

Do you ever have those moments when a sound, or a smell, or a taste just makes a memory explode in your head?  I had one of those rare moments last night.  Kiddo and I were walking around Hubby's parents' farm with my sister-in-law and her two cats last night. We walked past the grape arbor, and I plucked off a grape and popped it in my mouth.

The strength of the memories that one grape instantly triggered was slightly shocking.  It's hard to put in to words the feelings and memories and emotions that were brought up as I rolled that grape around with my tongue.  I remembered going out as a child and picking the grapes off of a vine somewhere, one after the other, and snacking on them, spitting out the seeds as I walked in the yard.  I had to call my mom to figure out where the grapes were that I was remembering.  We finally worked out that we had had grape vines along the fence at the edge of our yard when we were renting a house out in Eastern Washington.  I was about five or six years old.  I have several other random memories from that house - it is amazing to me how rich and vivid many of them are.  I wonder if there's something about being six - do you experience life more intensely, live it more fully, when you are young?

here, kitty kitty

Why is it that Kiddo seems to enjoy his aunt's kitties more than the two that we have at home? 

Is it because Aunt's kitties are still kittens, so that they actually are active and playful, instead of just laying around the house all day like our 9-year-old cats do?

Is it because they come running when they hear the kitty treat can opening, and then beg unashamedly?

Is it because they follow us around the farm like puppies when we go far a walk?

Is it because they're cuter than our kitties?

Maybe it's their names.  This is Twinkle:

This is Boo:

Whatever it is, he is smitten (over kittens!).  And to tell the truth, so am I.