A Real Boy!

I've got no strings to hold me down

To make me fret, to make me frown

At my very first dance recital, I taught a class of little girls who danced to a song from Pinnochio.  Childhood goes by quickly, but there are moments, even when you are young, that are turning points in your life.  One of my own milestones was that first dance recital.  I knew I had found myself.  My dad sat me down to chat about life.  He told me I was really smart and could do lots of things.  In fact, I was doing lots of things! Choir, art, soccer, dance, music lessons and probably more, were all on my plate.  His advice, choose one, follow that path.  I chose dance and never looked back.  Life winds on and at this point I teach a few hours of ballet a week to the cutest, most exasperating and hilarious little three year old ballerinas you could imagine!  They give me hugs and then tip toe away and do the naughtiest things!  I may leave class exhausted, but it's with a smile on my face because I'm doing what I live, helping little girls to be artists, inside and out.

That was a fun story, and now, for the life of me, I cannot remember where I was going with all that rambling. . . 

Oh yes, Pinocchio!  And, I chose dance.

Choosing to have children (biologically) is kinda like choosing to fall on a mattress. Haha!  :) No really, being a parent is hard, and I know that many people do not make that decision lightly, but compared to adoption...well, there is no comparison.  A friend recently commented to me that adoption is not for the faint hearted. Yes, choosing adoption is like choosing to fall on a land mine.  That land mine may blow up, it may not, you don't know when, if, and where.  It might shower you with a lot of little explosions over and over again, or just knock you out with one blast.  Either way you're pretty bloody.  

And I never thought I'd come to this

But it seems like I'm finally feeling numb to this

When we chose this path, we were serious.  We entered the ring (mostly) knowingly and although it's been a knock down, dirty, drag out, free for all, I'd do it all again.

In fact, I just did! We finally completed the paperwork for switching to Ukraine.  Our I600 is on our way to USCIS, where Joe will probably walk across the hall, chat with Steve about our I800 that we turned in for Kazakhstan, cash our second $800 check and send us on our way.  (For a longer story of complete government red tape and inane bureaucracy, please send me a chocolate bar.) But Joe and Steve, if you're reading this, I love you and, Go USA!    Just like the first time around, this process has been exciting, bewildering, expensive, and brought me to the brink of multiple nervous breakdowns.

Dossier-Paper Baby

The funny thing about a name is

You forget what the reason you were playing the game is

Choosing to adopt is like choosing to play Russian roulette.  And that is especially true in my case!. But this choice will always be looked back on as a turning point in our life. And it's one that I'll never regret.  Some how, some way, when you chose to pursue a dream that is such a tough battle, it's worth more than you imagined.  In the middle of the paperwork, in the middle of the chaos, I don't know what's around the corner, but I'm walking toward it, whatever it may be.

And it's all an illusion

A 21st century institution

So I'm headed down the open road unknown

I've felt such highs and lows since we switched to Ukraine. Imagining it as a sure thing one moment and then convinced of failure the next.  There's always unknowns in adoption-for parenting in general, but even more so with adoption-and Ukraine is adoption on steroids.  Traveling blind, country invaded by minions, I mean Putins, I mean no one, unknown special needs.  It's enough to drive a girl to a Cadbury egg. Or several. Thank God for Easter.  No really :)

And we find what we're made of

Through the open door

Is it fear you're afraid of?

What are you waiting for?

I mostly fear my dreams not coming true.  Why on earth my dream is to adopt a little boy from Eastern Europe, I have no idea.  It just is.  This week, my little boy is only wood.  Well, paper to be exact.  A big stack of papers sent off to my government. Another stack to be apostilled (look it up, it's a real thing!) And then sent off to be translated into Ukrainian.  And then sent off to. . .Ukraine!  I never got that far with my first paper baby.  But within a month someone in Ukraine could take my beloved pile of papers and transform them into a real boy.  My boy.

Love alone is worth the fight

Love alone is worth the fight

We're only here for a season

I'm looking for the rhyme and the reason

Why you're born, why you're leaving

What you fear and what you believe in

And we find what we're made of

Through the open door

Is it fear you're afraid of?

What are you waiting for?

Love alone is worth the fight

Love alone is worth the fight

Switchfoot