The one year mark must be approaching. I feel so good about mothering these days. Even on a morning like this morning–Ezzy is crying in her room, Juan P. is cleaning up his drenched pull-ups and pajamas, and Danny is pranking his sisters at the breakfast table–I feel great! As the effects of survival mode slowly wear off, I find myself settling into my own skin. Peaceful.

Maybe it is experience, maybe it is time, maybe it is simply the magical year of 33, but I feel much stronger these days. Is stronger even the right word? I am sure the added strength I feel is somewhat corollary to becoming a mom. But also, life is just better in my thirties! It is a similar feeling as to when I married Adam. I was 27 and life was pretty darn good. In fact, I could not imagine being any more fulfilled. This beautiful person came along, however, and filled up a part of me that had not existed before. Suddenly, life got better–in a blink.

We always hear that life gets sweeter as we age. In our juvenile brains, and in a society where the newest of anything is valued, we wonder how old(er) could possibly equal better. It seems counter-intuitive. And yet, at 33, I finally get it. I have entered into that wonderful phase of life where outside validation has little impact on the decisions I make, or how I feel after making those decisions. My peer group does not influence me like it used to. My confidence in how I parent, how I spend my time and my money, and how I treat my spouse is solid. I don’t care if people think we are weird for resisting television, wanting to homeschool, etc… It doesn’t matter to me because I know what is right for me and my children. So yeah, I am stronger.

I was on auto-pilot for the first three years of my thirties. But year 33 has found me. I literally feel myself hitting my stride. And I am so pleased to be exactly the person I envisioned being at this age. My children look different than what I expected. I can’t fit into my wedding dress (yet). I live in the desert–yuck! But the person that I am on the inside…what I value, how I act….is exactly who I want to be.

I love being thirty-something!!! If my thirties are this good, I can’t wait for my forties.

I saved this post for far too long. Now I have an appropriate place to post it. :)

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To no one in particular,

I am quite sure that your slight remarks, quick roll of the eyes, and obtuse views of my parenting are due to the fact that you are completely incompetent at parenting yourself. If you think I am too structured, too strict, too hands-on, that is fine. I know it is completely counter-intuitive for you who takes no responsibility. If you have a problem with my expectations for my children, please feel free to talk to me in private.

Heaven knows, you would not want me to talk about your parenting in front of everyone…like how your children are starved for structure and attention because you cannot seem to get off of My Space, Facebook, U-Tube, whatever! Or how your children are complete terrorist having no consistent consequences EVER for their behavior. 

Contrary to your view of the world, children do not need another friend–they need a parent. They need structure. They need engagement. They need a mother who models strong moral character and sacrifice. They need a teacher. But hey, who I am to know anything? I mean, I have only “been a mom” for five months (so now it’s been nine :). I never thought I would use this line because I have hated it for years. But you have no clue! And just as I have no idea what it is like to dodge responsibilty my entire life, while having multiple children in the interim, you have absolutely no idea! 

If you think you can do a better job at raising four adopted children, I invite you to spend a week in my home, solo. You’ll need to be engaged 24 hours a day. You’ll need to actually do housework and laundry, keep the family budget buzzing, and cook dinner every night. You’ll need to practice letters, sounds, and words with all of the children every day after homework time. You will need to juggle four children chirping in your ear after school that they need your help with this or that or the other. You will need to go to the park and watch the kids ride their bikes outside–yes, you will actually have to play with them.

You will need to deal with Juan P’s tantrums firmly. You will have to actually say “no!” You will need to be off of the computer most of the day. You will need to spend your free time giving attention to each child–reassuring each of them every single day that they are loved and wanted. You will need to run interference every few minutes. You will need to get used to not having TV. Aside from normal kid stuff, you will need to monitor and correct food issues, intimacy issues, bonding and attachment issues, language barrier issues, etc… And you will need to put extra time into a thriving loving marriage so that it stays as strong as possible.

Good Luck!!!!

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Okay, I feel better now. Thanks for listening.

Wrote this a few weeks ago over  on the family blog.

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Upon returning from Bogota, we received the ninos’ Certificates of Citizenship from  USCIS–very important documents. Check!  We were informed by more than one source that before we could apply for social security cards (which we need in order to claim the children on our 2008 taxes) we needed to get the kids’ Certificates of Foreign Birth from the Nevada Secretary of State. So we did that, recently in fact. Check! I even had the paperwork overnighted on our FedEx account both ways so that we could have it expedited.

Today, I finally applied for social security cards, which was an adventure. Actually, my number was called in a timely fashion. I smiled at the lady behind the glass window as I plunked the stack of 10 or so stuffed manila envelopes down on the counter. She gave me that look, you know the one. The “oh boy, here we go” look. Don’t worry, I am so used to it by now. I was the employee’s first International Adoption case so things went very slowly, which was totally fine. I told her I didn’t mind being her guinea pig, if she didn’t mind that my two sons were playing with naked Barbie dolls behind me (hey, at least they were trying to put the clothes back on).

The annoyances arose as she asked for help from her supervisor. I won’t bore you with the long of it. Just imagine that person in your office or at church or on the PTA who not only thinks they know everything, but is ’so sure’ that they try to make you feel badly in the process to validate their own assumptions. Yeah! I just smiled politely (as I ground my teeth inside of my mouth), and asked them to tell me exactly what documents they needed to move the process along.

For those readers moving along in the international adoption process, here are two helpful pieces of info I found out today:

1. Certificates of Foreign Birth are not needed to apply…..as long as you have:

a.) cert of citizenship

b.) original birth cert w/your last name

c.) adoption decree

d.) child’s passport with immigration visa

Now this is accurate for kids coming in on an IR-3 visa only–not sure about other immigration statuses.

2. If you are applying for more than one child at a time, the SSA will not issue cards sequentially. This means that if you are on a deadline, for example, trying to file a tax return, make sure that you give yourself enough time. Our children’s applications will be filed every two working days, which means that I only received a receipt for my oldest, today. Juan P.’s app will not be put in the system until next Friday at the earliest.

It looks like we might have to file an extension after all. :)

So my best friend is pregnant. And we’re not talking a little pregnant. We are talking bursting boobies, peeing constantly, going to have the little guy any day pregnant. I haven’t blogged much about my personal experience with her pregnancy because 1. this is a sacred experience for her and her husband, which I have done my best to honor, and 2. I haven’t wanted to jinx the good luck she has had with this pregnancy.

It seems like just yesterday that she called me in Bogota terrified and sobbing. I will never forget that moment. Jena and Brian were trying their best to wrangle the wild beasts (that really is what they were at the time) into bed so I could step out on the balcony and take the phone call. It was rainy and dark and cold, and I could hear the franticness in her voice. I knew those emotions and thoughts all too well, and I felt her desperation through the phone. It killed me to know that my house was just down the street, but I was thousands of miles away.

The realization of another pregnancy left us both fairly faithless that it would develop into something miraculous. I am not ashamed to admit that. When you have experienced miscarriage after miscarriage, your first thought isn’t “Woohoo, I am pregnant again.” It is, instead, ”Oh crap, here we go again. Are you kidding me?” We end up checking ourselves every hour for the inevitable spots of blood. We remember the physical pain, and emotional anguish, of all the grief we have felt before.

And yet, we still try. Why do we try? Because we are believers. And because faith and hope are tightly and inseparably intertwined. So when we feel like our faith is almost depleted, those little glimmers of hope–however shiny and tiny–pick us up and push us on. Hope that something miraculous could eventually happen. Hope that tomorrow is always better than today. Hope that God knows us individually and is keenly aware of our most righteous desires. Now, eight months from that phone call, we are hanging baby clothes, having baby showers, and sprinting happily toward the baby finish line. A true miracle. A true strengthening of faith.

For me, there have been moments of jealousy, of course. There has been some sadness for our own fertility hopes unfulfilled. But those moments have been surprisingly few, actually. Part of it is due to being so busy with our little adopted sunshines. Part of it is me consciously deciding to be happy, no matter what. Part of it is the ability I have to talk to my friend…there is no pretense between us that everything is always okay!

But also, I am just different now than two years ago. I am so grateful that I purposely allowed my recent trials to refine me and to strengthen me. I can’t wait to hold Baby Lea for the first time, truly. I can’t wait to cuddle him, smother him, and spoil him. And I know that the allowance of these feelings are only due to the compassion and strength I have gained from miscarriage and adoption. Look at what I would be missing out on, if I had allowed infertility to consume me. I am so grateful that my faith continues to be strengthened by wonderful experiences such as Jaime’s pregnancy.

And it is not a moment too soon, since all of my friends have decided to be pregnant at the same time. Blech!

And it feels so good. I have decided that this is something I need to do for me, and for others. I noticed that my last post here was in January. Obviously, we have updated on the family blog regularly in that time, but it still feels like I have been gone from adoption blogging. Today, I am going to repost two of my recent rants from the family blog here. I feel like this space should be their permanent home.

Recently, as things have calmed to a lull around here, I have lit my own fire to seek out more Colombian specific adoption blogs, and other adoption blogs that deal with real day-to-day adoption issues. I want to always stay connected to our adoption process, and to those who fight the fertility fight. Blogging helps me keep that focus. Blogging allows me to share our story–I know the kids will appreciate it one day. Blogging, in some weird way, makes me be more honest about what really goes on around here. :) Blogging affords me opportunities to talk about fertility, and our continued struggles.

I know there are things I can/should be doing to help our little ones continue to heal, but when things are running relatively smoothly it is difficult to make myself get moving on it. I know that blogging about it helps me stay motivated. I feel much more brave when I blog. I miss the honest and non-sugarcoated posts of my past. So, here we go!!!

 Oh, and after months (years at this point) of complaining/whining from our beloved friends and family, we have made it easier for you to comment. You do not have to register anymore–or remember your password.

You can thank me later. :)