We're approved!! Now what?

So we are officially approved to adopt, as of 10/9. (We didn't even need the final visit!) Jean told us that we should expect that our home study would be sent to Korea this week or next and then we'll get a referral. The referral will be the information about our son or daughter which will tell us gender, medical information and background and everything else they can document.

So - we are officially "waiting". We know that our agency Love the Children, is known for their short wait times, which is thrilling for us. However, I have to admit that I didn't picture that the waiting would be this difficult. Every day feels a little like an eternity. Once you know there is a baby out there, somewhere, that is born and will be with you forever, you can't help but want to hold that baby in your arms. We know our child is loved by their foster mom, but we just can't wait to welcome him/her home. We hope to share very good news with you soon...

Meanwhile, the kids did a great mural on our playroom door. We love everything about it except the nauseating smell of tempera paint that it left behind! :) Take a look!

Hell, yes!

The other day at dinner, we were wrapping up and my energetic husband who can't sit still begins leafing through his mail. Apparently the stories of puppet shows, lunch menus and book reports were not interesting enough for him! Ahem, moving on...

Anyway, he picks up the latest copy of Architectural Record that had arrived for him that day and starts flipping through. If you are not familiar with the magazine, its a magazine of buildings. Lots and lots of them...with the occasional interview of an architect therorizing about buildings. Let's just say, it's not something that I thought I would need to screen for my kids. But -this particular day Steve was reading some article and my 7 year old son looks over his shoulder. "Daddy" he asks, "What does that say? - Hell, yes?" he says, proud and confident that he can finally read.

"WHAT?" I scream across the table. "What are you reading?" He shows me this building photo and on the front is a piece of big, bright sculptural art that says "Hell, yes!". While it's not really funny, my husband and I burst into laughter because we can't believe what is happening! My husband then begins attempts to explain the concept of "bad" words to my confused son...who at this point wishes he'd never learned to read in the first place. And if it's so bad, why are mommy and daddy laughing hysterically? We don't know, and we can't stop.

Later that evening, my husband wonders aloud if it's too much to ask to drive him to the train station for his early meeting tomorrow. Are you kidding? At 7:00 a.m., with two kids getting ready for school? I barely got the words out before he started laughing..."Hell, yes!"

Visiting churches...

So, I haven't had a chance to share this story very much, but it's worth a go...

I decided that while I was on Sabbatical, it would be wise for me to visit a church in a prominent location in our town to see if we'd have potential for connection. In reality, we are very much in need of space, and their location was absolutely a dream for us. I'd heard the stories of this church. It was rumored that with the exception of 1 or 2 people, everyone there would be 30 years my senior. I packed up my 2 children, donned my nicest church-going clothing (we're a much more casual church), and warmed up my hymn singing voice as I got ready to go. About 3 minutes before I exited the door, I got cold feet. I'm sure you can tell that I coerced myself into going or this would be the boringist blog ever. But I promise...I went, and it's good.

So, I arrived at the church at 9:40 a.m. with the service to start at 9:45. Now, let me explain something to you. At my church we are very late and very loud. 50% of our congregation is kids, so you can imagine how that affects both of those things. I arrived 5 minutes early, and I thought I might be the first because I didn't hear anyone, but I realized that it was one of those quiet churches. The kind that make you wish you hadn't worn corduroys. Anyway...

I am keenly aware that there is no one my age there, and there are no children except my darling little angels. Turns out the people at church notice this too. As soon as I arrive, I notice lots of stares. But, I am prepared for this, so I keep walking. I have to admit, that I KIND of thought they'd be thrilled to see me. And yes, I am THAT vain. I thought they'd jump for joy over this young woman with two beautiful kids who wanted to worship with them. I thought it would bring out their "inner-grandparent" instincts. But they weren't and it didn't. Many of these people were VERY aged. Some were in need of physical assistance, some had breathing apparatuses, and quite a few had enlarged hymn handouts that they needed because they couldn't read the 12 point text of the hymnal. I was not prepared for that reality. I thought it would be a group of 50 grandmas and grandpas ready to eat my kids alive - Turns out that most of them weren't the kid-loving type. At least my kids weren't bombarded with hugs and kisses. There's a silver lining.

The other thing that I was very confused by, is that there were people only sitting on one side of the church. Not wanting to impose my young family on some unsuspecting bystander, I chose to sit on the vacant side. Plus, I thought there were probably more people coming anyway, since I was a WHOLE 5 minutes early! I promptly picked seats on the other side of the church. As the service begins, I realized that while we are clearly set apart in age, we are also literally set apart in the sanctuary. Hmm... About midway through the service - at the fellowship time - I'm told by the pastor that they use space heaters to heat only half the sanctuary since much of their congregation is "older" and feels the sanctuary is too cold. She gives me the option to move or to stay. Being that I've settled in 2 children with our coats, belongings and bag of tricks, I opt to stay. Besides, by this time, I kind of like having 1/2 the church to myself.

The service begins. My kids have come prepared with a bag of activities to help entertain them. My daughter is coloring her fairy book and my son begins to color his velvet art. As he starts I hear "squeak, squeak, squeak" as the marker brushes against the cardboard. I look at him and he looks at me. As a very perceptive 7 year old, he knows that this sound is making a lot of noise for this "quiet" church and he wants my guidance. I look at him, shrug, and nod for him to keep coloring. "Squeak, squeak, squeak" he continues. At this point, I'm having a hard time containing the laughter. As my 4 year old daughter leans over to whisper something to me I am simultaneously realizing that I've never actually successfully taught her how to whisper. "Mommy? My underwear is bothering me." At this point, I'm hurting as I hold back the laughter. If you go there, you can remind them that I'm the smiley mom with the loud kids.

All in all, I have to say that my kids were AMAZING. I rewarded them with Wendy's of course! I couldn't help but think - we are a fairly quiet, reserved family- And we felt SO conspicuous! It would be interesting to see a non-quiet family darken those doors. I wonder if they'd stay?

Being fair, the service had it's moments. And I did talk to the pastor at the end. I made the connection, she apologized about not having a children's ministry. She said she could refer me to churches that do. I told her I lead a children's ministry and would be glad to be refereed by her to other families that come. She gave me a kind smile, but she didn't ask me for my name.

Well...I tried. I walked out my front door and into the church. It wasn't walking on the moon, but for me it was a big step towards both connection and breaking down the walls that divide churches. After all, we're all on the same team, right? Who knows what God will do. Maybe it just makes for a good story...