T minus 49...

As I type, it's just under 48.5 hours until Rob comes home, and I must say, it's actually gone by faster than I thought it would.

It's incredibly silly for me to note the length of his absence given the frequency with which I travel. It's actually beyond silly. It probably borders on obnoxious, but I figure he was a bit concerned with how things would go, too, the first time I left town and he had to manage the situation all alone.

I know people do this every day, but it's clear that I am just not very organized. Sam's fine. He's happy. His routine barely seems disrupted. I know it's all going swimmingly on the surface, but it's become apparent that I can just barely take care of myself on a regular basis.

I've always been conscious of not taking my superhuman husband for granted, but perhaps I will have to try even harder from here on out. Rob makes our house function. I am mere window dressing, and not necessarily good at that either.

Seriously, I'm feeling like I can't keep up with my almost-three-year old. How is it that someone who regularly requires 12 - 14 hours of sleep to be a civil human being can outlast me like he does? By bathtime, I'm pooped myself!

The secret of all of this is that I'm guessing the weekend will actually be more exhausting than trying to juggle Sam's schedule, my work, an entire department in from out of town for three days worth of meetings and a bunch of laundry to boot. I'm feeling a great deal of pressure to be fun. I bought him a bag of contraband Cheetos tonight, so I think we're well on our way.

Still a chance?

I swore I would stop looking at JaeHo's listing on RainbowKids, but I caved tonight. I still think about him all the time... Well, as I know the rules, children over three aren't eligible for adoption from Korea. He turned three nearly a month ago, but he's still listed. I HOPE that means that perhaps they're still actively searching for a permanent home for him.

I had the thought, too, that he's still listed as an active case because someone is in process for him. That would be the best news ever at this point. A few people have come out of the woodwork in my Holt circles to say they got the same response we did about not being allowed to view his file. The biggest blessing is that the conversation about so many families being rejected actually caused more people to take a look at him. I REALLY REALLY REALLY hope some good news will come soon. It happened when we were sponsoring Rogette... She'd been in a group home in Haiti for eight years when we started sponsoring her, and she ended up getting placed just four months later!

Cute Sam story of the day... It's not news that he adores the movie Cars. He seems to recall different lines from it regularly, then repeat them until even he can't stand the thought of them anymore. The last one to have worn out it's welcome? "To not to." Prounced "Tuh Not Toooo" by Mater. As in "Sam, what did Daddy say about touching the buttons on the TV?" Uh..."Tuh Not Toooo."

The new fave is "WAKE UP, SLEEPING BEAUTY!" It sort of sounds like "Way UP, Seepin Booty" when he says it, but we know what he means. Thanks to my never-ending rash of germiness, Rob has retreated to the guest room for the past few days, completely terrified that he'll have *gasp* sniffles while out of town for work. I want to sympathize. I do. Traveling while under the weather is for the birds. It can be done, however... Sometimes a wife just needs to know her husband isn't completely skeeved by her, ya know?!

Anyway... I woke up just as Sam did this morning and went into his room. He asked where Daddy was. I took him right to the guest room, where he proceeded to SCREAM "Way UP, Seepin Booty Daddy!!" Rob actually jumped!

I am easily amused.

Rejected

Ok, that sounds a bit too harsh. I knew it was a longshot to get chosen for the creative team of a well-known designer, but such is life... I wasn't chosen. She was very sweet, though. She just chose scrappers that have been around a while. Can't blame her. Their stuff probably gets looked at more. Being the PR guru that I am, I knew how that cookie would crumble.

I'll try not to sulk as if I was chosen last for the dodgeball team. ;-)

Seriously. Enough with sounding sad... I'm really just happy to have been considered. (I know I'm very often saracastic, but I'm really not in this instance!)

In other news, I've decided that Sam is a low-level germ factory. Well, it would be more accurate to call him a carrier... He picks up germs at school, goes about his playing-eating-sleeping life, giggling all the while MOMMY gets deathly ill.

I'm exaggerating a lot today. I'm not deathly ill, but perhaps a bit miffed that all week he's been frolicking on the playground at school while I trudge through my job with eyes too gooped up to see (now cured thanks to outrageously expensive bottles of drops) and a lovely chest bug of some kind that somehow manages to make both breathing AND thinking difficult. So, I'm off to the doctor for my second visit of the week.

I wonder if I can accrue US Airways miles for each doctor's visit? I think there's a marketing opportunity there somewhere.

Our new friend

Every night when we take Sam out of the tub, he wants to "hide" from whoever hasn't been the one to wrap him up in his lion or puppy towel. Basically, I wrap him up, carry him to his room, and tell Daddy that I've lost Sam. Daddy runs in, looks all around the room while Sam hides his face but audibly giggles, and then Sam jumps out and "scares" Daddy.

This game apparently never gets old. Ahh, what joy there must be in being two.

Well, last night it was my turn to get scared. Daddy had Sam wrapped up in the lion towel and I came into the room to search for him. When I looked on the top bunk for him, I noticed the coordinating lion puppet washcloth that we rarely use. I guess I thought I'd mix things up a bit by pretending I'd "found" Sam when I found the little lion.

Sam found this to be hilarious.

Then, he started talking to the lion puppet. Not just "Hi, Lion" like he might usually do, but Sam needed to know his name, where he lives, who his friends are, who his favorite train is, if he wanted to read stories before bed... You get the picture. They made fast friends.

When he got up this morning, we found "Leonard Lewis Lion" neatly arranged on the pillow, where he'd been sleeping. He needs more shut-eye than Sam, as it turns out.

I thought this might be a one night thing, but he was all about Leonard tonight, too. The good news is that he's decided there are no monsters with Leonard by his side. Not quite an imaginary friend, but serving the same purpose, I assume.

It's fine with me. The Monster Spray thing is only fun when you're not getting wet at every turn. Which I was.

I finally got inspired to scrap a story of Sam's arrival today. I realized that I could easily do a whole album on the subject, but I loved how the first page turned out. A nice designer who just retired a couple of weeks ago surprised me with an email that includes links to every single thing she was selling in her store, including several templates, so I used one of them to do this brief journal entry of how we "found" Sam online. People have been telling me to write the story down for a long time and for some reason, I can never do it. It's kind of like the story about what I experienced when I lost my first ectopic pregnancy. It was an overwhelmingly emotional experience and, even being a writer, I've found it hard to commit to paper. Having fun scrap stuff for this page helped me wrap my mind and words around it. Not sure there's a kit for the other story, but maybe someday I'll discover a therapeutic scrap remedy for that one, too...

An addiction gone mad...

For the approximately four people that I think may ever read my little blog, you all know me well enough to know two things. One -- I have a wee tendency to overschedule myself. Two -- which compounds the aforementioned -- I am addicted to digiscrapping. (Thanks to Noel, who totally enables the habit!)

So... I decided that, should some particular fun thing come to pass, that I will absolutely find time to live up to my duties. What duties? Those bestowed on the members of a digital designer's creative team. I am already an "Oh Girl," happily helping my friend Randi get her design business promoted, but I also decided to challenge myself a bit more. A designer I really like posted a Creative Team Call this week, and like a loon, I applied. We shall see what happens... (The curious can check her out at www.laurenreiddesigns.com/blog. Cool stuff.) I won't say more here for fear of pandering. Assuming she even looks at my blog, the URL of which was required in the application, I don't want to look disingenous.

Yesterday was our buddy Ethan's first Gotcha Day! His parents, Kim and Ted, are great friends who experienced the whole process with us. Next to Sam's arrival, there was no other travel call that got me as excited at Ethan's. We love to take silly pictures of Sam and Ethan, and joke that they'll hate us when they're 15. It's just nice to think.. KNOW... that the boys will still be in each other's lives then. And their siblings, too! Kim and Ted and Rob and I are all ready to get things moving again, so we have plenty of additional opportunities to commiserate over paperwork, waiting, waiting and waiting.

Monsters no more

Well, it worked!

Mommy's Monster Spray, along with a fierce Diesel 10 resting next to Sam did the trick!

My little boy slept like a brick for yesterday's nap and again all night last night. No night wakings, no screaming, no early morning wake-up (well.. he was up at 6, but that's normal for him!)

Let's hope it sticks! Mommy and Daddy feel like new people having gotten a whole night of sleep.

Things that go BUMP in the night

I bought Sam an adorable pair of Sully slippers from The Disney Store about a year ago. They were so cute that I bought them long before they'd ever fit him. Every so often, we'd pull them out and try them on. It should have been a clue that this day was coming that he was never very happy to see the fuzzy footwear, complete with claws.

When I say "this day" has come, I mean that we've reached the there-are-monsters-under-my-bed phase. Since Sam's bed is a bunk with the bottom mattress right on the floor, we don't actually get goblins *under* the bed. Ours hang out on the walls with "eyes" that stare at my poor kid as he's trying to sleep. They follow him to our room, too. If we bring him in to our bed to help him get some rest, he just stares at the place on the wall where a bit of a glow from the streetlight comes in, certain that those are moster eyes, too.

He's complained about it before, but not to the point of fearing his own room. He apparently was working his way up to all-out terror. I feel AWFUL about it. He's been waking up for a few nights, whining that he wants to come into our room. He usually starts at about midnight, and we have been thinking it was just a ploy (because he's gotten pretty good at those, too.)

Now I realize that he was probably just dropping off after a long time of fighting sleep for fear of being joined by monsters in his bed, and waking soon after, scared to death to open his eyes. Seriously, it would break your heart to see it.

As soon as Sam woke up for real this morning (at 7 a.m.... Hallelujah! He may have finally gotten past the 4:30 wakings, though I'm half-guessing those might be monster-related, too.) he started telling us all about the "scary, scary monsters" hiding in his room. We told him that monsters aren't allowed in our house, so it must have been his imagination, much like when he pretends to make us blueberry pie.

He wasn't buying it, so he and I went off to Target right after church today. If you didn't know, the store that has everything you'll ever need also carries monster spray, cleverly disguised in a 79-cent spray bottle that we filled with H2O at home. (Funny aside: when I picked up the bottle and held it up to show Sam in the cart, he squealed at me "Don't point that at me, Mommy! I'm not a monster!")

Just for good measure, we also got a Diesel 10 engine because Sam firmly believes that big metal claw is just the thing to threaten large monsters, and a little kiddie lantern that he can keep by his bed.

Perhaps it was overkill, but I remember being terrified of the scary old faces that I swore popped out of my Holly Hobbie curtains as soon as my mom tucked me in, too. Not gonna happen to my kid.

One more funny that's too good not to share (because there haven't been enough poop stories around here lately.) Sam's Sunday School teacher Susan saw him standing quietly in the corner of the room this morning.

SUSAN: Sam, are you ok over there?
SAM: Yes.
SUSAN: Are you poopin'?
SAM: Yes.
SUSAN... approaches Sam to change his diaper.
SAM: Stop. Please go to the other side of the room now. I poop by myself.

Spicing up my name

I'm in a hotel room in Boston (feeling incredibly guilty that Rob is home with my double-pink-eyed son... and that I made a bad call/erroneous diagnosis and took him around both his cousins and his daycare buds before the green goop arrived and confirmed the verdict.) and ran across a blog that made me crack up. Seriously, a couple of these made me laugh out loud all alone. I think that alone is a sign that I needed the break!

Your real name:

Karen

Your Gangsta Name: (first 4 letters of real name plus izzle:}

Kareizzle

Your Detective Name: (fav color and fav animal)

Purple Wolf

Your Soap Opera Name: (middle name, and childhood street)

Christine Nall

Your Star Wars Name: (the last 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first name, first 3 letters of mom’s maiden name)

Kerkaloh

Your Super Hero Name: (2nd favorite color, favorite drink)

Green Gimlet

Your Iraqi Name: (2nd letter of your first name, 3rd letter of your last name, any letter of your middle name, 2nd letter of your mom’s maiden name, 3rd letter of your dad’s middle name, 1st letter of a sibling’s first name, last letter of your mom’s middle name)

Achoumn

Your Witness Protection Program Name: (grandmother/grandfather’s first name and Jones)

Darlis Jones

Your Goth name: (black, and the name of one your pets).

Black Eleanor

Toddler Highs and Lows

I'm reminded tonight of the crazy joys of having a 2 1/2 year old boy in my house, as well as the, shall we say, yuckier aspects.

I'll start with cute and funny... I didn't do much to beautify today. I was lucky to have enough time for a shower, so I just blew my hair dry in any direction it wanted to go. The point was just to go downstairs without a wet head.

I had a haircut last week. Let's just say the result of going au naturel was not pretty. My hair stands in wild curls all over my head. At least it justifies the new, straight do.

Well, when Sam saw me, he just looked at me and said very questioningly, "I like your hair, Mommy." Then he just kept staring.

It reminded me of two HILARIOUS exchanges from the past two weeks.

While in Kansas City, my mom was getting ready in the hall bathroom at my aunt's when Sam came for a visit. It went like this:
SAM: Whatcha doin' Nonni?
NONNI: I'm having trouble. Nonni's having a bad hair day.
SAM: *runs as fast he he can down the hall to me...in the kitchen, working on my laptop.*
SAM: Mommy!! Come quick!! You got to help Nonni!
ME: What's the matter with Nonni?
SAM: She havin' a bad hair day!

I have not laughed that hard is a long time.

This exchange taught him the meaning of the words "bad hair day." The next week, before my haircut, I pulled my hair back to wash my face using one of those hairbands that look like a giant ponytail holder. It kind of made my bangs stick up on top of my head.

Sam was in the bathtub behind me, just watching intently. As he stared curiously, without breaking his gaze, I asked what he was looking at.

His reply? "Mommy? Are you having a bad hair day?"

Again... peals of laughter.

Now for the ultimate in gross toddler stories. I'm sure other moms have all been through this, but it was my first experience with true nastiness from my child.

A little while ago, I found him watching Bert and Ernie sans pants. I asked him to pull them up unless he needed to potty. He replied in the negative, so we went on with our evening.

I ran upstairs a while later to drop something in my office. I hear him trudge up the steps, announcing that he needs his poopy pants changed.

I take him into his room. I turn around to get a diaper. I turn back to him to find him with his pants down, holding his poopy bum. Let's just say I didn't know poop could get in so many places so fast.

I put him in the tub, thanking God that my child LOVES to play with bar soap. After applying the requisite amount of friction to actually get him clean, I let him stew in Lever 2000 (antibacterial, of course) for a good long time.

Nice night for Daddy to be out, huh?

I started the evening thinking it HAD to be better than last Wednesday, when I ended Valentine's Day in the Emergency Room passing a kidney stone. Again with the revelations: who knew such a tiny thing could cause such tremendous pain?

Tales from the road

Well, we've been in Kansas City just under 48 hours now, and I've already made up for 19 years of NOT driving the roads in my hometown. I feel like I've been in the car since we got here.

This is a very spread-out city, which becomes very apparent when you have meetings and plans to see relatives on the same day. I think I drove every single major road in the Kansas City metropolitan area yesterday... in the snow.

There wasn't a lot of snow, but for some reason, it sent everyone here for a loop. I was listening to the news on the radio, and realized that I'd seen with my own eyes at least half of the 15 accidents they were detailing in traffic reports. I was lucky to have missed the 35 car pile-up on I-35. Seriously. After less than an inch of snow. We're considering moving here at some point WHY?!

Does global warming or El Nino or whatever natural phenomenon that has given us such a warm year also take with it the collective ability to drive in inclement weather?

At least people here are nice on the roads, though. Can anyone in New Jersey recall the last time you saw an entire lane of traffic move left when approaching an entrance ramp so as to make it easier for the merge traffic to join the flow?! Everyone does it. Really weird. Nice for an out-of-town driver like me, but still eerie.

We have more playdates today with cousins. Sam has been a total champ in the travel department. Other than not figuring out how to nap at a strange house with Nonni on duty, he's been fantastic. His little body clock has been set spinning, but he's been happy and ready to entertain all the new people he meets.

His hall of fame remark so far?

My aunt asked him, "Sam, did you fly here on an airplane?"

His deadpan response, "No, it was a jet."

On the Move

We're on the move... in more ways than one.

I'm being a brave mommy according to anyone who's heard that I'm headed to Kansas City today with Sam in tow. I've got a meeting with in our High Plains office on Wednesday, so took the opportunity to use up leftover vacation time. I'm excited to introduce Sam to many of my family members for the first time!

I'm not so sure how brave I am. I think that award went to Rob when he flew to Laguna Beach with an 18-month-old Sam to visit me at another meeting. Sam had been home just five months and Rob braved two legs of air travel to meet me in Orange County. Alone.

I've got a slightly older and more experienced child traveler with me, as well as my mom. Nonni will be put to work this week, I'm sure!

Sam's very excited to hit the road. He's known we're going for weeks and keeps asking when we get to fly on "Big Jake," the freakishly weird looking passenger jet on Jay Jay the Jet Plane. I also told him we were going to visit my family, including my Uncle Bob. I relayed this bit of information while in Sam's room, seated in front of his Bob the Builder tent. There's a two-foot-tall picture of Bob on the tent. Sam leaned over to Bob's ear and exclaimed, "Bob! We're comin' to your house!"

My Uncle Bob is all prepared to fill the role. He even bought a hard hat for the occasion. Sam now asks me daily is Bob if going to show him his tools. As luck would have it, my uncle has plenty of tools in his garage to show to a delighted toddler. He has granddaughters, so I think he's secretly eating up the opportunity to show a little boy his own toys!

The other move news is not terribly dramatic for anyone but me, but will suck up naptime for a few weekends to come. I'm working on moving my blog to WordPress so that I can have a bit more creative control. It's probably some sort of clinical problem that I'm manually moving every post I've ever made just so that I can have a digiscrapped blog banner on my page.

I'll get even more ambitious once that move is made. I'm responsible for launching Relay For Life's first-ever website (with the help of lots of people much smarter than me, of course.) It's built in Drupal, a modestly amusing word for open source software. I like to know as much as possible about how things I'm responsible for actually work, so I'm going to learn Drupal by building my own webpage/blog. Rob has visions of me somehow making money that way to help fund the next adoption, but my sights aren't set quite that high. I'll be happy with some proficiency in coding as well as a pretty page to post all of the stuff I make.

I wonder when I officially inherit a "geek" title?!

Molly or Mommy?

I remember with fondness the days that *I* was my son's best friend... It was only a few brief months ago when he started declaring my position on his pedastal on a regular basis. Daddy was included, too. We were both deemed his "best friend," and he fully understands we are a family.

Apparently the pedastal is easily rocked. All it takes is Nonni and Bitty spoiling him for a weekend while Mommy and Daddy tag-team a Relay meeting in Austin, TX.

Seriously, our trips only overlapped by about 14 hours, but in those precious few hours, Nonni had purchased a new Molly train that Aunt Bitty presented to him.

This morning, while eating breakfast together (that's me, Sam AND Molly at the table) he started feeding Molly his yogurt and kissing her little yellow face.

Then, I heard the words: Molly... You're my Best Friend.

I know it's typical toddler behavior, but my delicate little mommy feelings were slightly wounded!

On the bright side, he was as kissy, huggy and happy to see me as ever when we were reunited yesterday. He was particularly impressed with the wearable blanket my ever-so-romantic husband won for me during a Relay raffle. That's a story probably best saved for Valentine's Day, though romantic it's not. Sam kept declaring that he loved my "dress." I paired the lovely frock with a headband when I'd washed my face. The whole picture was less than fabulous, but my sweet little boy kept telling me how pretty my dress and hair were. So, I wasn't totally replaced in just one weekend.

Sam's eating habits may have suffered while I was away, too, but at least he's branched out a bit from beige food... My mom made sure to inform me that she'd indulged him with two breakfasts on Saturday. The first was hot chocolate (which he called his coffee) served with a nice bowl of Cheetos in front of the TV! The second was his favorite family speciality... cinnamon bears.

Rob continued the trend on Sunday morning. When Sam pointed to a box of Chex and said "Want those," my husband somehow assumed he wanted Rob to make the Chex party mix recipe on the box for breakfast. I am doubtful that a 2 1/2 year old recognized a photo as a recipe AND that Daddy could instantly produce it, but alas, Daddy could and did. Sam ate a nutritious mixture of corn Chex, pretzels, raisins, M&Ms, kettle corn and marshmallows for his morning meal.

Try to imagine how easy it was for me to give him yogurt and fruit this morning...

I'm so indecisive

At least when it comes to this blog... Some weeks/months, I deem to do much better at keeping up than I do others.

My two issues: I get behind and then it's overwhelming to catch up... sort of like laundry, and I'm not great at that either.

I'm also still fully addicted to digiscrapping. The more I learn, the more I want to do, which has made me ponder moving my blog to some place that I have a bit more "control' creatively. While I ponder, I sort of stopped blogging.

It dawned on me that it was sort of stupid to stop all together while I decide, especially since it's January and this was last year's resolution. I guess I subliminally thought a resolution only lasted a year!

This year's resolution, now that I'm doing a better job of memory-keeping, is to actually print what I do. We've also committed to a "real life" resolution... To PLAN our budget and menus out better. Should help with finances and Weight Watchers for both of us... Wish us luck!

Now that it's already mid-January, this will be a fairly pathetic rehash of the fun family memories from the holidays, but here goes:

Christmas with a toddler was awesome. Sam really seemed to appreciate opening gifts this year. The cutest thing was that he would actually try to "read' the back of any package he got. I think he noticed us doing it with books, music, etc. He was really serious about his study of new gifts, though!



He was not a Santa fan! His first words Christmas morning were to "get that man out of my house!" He was happy with his cool train table that Santa left, though, so I'm pretty sure he'll be more welcoming next year.

We had a great New Year's... We didn't have much planned, so we went down to see the down-the-street cousins. Sam had a blast and stayed up very late.

All that's left to do to apply for Baby #2 is to get our physicals done. I'm hoping we'll luck out with the timeline again and have an early summer arrival so that we can all be home together for a while... I won't count those chicken just yet, though.

Happy Belated New Year!

Cheese Alert

I know it's kind of cheesy, but the whole time we were waiting/trying to have kids, and especially when we were matched with Sam and waiting for him to come home, I kept imagining how great it would be to see my son with my dog, Frankie. (Yes, I have two dogs, but in my mind, Frankie was destined to be a boy's best friend.)

I'll admit that perhaps I've been a bit more than suggestive of the notion that Sam and Franklin are *supposed* to be pals. Sam's big boy room is decorated in Pottery Barn Kids "My Best Friend" pattern which is, as you might imagine, dog-themed. There's an awesome watercolor of Frankie hanging on the wall. I constantly try to get pictures of the two of them together.

Alas, Sam and Frankie don't have much more than an occasional passing interest in one another. Sam's not terribly fascinated by any creature that can't talk back to him or rewind Bob the Builder at the appropriate moment. Franklin, whose main pasttime is sleeping, is none too comfortable in range of a two-year-old who's wont to tug on his tail and then wail when the dog darts off. Their most common shared experience is that of Sam shrieking for Frankie to "get away, doggie. That's MY food," when the pup gets too close to a snack Sam's enjoying. (For the record, this has happened once too often, actually. The dogs have been banned from the house when Sam's eating anything. Anyone who knows Rob and I from our pre-child days would probably gasp at the notion that we'll even consider canine banishment.)

The story has a new chapter today, and I'm a very proud mommy for it.

Frankie has become a teeny bit braver about nuzzling me when Sam's nearby lately. He's either decided Sam is predictable enough to take the risk or is just so attention starved that he no longer cares what he has to do to have his ears scratched. With Sam on my lap, Frankie came up for a pet today. Sam asked, giggling, what Franklin was doing when he lifted a paw to my knee to get my attention. When I replied that Frankie was "saying he loves us," Sam told me that he loved Frankie, too.

Then... He got down, went and got his blankie, petted Frankie's back ever-so-gently until the dog laid down (understanding that the situation wasn't dangerous) and then wrapped Frankie up. He told me that he was tucking Frankie in for a nap and then proceeded to lay his own head down on Frankie and told me to "Shhh. Frankie's sleeping now."

Sam loves Frankie. Frankie loves Sam. Maybe my not-so-subtle efforts to force the friendship weren't in vain?

He'll hate me someday

Does every parent find taking pictures of their children doing weird things fun? Why is it that I feel most compelled to grab the camera when Sam's doing something that he'll surely find embarrassing once he's a teenager?

Case in point: Sam's overly eager participation in the enjoyment of his cousin Linsey's birthday gift. We gave her a set of six totally frilly, sparkly and dainty Disney Princess dress-up slippers. The credit goes to Uncle Robby who spied them quite a while ago and knew she'd love them. Not to take credit away from him for being perceptive, but one of the more noticeable things about our sweet niece is that she loves to wear very dressy shoes. She was at our house not long ago in a regular play clothes outfit, completed with a pair of glittery pink Mary Janes that had been part of her Halloween princess costume.

Anyway, you get the point. Linsey is a completely normal five-year-old who takes immense joy in flaunting her girliness. (One of the qualities that really makes me want a girl some day... I somehow doubt Sam will find tea parties with Mommy very fun, though trust me -- I will try.)

Sam, as much as he may appear to be all boy (anyone who has spent more than five minutes with him knows his love of trains, tractors, airplanes, helicopters, trucks, cars, construction equipment, etc...) is actually a bit of a closet diva. Similar to those moments when he asks if he can "please wear lipstick, too, Mommy," he could not wait to get his hands on a pair of Linsey's cute girl shoes.

Once he slid his little feet into a purple pair of Jasmine heels, he looked around, grabbed her aqua satin purse and happily trotted off to enjoy the satisfying click-clack of his new footwear on the hardwood floor.

I enjoyed the moment, yes... But I also nearly knocked Linsey out myself trying to get to the camera. I immediately mentally filed the moment (along with the image of him wearing a soapsuds mohawk in the bathtub) in the I-can't-wait-to-show-this-to-your-prom-date-please-don't-hate-me-for-laughing category.

One Little Word

Along the lines of the "you're my best friend" cuteness, I had to "write" this down. As is usually the case, I'm sure the phase won't last long.

So, the quick story:

I got home very late last night from Orlando. Sam didn't know I was home when he woke up (VERY EARLY!) this morning. I walked into his room, causing squeals of delight. It was loud and ear-piercing, but I couldn't have been happier to hear it after having been gone since Monday morning.

I went to sit down in the chair in his room, and he came running over to me. He asked me to hold him and snuggled down, patting my face.

Then he looked up at me and declared, "Mommy, we're a family."

He's said it a few other times, but I still well up each time. Saying it to me today, after we'd been separated for a few days, made it seem like he was really thinking about why he was so glad to see me. I'm pretty sure there's not such a complex thought pattern involved, but it's the sweetest thing to hear nonetheless.

Our new toy

I'm sure it's my cold and/or the death rattle in my chest that's preventing any sort of significant, intelligent thought between my ears, but seriously... I'm about to go to bed after finally getting packed for my next business trip and the only thing I can think is that I can't believe our new camera has been sitting in the house for four days and we have only taken about five pictures on it.

A little context: we fretted over spending gift money on a camera when the one we have works just fine, we just don't like it very much. We finally did it on Thanksgiving morning, then stalked the FedEx Tracker widget on our desktop as if the man in orange and blue would be arriving with the winning PowerBall ticket or something. We knew the camera would make it to our doorstep on Thursday afternoon. I flew down the steps when the Budget truck arrived (no joke, FedEx has so many packages to deliver that they've run out of trucks, or so the nice temp driver told me when he handed over the long-awaited box) and then just placed the large cardboard box on the dining room table.

Seeing as it was actually Rob's birthday money that paid for the camera, he insisted I wait for him to even LOOK at the camera. Anyone who understands the depth of my new digisrap addiction knows that the presence of a new camera has taken on greater significance than it might have a few weeks ago...

So, I waited. I actually ran downstairs between conference calls once he was home just to watch the packing tape come off of the box. How sad is that? Rob then annoyingly read off each item on the user's guide as he pulled accessories out of the box "just to be sure it's all there." Painstaking, I tell you.

I've seen it. It's very pretty. It feels nice in my hand. I haven't figured out the auto flash yet. I've commented on about 14 things we SHOULD/COULD take cool pictures of, but alas, the fog of snockiness kept me horizontal more than vertical this weekend, so no new photos.

Speaking of vertical, off to bed now that this little diatribe is off my chest. I have to be up at 4 to catch my flight.

Let's hope...

...that Santa Claus is smarter than the "crib fairy."

Sam moved to his big boy bed a few weeks ago... The transition wasn't too difficult for any of us, but as soon as he walked into his room the first night that the crib was gone, he kept asking, "Where my crib go? Who took it?"

Being the quick thinkers we are, we replied that the crib fairy came and took his crib. We made a big deal about how he was officially a big boy now.

He seemed proud and satisfied with our answer...until we left for school this morning.

As it turns out, that silly crib fairy didn't go far with the crib. We'd "heard" that it broke during disassembly. Apparently she has no use for broken cribs and only took it as far as our curb.

As we left the house today, Sam just stopped and stared at the pile of trash. "What's that?" (he asked knowingly.)

"That's just the trash. QUICK!! Let's see if we can find a really big trash truck that makes cool loud noises!!" I replied, while mentally noting to have a word with the crib fairy after work today.

To lighten the mood

I've been deficient about blogging again lately. While it's true that my new obsession with digital scrapbooking is taking its toll on my blogging time, the real reason why I haven't posted anything here is that I honestly haven't felt much like writing. I'm happy to play with pictures of Sam for now... Writing makes me think of the other little boy in Korea that I can't get out of my head. Being denied the opportunity to look at his file has really been bothering me. I was trying to get in a better frame of mind about it when I talked to another adoptive mom this weekend who is a) collecting items for kids who are never adopted and age out of orphanages and b) has adopted two boys who are just six weeks apart. I got all fired up again that this little boy is sitting in a home...

On the bright side, I will say that I am in a holiday mood this year like never before. Our little family of three just feels so much more settled this year. We had an awesome Thanksgiving weekend. Lots of time with family, which is always the best way to spend a holiday, and plenty of time to get the house decorated to make it really feel like Christmas is coming.

Sam definitely KNOWS that the house has to be all lit up for Santa to find it. When he sees a plane in the sky, not only does he say "Hi, Big Jake," as usual, he wonders aloud if Santa and Rudolph are up there, too!

Tonight, we finished the lighting of the outside of the house. I said I was going to lighten the mood, and my thought was to share this one-liner from my husband that I'm certain will become legendary in our house: I hate when he climbs ladders. Especially the big ones. I just don't feel like my little hands holding the bottom is any help at all when it comes to the possiblity of him falling from two stories up.

When I asked him why he felt it necessary to always find a reason to be up near or on he roof, he replied quite matter-of-factly, "Big ladders make me feel like a man."

He is SOOOOO going to wish he hadn't uttered those words!

105-30 and B70

When we first "found" Sam, it was via a small picture in a blue frame labeled B70 on our agency's web site. We read the brief bit of information that was available to the general public and eventually ended up requesting his file and being matched with him. There are obviously more details to that story, but the moral is that we were meant to be together. There's no explanation short of a miracle that a child whose face we stared at on the Internet for months, who was born in another country and living with another family, is now the gleeful toddler that runs our lives.

Because we were so blessed with that experience, we have felt called to pursue our next adoption through the waiting child process. Given the circumstances of our family, we think a slightly older infant or toddler -- that perhaps would not be readily matched with the pool of prospective parents seeking as young a baby as possible -- is a good fit for us.

To that end, and because Sam has adjusted so nicely, we've slowly started to dip our toes back into the proverbial adoption pool. As with anyone's decision to deliberately add to their family, it's not a decision to be taken lightly. That's why we're going slowly. We know what lies ahead, and that amount of paperwork and the loooooong wait, is not for the faint of heart.

Now that we're braced for the years ahead (which is how long this will take!) we finally made the decision this weekend to request the file of a sweet faced little boy that we have "watched" online for nearly a year. This little guy, perhaps because he actually looks like he could be Sam's brother, tugged at our hearts from the first time we saw him. We know now not to ignore that pull, since that's how we we lucky enough to be matched with Sam.

Little 105-30 has been a single photograph and a case number to us for a long time, but when we talk about "that little boy online," we both know who we're referring to. He hasn't needed a name for us to keep him in our prayers, but this weekend, we learned his name.

It seemed like the final nudge we needed that someone on our agency's message board brought his name up in a discussion thread. My attention obviously perked up. To make a long story short, we ended up getting some additional details about him from someone who had seen his file but had to decline his case. She was incredibly encouraging to us, and he sounded like he was doing very well.

I steeled myself Monday morning and made the call to the U.S. agency handling his case. I waited all day for the social worker to call me back, not quite sure what that conversation would mean.

As much as I trust the advice of professionals, I was a bit taken aback to learn that we are not even eligible to review his file. I understand intellectually that a qualified adoption expert says two children just seven weeks apart in age are not necessarily an ideal fit. Particularly since one has slight delays in his development and one does not.

I won't belabor the details, but I ended my day yesterday saying that at least we had closure. I trust that God has a hand in making sure that adorable child will find his true family like we found Sam. It prompted us to decide what our next steps will be.

BUT.

So much for being at peace.

I went to drop Sam off this morning and saw that the box of items we are collecting for other orphans who will "age out" and have to find their way in the world on their own, never having had a family, was still fairly empty. I got in my car after noticing this to hear Steven Curtis Chapman's "All I Want for Christmas (Is a Family)" at random on my iPod.

That's when the next stage of grief -- the anger -- hit me. I know in the end that I have to trust the way this has worked out, but I can't help but feel mad and sad that some other human has the power to say that having no family at all is better for this boy than being with us would be.

I will keep praying for him in the very same way that I know more than 80 families prayed for Sam after picking up the phone to ask about him over two years ago. Some of them surely felt the same dismay at the outcome that I do in this case.

It's back to Plan A for us now. We'll put in our initial application for a sibling for Sam after the first of the year. I know that we'll eventually have our second perfect-for-us child home with us. I will hope in the meantime that this boy somehow feels that families like ours keep him in our thoughts and prayers.