Life As We Know It

So, the last time I wrote, I told you if things were quiet around here, it probably meant there was exciting news coming soon. Well, in case you haven't noticed...it's been quiet. But alas, dear reader(s), it's not because I'm keeping good news to myself. It's because there's no news to report.

We've entered a bit of a lull in our adoption journey. No calls, no emails, nothing much in the way of website traffic. The average wait time from "going live" to adopting is about 12 months with our agency. We've been waiting for only about five months so far. We got off to a whirlwind of a start, and got more than we bargained for, really. So, actually, a little bit of time to catch our breath may be a good thing. Waiting can be hard, and wondering can be scary, but we're making the best of it.

The truth is, Amber and I love the life we've made together. We can't wait to bring a child into our family, to share the love, warmth and fun that make our lives so full. We can't wait to be parents together, to watch with wonder as our child grows into the person he or she is meant to be, and to guide him or her along on that journey. We're looking forward to sweet baby snuggles, loud toddler giggles, and walking our proud kindergartener to the first day of school.

But, we aren't desperate or unhappy with the life we have now.

One day, an expectant mom making an adoption plan will find us, and know we are the right family for her child. It may be sooner, or it may be later, but we know without a doubt it will happen someday. And until that day comes, we're just going to try to keep living our lives to the fullest.

So, in honor of living life while waiting, here's a little update on the non-adoption things Amber and I have been up to while we've been waiting...


In July...we officially went "on the books".  To celebrate, we spent the weekend in the nearby Blue Ridge Mountains.  We got a cute little cabin, loaded up the dogs, and headed out for a relaxing weekend.  We went canoeing, hiked, shopped around the quaint little town stores, had a nice candlelit dinner, and made s'mores on the cabin porch.  It was a wonderful way to start "the wait"

Exploring the woods around our cabin.

Phil and Amber relaxing on the cabin porch.

Me and the canoe.

Ready for dinner at the cabin.

In August...we took our first road trip to visit my parents in their new house in southern Ohio. The occasion was my mom's 6oth birthday, but we were also celebrating my dad's new job as dean of the regional campuses for Miami University, and my parents' return to their hometown, Middletown, OH. We had a nice, relaxing weekend and got to spend time with my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins who all live in the same town.  We had a wonderful family brunch together while Amber and my cousin's daughter explored the house, basement, and yard during a very involved imaginary game of "Captain Adventure".  All I know is there were invisible alligators, a plastic mini-parachute man, and clapping could make people disappear.  Don't ask.

On the road for 8 hrs and still smiling!

My mom and uncle play with their new ipads before brunch.

Dad is on clean up duty!

In September...We had old friends come visit, and we enjoyed spending the weekend showing them the town. It's always fun to see Atlanta again through a visitor's eyes.  We are lucky to live in such a fun and busy city, and (most of the time) the weather can't be beat!

Just like old times...

Amber also went whitewater rafting with the "Touch the Earth" program at GSU.  She is more adventurous than I am, and is always up for a water-fueled adrenaline rush.  She had a great time on the river with her co-workers and even made some new friends.  They stopped for a nice picnic lunch on the river bank, and everyone (except my warm-blooded Florida girl) took a dip in the icy stream to cool off.

One of those people is Amber.  I swear.

The next weekend, Amber and I enjoyed a short hike with the dogs at Clyde Shepherd Nature Preserve, in nearby Decatur.  One of our favorite ways to spend a fall afternoon is exploring local parks, nature preserves, and short hiking trails.  We aren't hard-core backpackers or anything, but we like to get outside, breathe some fresh air, and enjoy the beauty of nature.  Phil and Byrdie love it too.

Amber and Byrdie check out the bird watching blind

I don't know why there was a lifeguard chair in the woods. But I climbed up and sat in it anyways.

In October...we went to Atlanta Pride and had a wonderful time.  We watched the parade, ate some greasy festival food, and walked around, looking at all the booths.  We capped the evening off watching Antigone Rising, a band we have liked since we first saw them play at a lesbian dive bar in Long Island during grad school.

The best part of all, though, was the people watching.  I don't know if it's the residual anthropology left in our blood, or our penchant for reality tv, but Amber and I love to people watch.  And nowhere is the people watching better than at Pride.

This year, the thing that struck me the most was the families.  There were families everywhere.  Moms with their babies, toddlers, and kids. Dads with their babies, toddlers, and kids.  Groups of families enjoying the beautiful weather together, spread out on picnic blankets, with three and four strollers lining the perimeter.  Gay teenagers with their middle-aged, straight parents, walking hand in hand as they looked at the PFLAG, HRC, and GLSEN booths.  There were even families where the children had one mom and one dad, and no discernible connection to the gay community.  That's one of the best things about the Atlanta community...gay people are just a part of the fabric of life here.

Waiting for the parade to start.

Hanging out with our little friend A. at her first Pride Festival.

In November...we celebrated Thanksgiving in Orlando with Amber's family.  We had a tasty traditional Thanksgiving dinner with enough turkey, ham, dressing, corn casserole, mac-n-cheese, green beans, and cranberry sauce to last for days.  There were too many desserts to count. Enough to feed a small Eastern European country, I'm pretty sure.

The next day, we all visited Animal Kingdom together for the first time. It was amazing.  I volunteered at the Toledo Zoo, working with monkeys and apes, when I was in college, and spent one summer working in the petting zoo there.  A day trip to a great zoo is still one of my favorite weekend activities.  But, Animal Kingdom is a zoo like only Disney can do it.  In addition to a great African safari with real animals, there were roller coasters, 4-D movies, and plenty of overpriced food and souvenirs, too!  We couldn't have packed more fun into a single day.

In front of the "Tree of Life" at Animal Kingdom

The whole family on the Dinosaur ride.

A close-up so you can see what a chicken I am.  Amber will be our child's "roller coaster buddy", because even the kids' rides scare me!

Petting a goat in the Animal Kingdom petting zoo.  More my speed.

In December...we celebrated our good friend's birthday at one of our favorite restaurants, the Melting Pot. Hot bubbling pots of cheese and chocolate, steak, shrimp, and a bottle of wine?  It doesn't get better than that!  I wish birthdays came everyday!

Post-Fondue Bliss.

We also made a trip to Stone Mountain Park, and walked the five mile trail around the mountain.  Stone Mountain has always been one of our favorite places to visit, and its only 10 miles from the house.  We like to take the dogs swimming in the lake there during the summer, and we enjoy the Songbird Habitat and Garden Trails during the spring.  This was our first hike around the full loop trail, and despite the cold weather, we had a great time!

Taking a hike break.  Byrdie needs no break.

Right before we saw the sign that said "Don't Climb on the Train"

The actual mountain of stone.

They're busily setting up the tubing slope, complete with man-made snow.
Can't wait to come back in January for tubing with friends!

Coming Up Next...the holidays!  It's a busy season, with travels to Florida and Ohio, holiday parties around Atlanta, celebrations at work and with friends.  We're looking forward to every last minute of it!  And, after the holidays, comes Amber's birthday in January and our 13th anniversary in February.  We have so much to look forward to right now.

And of course, more than anything, we're looking forward to the day we'll become parents.  But, until that day comes, we'll keep looking forward to all the moments in between.

x's&o's,

Michelle

Keep Your Heart Inside the Ride at All Times

All's been mighty quiet on the blogging front lately.

My astute reader(s) may have already deduced by now that silence = something, and they'd be right.  Oh sure, when nothing's going on with our adoption journey, I blather on and on right here on this very blog that is supposedly about our adoption journey.  But as soon as something happens, you better believe mum's the word around here.  I'd say sorry, but I did warn you already.  So just let it be a lesson to you, and in the future, if it gets quiet around here... take it as a sign, and just cross your fingers for us, ok?  Can't hurt, might help.

So, what's been going on, you wonder?

Well, if you were here in my living room, I promise I'd present to you--live and in person--a three act interpretive dance chronicling the last two months of our lives.  But, lucky for you (and for my feeble hamstrings), I can't dance on the interwebs.  So, in lieu of that, I found this lovely video that sums it up nearly as well:



chhk-chhk-chhk-chhk....

We are just plugging along up the the giant hill that is this journey to open adoption.  We get an email from the agency saying someone had added our profile to her "favorite family" list.  Minutes later we get the email from her.  She is young...pregnant...scared; only looking at gay families, and she really likes our profile.  She wants to talk and gives us her number to call.

the excitement and anticipation build.  the angle of the climb pushes us back in our seats. we grip tighter to the shoulder harnesses, and giddily twist and dangle our feet below....

Amber calls her first.  They have a great conversation.  It is short, but it is fun and easy.  Not stilted and awkward like some of the calls before.  I talk to her later, and it goes well too.  There are things about her life and her family that concern us, and she is so early on in her pregnancy. We wonder, is she serious?...will she really place?...how will her conservative family feel about her choosing lesbians to raise her child? But, we just like her so much, and it just feels so right, we are willing to take those risks.

So, we keep talking.  Once or twice a week.  And then come the emails, the texts, and the facebook friendships.  It just keeps getting better. We are nervous, but we are hopeful.


we reach the top of the hill, so high up we see nothing but sky. and for one split second, we just hang there.  knowing we are about to careen forward down the slope, but frightened for just a moment that we won't make it over the hump.  scared that instead we'll slip backward down the hill from where we came, only to have to start the ride again....

She's talking to another couple still.  We've known this from the beginning, and we understand it as part of the process.  We can't imagine how she has time or energy, because we can barely eat or sleep, so much of our energy is being poured into her.  We can't imagine how she can have as great of a connection with anyone else, because this just feels so right to us.  But we accept it.  She only has one chance to get this decision right, and she needs to do whatever she needs to do to be sure.


we pitch forward and gravity drops the seats out from under us. speeding down the hill, with the wind blowing our hair and stinging our faces, we feel nothing but pure exhilaration....

She's picked us!  I get her sweet, emotional email early one Sunday morning, and run screaming into the bedroom.  Leaping onto the bed, I wake Amber to tell her the great news.  We are thrilled.  We call her that night and have a wonderful talk.  We chat excitedly about baby names, nurseries, child care and parenting philosophies.  We are all so happy to have found each other.  She plans to call the agency Monday and tell them of her choice.  The agency will call the other couple and tell them she has chosen us.  They will bow out gracefully.  She will submit her paperwork.  Soon we will be matched!


we reach the bottom of the hill, speeding faster now. gravity pushes us hard down into the seats again, and we catch our breath for just an instant.  then suddenly we lurch unexpectedly to the right.  slammed against the side of the shoulder harnesses, we hang on tightly through the curve....

The other couple won't leave her alone, she says.  They are texting and calling and begging her not to choose us.  We are appalled.  Who would do that?  And who would think it would work?  She's upset, put off, and maybe a little afraid.  We are angry, not so much for ourselves but for her.  To make a difficult decision harder for a young woman in this situation is deplorable.

She pulls back a little from us, and we understand.  She is clearly shaken.  She doesn't turn her paperwork in to the agency, and we understand.  We don't push her.  She's been pushed enough.  We want her to know we aren't like them.  We give her the space she needs.  And she comes back, confident again in her decision, sending us ultrasound pictures and updates from her doctor's visits.


we are racing faster now, up another hill and picking up speed.  the track in front of us shoots straight up, and as we enter it we realize we are about to flip upside down.  through the loop we go. we can't tell up from down. the sky and earth tumble over one another.  gravity pulls us one way, the whipping wind blows us another....

She's not who she says she is.  There were signs from the beginning. Stories that didn't quite make sense, details that changed in the retelling.   But we figured teenagers lie sometimes.  They stretch the truth, embellish a story to make themselves sound better.  The agency even assured us, it was not uncommon for someone to tell a few white lies to make their situation sound better or even sometimes, worse.  We give her the benefit of the doubt.  We try to put it out of our minds, and keep getting to know her, hoping the more she trusts us, the more honest she will be able to be.

But then there is Google.  And sometimes the internet tells you more than you really want to know.  And so we know for sure now, that she is not who she claims to be.  She has two lives, really.  An internet life and a real one, and she takes great pains to make sure the two never cross. But we have stumbled into both.


shooting out of the loop, we barely even get our bearings before we enter a corkscrew.  upside down and sideways at the same time, over and over...

We don't know what to do.  We try to come up with reasons why this is happening, why she is doing this.  We give her the benefit of the doubt; far beyond a reasonable doubt.  We actually read scholarly articles on false internet identities among teenagers growing up in this age of the internet, and convince ourselves what she's doing is not entirely insane. And then we realize it is, in fact, Amber and I who are being slowly driven insane by all of this.


finally the spinning and twirling feeling stops. we've come through the corkscrew, and are gliding slower now over small hills.  we are still numb from the sustained disequilibrium, but we can see the end of the track in the distance.  we loosen our grips, and just let the track jostle us along as we wait for this to be over....

The final straw was something silly.  An untruth so slight it hardly seemed worth the effort of lying about.  But there it stood, shining a glaring light on the fact that if she was lying about this, she could be lying about anything.  And really what it meant was that she was probably actually lying about everything.

And so, with nothing left to lose, we press her on it.  And she responds quickly and flippantly with another lie, and a promise that she'd finally turned in her paperwork and our match would soon be official.  We know that it is her last, half-hearted attempt to keep us hooked.  We are sad.  But we are also strangely relieved.


the track flattens out, and we rattle slowly along, nearing the ride's end. we start to take full breaths again.  we move easily in our seats now, noticing for the first time the bumps and bruises from the twists and turns.  but we are both in one piece, and we don't regret getting on the ride....

As we expect, she doesn't really turn in her paperwork.  Instead she tells the agency she is suddenly having doubts about her adoption plan.  We aren't surprised.  We email and tell her we understand, and we wish her well.  And the strange thing is....we honestly do.  We're not mad, just numb.  If she is really pregnant and is really struggling, we hope she gets everything figured out and makes the best decision for herself and her baby.  But, we also tell her that we know she has been untruthful.  We tell her that we can't keep doing this, unless she's willing to be honest.

We send the email and prepare ourselves to never hear from her again.  I hold on to a tiny kernel of hope that she will come clean, apologize, and explain herself, and eventually we will be able to move forward again together.


we enter the dark, covered area where the platform stands, and lurch to a sudden halt.   we are once again thrown against the shoulder harnesses, this time a little harder than expected.  the hydraulics of the ride let out a final loud sigh, and so do we....

She doesn't apologize.  She doesn't say anything.  She just disappears. Poof!  The facebook profile disappears.  The jig is up.  This jig, at least. Maybe she has more.  At this point, we don't care.  We just want out.


we step out of the ride, and stand wobbly-kneed on the platform, blinking into the dark, trying to see which way to go next.  we stumble for a minute, wondering how we will get on another ride, after a mind-boggling ride like this.  we wonder if we'll ever even find another ride in this not-so-amusing park.  


but then we step out into the light of day, put our arms around one another, and decide to just keep taking one step after another, until we eventually find the right ride.  that's what we came here for, we know it's out there somewhere, and we're not leaving until we find it.


I just hope the next time it's more like a merry-go-round.

x's&o's,

Michelle

Amber & The Case of the Facebook Meme

Today, on a very special episode of "Michelle & Amber's Open Adoption Blog"....Amber loses her blog-ginity.


{Scene: Michelle & Amber's living room.  Michelle and Amber sit on the couch, Michelle's legs stretched out with her feet resting in Amber's lap.  Empty take-out containers of sushi are stacked on the end tables.  The TiVo is paused, freezing an episode of Modern Family on the screen.}

Michelle:  You should write a post for our blog.

Amber:  Ugh. No. That's your thing.  You like it.  You're good at it.  You do it.

Michelle:  I know.  But you'd be good at it too.  You're good at Facebook.

Amber:  'Good at Facebook'?!  Who's 'good at Facebook'? What's that even mean?

Michelle:  I don't know.  I like your status updates. They're funny.

Amber:  That's different.  I'm not writing a blog post.

Michelle: C'mon, you said you'd never do Facebook, but now you love Facebook.  You'd love writing a blog post too.  You just have to try it.

Amber:  No.  And I don't "love Facebook"...

Michelle: You do. You love it.  It's ok.

Amber: I'm not writing a blog post.  You know me.  You just write it and say it was me.

Michelle:  No! I have enough things to write.  You write it, it's not that hard.  I'll find you a meme.

Amber:  A what?!

Michelle:  A meme.

Amber:  What the hell's a 'meme'?

Michelle:  It's little questions or lists or writing prompts that people post on blogs.  Things that give you a chance to post little clever snippets without having to actually come up with a topic for your blog post.  And then they go viral or whatever, and a bunch of people post the same thing.  Like that "25 Random Things" thing from Facebook.  Ooooh.  That's perfect.  That's what you'll do.  You'll do the "25 Random Things" Facebook meme for your blog post.

Amber:  Hrmph.  Can we just watch this show?

Michelle:  Ok, but you're doing a blog post....

Amber: We'll see....

{Fade to black}

Without further ado, we now present "25 Random Things About Amber" brought to you tonight in it's entirety without commercial interruption.


1.  I'm finally driving the Suburu Outback that I've wanted ever since I turned sixteen.
2.  I've been a vegetarian since I was 14 years old because I love animals too much to eat them. I turned both my younger sisters vegetarian by showing them gory pictures from PETA brochures.  My mom still hasn't forgiven me for that!
3.  I would have a house full of dogs rescued from the pound if it weren't for Michelle.  This is why I'm not allowed to volunteer for the ASPCA.
4.  I take a weekly spin class at GSU, and have a secret penchant for bass-thumping dance mixes.
5.  I've never met a stranger.  I think people are fascinating, and I can talk to anyone.  About anything.  For hours.
6.  I can't wait to become a mom.
7.  I love to read and always have been able to get lost in books.  My favorites are mysteries, spy thrillers, and cop books, and my Kindle is my favorite new toy.
8.  I have a death fear of roaches.
9.  My sisters are six and eight years younger than I am, and I loved being a mini-mom to them when they were growing up.  Now that we're all adults, I love and value the close relationship we all have with one another.
10. I have a master's degree in anthropology.  I did field work in archaeology.  No, it's nothing like Indiana Jones.  It is, however, exactly like Lara Croft.
11.  I got chased by a moose in Alaska on a family vacation.  I stepped between a mom moose and her baby moose, to get a picture.  The rest of my family ran and hid in the van before I even knew what was happening.
12.  The first bone I ever broke was my wrist from a skateboard fall when I was in the third grade.
13.  I have an extra bone in my foot that most people don't have.  I didn't know it was there until I broke it by tripping and falling in our driveway a few years ago.  Oops.
14.  I'm left-handed.
15.  I grew up playing softball, but my mom also made me take jazz, tap, and ballet classes.  I still have nightmares about being the chubby kid in a purple leotard, dancing to "I Heard It Through The Grapevine"
16. I had a 'coming out' party when I was sixteen, but not the type you would think.  I was a debutante, and had a formal debutante ball.  I still have nightmares about that, too.
17.  One of the best vacations I ever took was to Sicily to meet all my relatives.
18.  Michelle and I celebrated our 10th anniversary in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.  It would have been the best vacation ever, but I ended up in a Mexican hospital.  Word of advice: Don't drink the water.
19.  The next year, we decided to play it safe and stay in the US for vacation.  I got stung by a stingray on that trip.
20. I love the water, and I miss living on the beach.  Frequent road trips to Florida and the Georgia coast fill that void.
21. My grandfather worked for NASA, and I grew up watching shuttle launches from my own backyard.
22. Jade, Fonzie, Michelle (the poodle, not the person), Ebony, Muffin, Skittles, Snickers, Cheena, Hobey Cat, Nut & Honey, Zacheus, Max, Jake, Kermit, Roger, Aurora, Peta, Janice, Mocha, Jerry, Phil and Byrdine are the names of all the pets I've owned.
23. I have two tattoos.  Someday soon there will be a third.
24. I'm a secret shoe whore.
25. I didn't really write this blog.  Michelle did.  I'm really stubborn and wouldn't do it.  She's more stubborn, so she did.

If Amber blogged, it would look like this.

x's & o's,

Michelle

Must Love Dogs. Or The People Who Love Them.

Some people are "dog people."  They love dogs.  They can't imagine life without cold noses, sloppy wet kisses, big, sweet brown eyes looking up at them when they're sad, and happy, wagging tails greeting them at the end of a hard day.  Their dogs have beds and toys and balls and gourmet treats to eat.  Stray dog hairs stuck to wool winter coats are a fact of life in their house.  Trips to the dog park are a weekend must.

Amber is a "dog person."

I like dogs, but I'm not a "dog person."  I'm a "dog people person".  I like people who love dogs.  And, it's not just Amber...although she IS my favorite "dog person" (and my favorite person, in general).  Many of my closest friends are dog people, too.  There's just something about people who love dogs that I can appreciate.  I guess the things "dog people" love about dogs--loyalty, kindness, exuberance for life--are the same things that I love about "dog people."  I admittedly have a soft spot for dogs, themselves, too.  I just don't want to be licked in the face, thank you very much.

At 5 yrs old, I loved Freddy, but I still didn't want him licking me in my face.

Growing up, I had a dog (Freddy) and later, a cat.  Amber grew up with too many pets to count.  Mostly dogs, but some cats, bunnies, and small rodents thrown in for good measure.  When she was 17 years old, she became a 'puppy raiser' for a group called Canine Companions for Independence.  She raised a sweet young golden retriever puppy named Aurora, and taught her the basics to one day become a companion dog for a disabled person.  Amber and Aurora were inseparable.  Aurora accompanied Amber everywhere as a part of her training.  Then, after over a year together, Aurora went off to New York to complete her advanced training, and Amber left for college.

A sad farewell.

Luckily, the story doesn't end there.  Aurora went off to advanced training and promptly flunked out.  Not that she wasn't smart, or didn't have a good teacher.  No, Aurora simply missed Amber too much.  She got depressed, wouldn't eat, wouldn't perform her tasks, and the training center had no choice but to call Amber and see if she would take her back.  Of course, Amber wasn't faring too well without Aurora either, and she immediately accepted the offer to take her back.  In fact, I'm pretty sure in that picture there, where they are supposedly saying goodbye, Amber is really whispering "Ok, so once you get there, just stop doing the tasks...and look real sad...and refuse to eat....."  Aurora always did follow commands well.

When Amber and I met in college, Aurora was right by her side.  Eckerd College was the only college in the country at the time to have "pet dorms" so students could bring their pets to college with them.  But, at that point, Amber didn't just have Aurora.   She also had this furry, fat football of a dog, with toothpick legs, buggy eyes, giant ears, and whiskers sticking out wildly all over his face.  His name was Jerry (after the recently deceased Mr.Garcia).  Amber got him from the pound soon after Aurora left, hoping to fill the void.  

Jerry loved Aurora. He just didn't want her licking him in his face, thank you very much.

Jerry and Aurora quickly became a perfect team.  They loved college life...roaming through the quad, chasing their dog friends through the dorm hallways, and eating cold pizza scraps from under the picnic tables.  They may or may not have attended a few keg parties in their day, as well.

Like all of her pets before them, Jerry and Aurora were Amber's babies.  And, when we started dating--as much as I'm loathe to admit it--they became my babies too.  They slept curled up in our bed.  Most often Jerry slept soundly with his head on one person's pillow, and his butt in the other person's face.  We fed them little pieces of whatever we ate.  At one point, Aurora even had her very own couch in our house.  When Amber got a job at Georgia State, she even managed to convince her boss to let them become "office dogs."  They both had successfully attended 4 years of college, after all.

Jerry & Aurora take a coffee break in the office lounge

We lost both Jerry and Aurora to cancer three years ago.  Aurora's illness was long, and we fought it with everything we had.  The day she died, we discovered Jerry was blind.  We hadn't realized it before, because Aurora had been acting as his guide dog for who knows how long (I told you she was faking it when she flunked out of guide dog school!!).  We bought him a doggy stroller and carted him around wherever we went.  Four months later, we were shocked to find out Jerry had a fast-growing, invasive cancer.  There was nothing we could do, and he passed as well.  It was a difficult time in our lives.  A time we couldn't have made it through with anyone but each other.

But we made it--together--as we always do, and now we have two new special dogs in our lives.

Phil came from a rescue organization in North Georgia.  He is a full bred, registered bichon frise.  Bichon frises look like this: 

When we got him, Phil looked like this:

And this was AFTER his first bath.  When we first saw him he was the color of Georgia clay, and I swore he was a poodle/weenie dog mix.  So, needless to say, we thought the rescue dude was lying to us.  We kept telling him that we didn't care.  We weren't looking for a purebred dog.  In fact, we preferred a mutt.  But he showed us the papers, and there was no denying it.

Phil will never have the exploding cream puff look of a show dog.  But, now that his hair has grown back in, he is pretty darn cute.  

Phil of the Jungle, basking in the sun.

And he's as sweet as can be.  Smart?  Oh no, definitely not.  But, loving as all get out.  And SO. EXCITED. TO. SEE. US. every time we come home.  And, really, if we just walk back into the living room after being in the kitchen for a few minutes, he's SO. EXCITED. about that, too.  He's the kind of dog that if you were Southern, and he was a person, you'd sigh and say "Bless his little heart" whenever you mentioned him.

We got Byrdie from another rescue organization about 4 months after we got Phil.  They couldn't be more different.  She was a street dog before we got her.  Animal control picked her up off the streets of southern Atlanta with her puppy, and the rescue organization saved them both from being put down.

When we first brought her home, she was freaked out by everything.  The telephone ring scared her.  She didn't know how to lay in a dog bed.  She paced endlessly around the house, looking for a way out.  But, we spent a lot of time working with her, getting her to trust us, and now she's a total sweetheart who likes the softest dog bed in the house.  She still eyes the television a little suspiciously when the Animal Planet is on, but we're working on that....

Phil and Byrdie are special dogs.  But, they're just that...dogs.  They aren't our babies the way Jerry and Aurora once were.  Yes, we take them to the dog park.  We love walking them around our neighborhood lake in the evenings.  When we spend a weekend at a mountain cabin, they come too.  But, they don't sleep in our bed.  They don't get table scraps.  And sometimes, when we go on vacation, they stay home.

We love our dogs, but we're at the point now where we are ready for a real child.  The kind without fur.  

We're looking forward to our child growing up with dogs, the way Amber and I both did.  I know Phil will be the perfect lap dog for our kid.  He's the kind of dog that will willingly wear baby clothes, ride in a stroller, sit at a tea party, or do whatever else our child wants during a game of make-believe.  And Byrdie will be a great dog for our child to run with and chase around the yard.  She'll make a great catcher (and fetcher!) as our kid learns to throw a ball, too!

Maybe our child will--like Amber--be a "dog person."  Maybe he or she will be a "dog people person" like me.  Or, maybe our child will turn out a "cat person", because his or her birth mother loves cats.  That'd be ok, too.  We could get a cat.  

Just don't tell Byrdie.

x's&o's,

Michelle 

These Are Days. And Those Were, Too.

This past weekend a good friend of ours from college came up from Florida to visit for the weekend.  We spent the days showing her around Atlanta, hopping from art festival to street fair, stopping for tasty local food and great sushi, and capping the weekend off with a dizzying venture through the wide, wide world of Ikea.  We spent the evenings cooking and eating elaborate farmer's market meals together, and laughing and reminiscing about our college days.

We came away from the street fair with a new wallet for Amber and a cute wooden necklace pendant for me.  From Ikea, we bought a box of wine glasses called "Nordby" (Baby name alert!!.... still kidding) for $4.99.  We got nothing from the art festival, partially because everything was a billion dollars, but mostly because whenever we go to arts and crafts festivals, I mutter the whole time "I could make that."  I'm woefully overconfident about both my artistic skills and my motivation to create art.  We still have a stack of wood pieces in the basement, because I swear I'm going to create an exact replica of a $70 wall hanging we saw at a shop in Blue Ridge a few months ago.  Someday.  When I figure out how.

The new necklace I couldn't have made myself.

But, aside from the new material possessions we acquired this weekend, I acquired--or more accurately was reminded of--two even greater things:  1). I love living in Atlanta (see above), and 2). Amber and I are very lucky to have had the profound and life shaping experiences we had in college (see below).

Amber and I met in college.  Eckerd College, in St Petersburg, FL, to be specific.  It was an awesome place, a place both of us still hold dear in our hearts.  Yes, it was on the beach.  Yes, I went to class barefoot on the regular.  And yes, we had a waterski team instead of a football team (Go Tritons!!).

But, it was more than just a four-year vacation to coastal waters.

It was a small, private liberal arts school, with an emphasis on the "liberal."  We didn't have the usual boring courses many schools have.  There was no English 101, no required US History course.  Instead, there was Biodiversity (I & II), Western Heritage, Marine Biology, and the senior capstone class "Quest for Meaning." Don't get me wrong, the classes were rigorous, the professors were amazing, and we learned everything required of a baccalaureate degree.  But, more than just learning, Eckerd promoted thinking.  It promoted exploring the world and our position in it.  We had two regular semesters a year, plus a one month "Winter Term," where you took one intensive, experiential course.  Amber went to Costa Rica and Nicaragua to study their social welfare systems and volunteer at a refugee camp one Winter Term.  I created my own Winter Term program, and spent a month in the rainforest following capuchin monkeys and studying their behavior.

But, it was more than just four years of classroom learning and field trips.

It was a place where separately, Amber and I discovered who we each were, and together, we realized we were meant to be together.

We were both Anthropology majors, and had seen each other around campus and in a few classes since we were freshmen.  But, it wasn't until the fall semester of junior year, when we both took "Cultures of Sub-Saharan Africa" that we really got to know each other.  We hit it off pretty immediately, but it took us about six months to build up the courage to admit it to each other.  In that six months, though, we spent nearly every waking moment together.  We would set out to study for exams together, but would end up staying up all night, talking in Amber's dorm room instead.  We told each other our life stories.  We shared our innermost thoughts, philosophies, and fears.  And we laughed.  We laughed at ourselves, at each other, and at things that nobody else would even find funny.

And finally, after six months of this ridiculousness, I worked up the courage to tell her that I really liked her. That even though I only ever had dated guys before, I was falling in love with her.  That I wanted us to give this whole 'relationship' thing a whirl.

And she said........nothing.  Not a word.  For like, an eternity!  And then she said:

"Oh, that's not AT ALL what I thought you were going to say!"

And I nearly died.  Or at least I nearly cried.  But then, another eternity later, she said:

"Oh, I mean....that's what I was HOPING you'd say.  I really like you, too"

And, so it began.  Twelve years later, I love her just as much as I did that day.  More, probably.  We've really grown up together.  We have so many shared experiences on which we can look back and laugh.  We have a few memories that make us cry too, but who doesn't?  And at least we've gone through the inevitable difficult things in life together.  We're lucky to have each other, and we're thankful for that.

We're looking forward to welcoming a child into our life, and bringing him or her up in a household full of love.  We want our child to see and know what a solid, honest, loving relationship looks like.  Our greatest hope is that he or she will grow up one day and find "the one,"  the way Amber and I found each other, all those years ago.

Then.  Our first picture together (1998).

Now.  Visiting Eckerd 10 yrs after graduation (2009).

{If this blog post was a movie, this song would play over the closing credits}


x's & o's,

Michelle

Pennyslavia

I started this blog to talk about our adoption process.  Then, we actually started our adoption process, and things began to happen. Then, I chickened out and didn't want to write about it anymore.

Fear of jinxing, my generally shy and private nature, an inability to put it all into words...pick your favorite excuse.  But yes, my faithful blog reader(s), the truth is....I have been holding out on you.  But a month has passed, and I'm ready to 'fess up....so hop in the garbage-eating deLorean with me, and let's Marty McFly it back in time...

[Insert wavy visual effect and bloop-bloop-bloop time travel music here]

August 5, 2010

The phone rang.  

The 1-800 number appeared on the caller id.  

My heart couldn't even skip a beat before my rational, analytical brain reminded me that the call was probably just another wrong number.  Someone calling for WaMu or MetLife again.  Some old dude in middle management with his phone on speaker, and a confused "Um....uhh....I think I have the wrong number....." in reply to my non-automated system "Hello?".  I'd been through this so many times already in the little more than a week we'd been on the books.

But, it's good for one to practice one's warm (but not pressuring), friendly (but not overbearing), excited (but not too excited), "Hello?".  So, I sighed, and picked up the phone, and tried with all my might to convey in that one syllable what a sweet, caring, open person I am.  Just in case Rick from Iowa, who was trying to find out about his policy deductible or his overdrawn account balance, cared.

But, it wasn't Rick.

Instead, a woman's voice said "Is this Michelle or Amber?"  

Or maybe she said, "Can I speak with Michelle or Amber?".  Honestly, I don't remember exactly.  Because at the time, all I could hear was the blood rushing to my head, as my heart made up for that almost-skipped beat by banging double-time, right out of my very chest.  

Despite all appearances, I actually am a rather tough cookie...good head on my shoulders, the kind of person you'd want around in a crisis.  I'm a nurse, for godsakes...it's a job requirement!  But there I stood, in the kitchen, hanging on to the counter for dear life with one hand, frantically grasping around with the other for the cheesy "What to Say When a 'Birthmother' Calls" sheet the agency had told us to tack to the fridge door.  All the while, only being able to mentally process the smallest bits of information.

Her name (and I only got that right on the second try!).

Pregnant.

Saw our profile online.

That's about all I got out of the first minute or so.  The "What to Say" sheet was well-meaning, but rendered completely useless in my trembling hands.

But then she started talking.  And slowly, I was able to breathe again.  And, I mean really...thank god for her, because I was a wreck there at the beginning.  I'm sure she was nervous, too.  She had to be....right?!  I mean, what a phone call to make!  All I had to do was answer it, and I could barely even do that!

But if she was nervous, she certainly didn't show it.  We talked for about a half an hour.  We talked about adoption, and the dumb sappy things other people say on their profiles.  We talked about openness, and what we both thought it might look like in real life.  We talked about the child she's parenting, and the one she's pregnant with now.  We talked about what she wanted in life for both of them.

In the end, I do think we hit it off.  I can say at least that I--for one--liked her!  She seemed smart, very analytical and sure of herself.  She was nice, and friendly, and had clearly done a lot of thinking and research about open adoption. All qualities I truly appreciate in a person.

She called back that evening, after her child was asleep, and spoke with Amber for nearly an hour.  Those who know Amber and I are not at all surprised that she doubles me in conversation length.  I am a woman of few (spoken) words.  Amber is a woman of many.  (One of many reasons that we make a great team!)  It seemed like they hit it off really well, also.  They talked about all sorts of things...family, college, travel, life in Atlanta.  I even heard them laughing!  

But, we haven't heard from her again since that evening.  

I still think about her sometimes though, and I can only imagine what she's going through as she works though making her decision...whatever it may be.  Maybe she's decided to parent.  Maybe she's chosen a couple other than us to parent her child.  Or maybe, life is just really complex when you're parenting a young child, carrying another, and making an adoption plan.  She still has a few months before her baby is born, and I imagine a decision as important as this isn't one that you rush.

So, we wait.  And we hope we hear from her again.  But, we try not to get caught up in it, because we knew from the beginning that this was going to be a process.  We prepared for the fact that there would be "contacts" before "matches", and that it's all a little like dating (which, unfortunately, neither of us knows much about!).  Maybe she's "the one,"  or maybe "the one" is still out there, and we just haven't met her yet.

Either way, our "What to Say" sheet now has "Pennyslavia" permanently scrawled across it in my shaky blue handwriting.  Apparently when you're that nervous and in shock, and you're trying (as all nerds like me do) to take notes, all spelling, phonics, and geography knowledge fly out the window, and that's how you think the name of the state between Ohio and New Jersey is spelled.

Wait....is that a good baby name?!

KIDDING, KIDDING!!

x's&o's,

Michelle

"Give Me the Beat, Boys & Free My Soul"

This weekend we went to a local amphitheatre to see a Jack Johnson concert.  It was such a perfectly relaxing and fun way to draw a busy summer to a close.

I would show you a picture, but the website said "no cameras" and I'm a pathological rule-follower, so I chickened out at the last minute, and didn't bring my camera in.  Of course, once we were inside, everyone else was taking pictures, and I instantly regretted leaving ours in the car.  Not enough to trudge fifteen minutes back through the puddles and mud to the car to get it, though.

So, in lieu of a picture, here's my artistic interpretation in colored pencil:

Before it started raining.

Music has always been a big part of both of our lives.

I grew up listening to my dad's old Bob Dylan, Eagles, and Simon & Garfunkel albums.  In high school, I used to make mix tapes with those songs (and a smattering of Pearl Jam, Indigo Girls, and Counting Crows thrown in) to play on the little tape player I carried around in my 1973 VW Beetle.

Amber remembers rocking out in the back seat of her mom's car, listening to David Bowie 8-tracks while they'd run errands together.  When she was old enough to drive herself, she used to sit in the parking lot of the community college where she was taking an early enrollment class, and blare Melissa Etheridge's "Yes I Am" album over and over again.

Throughout our relationship, music--especially live music--has continued to be important to our lives.  We like all sorts of stuff, but most of our favorites are singer-songwriters..."chicks with guitars,"  or "sensitive poet boys."  Amber's a little more rocking than I am.  She's a sucker for a good beat, and loves to drum along on the wheel as she drives.  I get sucked in by the meaning of the words.  All my personal mottos and mantras come from song lyrics.

In grad school, we spent most of our free time following the Indigo Girls to shows around the northeast.  Big amphitheatres, small club shows, benefit events, and festival concerts....we went to them all.  The Grateful Dead had "dead heads", Jimmy Buffett has "parrot heads,"  and for lack of a better term, I guess we were "indigo heads".

Their music carried me away from the stresses of a graduate program I hated.  Touring gave Amber and I the opportunity to spend hours on the road together, talking about life and love, and laughing about the fun experiences we were having each day.  We have so many great memories, and met so many wonderful people along the way.  We still laugh about standing in line for hours before shows, and having to run to Kmart to buy extra wool socks when we found out just how cold Somerset, MA is in the middle of winter!  But, being pressed up against the stage every night, surrounded by music, love, and friends made the cold early mornings, and the long late night drives completely worth it.

At an Indigo Girls concert in Albany, NY with some of our concert-going friends (2000).

View from the front row at a little club in Boston.

After grad school in New York, we came to Atlanta because we wanted to be in a big, diverse city with warm weather, and to be relatively close to both of our families.  But, honestly, the great music scene was a big draw for us too.  There are so many little hole-in-the-wall bars, small theaters, and "listening rooms" where you can hear great live music any day of the week.  We were lucky enough to see Atlanta natives, Sugarland, play one of their very first shows ever, and we watched them play at larger and larger venues around town as they started to make it big.

Sugarland returns to Eddie's Attic, in Decatur, GA, site of their first show

Now that we're older, have "real jobs", and generally are yawning and ready for bed between 10:00 and 11:00pm, we don't run all over the place to see concerts anymore.  We still enjoy the Indigo Girls, and try not to miss them whenever they are in town, but our days of touring are happy, but distant memories.  Our favorite "date night" activity now is a nice, relaxed concert...preferably one where we can sit down, have some wine and snacks, and be home in time not to regret it in the morning.  Jack Johnson was just that kind of show, and we're looking forward to seeing Brandi Carlile and the Avett Brothers at one of our favorite venues in September.

Although the way we see music has changed over the years, our love for the experience has not.  As we move into the "next phase" in our life, I'm looking forward to seeing music in a new way...through our child's eyes. We're looking forward to those lazy Sunday autumn afternoons when we can take our toddler (with proper ear protection, of course) to relax on a blanket with a picnic lunch, and listen to local bands playing at the Dogwood or Candler Park Festivals.  I can't wait to buy great children's music for our kid, and can already hear myself singing (loud and off-key, as per usual) to the indie rock and folk tunes of "Mary Had A Little Amp" in the car.  I hope that music will surround our child, and that he or she will grow up with music in his or her heart, the way Amber and I both have.

One (of many) of "our songs"....


x's&o's,
Michelle