time for updates

Well, the past several months have flown by. I can now report that we have not one but two little girls headed our way. Hanan, 6, and Danawit, 11. Our case was filed in Ethiopian court on Aug 26th. So now we wait for courts to begin viewing cases in October. Our house is in total disarray, as new windows were installed. Long term, this will be great for energy use but in the short term, everything had to be moved out of the way in my room. And my room is where things tend to accumulate, from rosters to maps, to lists of school supplies, photos, and letters I can't bear to toss. So the focus for the next few weeks is cleaning, reducing clutter, and getting this little house ready for two more girls!

Winter Weariness

In the past few weeks, I've been working extra shifts as a way of saving for the adoption. I also continue to co-facilitate a bereavement group for parents who have lost infants. I am busy at work and overdue for writing the newsletter for Open Arms. I have been working out twice a week, which often leaves me overstimulated and sleepless. It isn't really any wonder that I feel run down. However, it is frustrating to know I could be far more productive, if only my body was better rested. My house looks like it is run by Muppets. This despite many hours of cleaning I put in over the weekend. While I accomplished things like sorting out all the clothes and boxing lots of things the girls have outgrown (Nur is now the size Mareshet was when she arrived!) these tasks are largely invisible or contributed to the clutter of the hallway. The girls sorted through their stuffed animals and made two bags of toys to give away, either to the "new girl" or other kids. I dutifully made two dozen cupcakes for the celebration at the Ethiopian Cultural Center, and cleaned up. However, that did nothing for the overall State of my kitchen. I suppose I just heave a big sigh, and set out on another Monday, in the hopes my blues will lift. The one household innovation I can look at with pride is the creation of a communication board in the kitchen. Here it is, as evidence that I have not been slacking too hard.

Blue Marble

I am sitting with a cup of tea and a house so silent I can hear the bunnies chewing. Yesterday I dropped the girls off with my mother, after meeting her halfway. They will spend a couple of days with her for the school break. I am thankful for the child-less time, as it gave the the chance to stay up until 2am at a Somali wedding last night, sleep in until 12:30pm today, and muck out the chicken coops and other dreaded chores. My yard labors treated me to an amazing view of a golden, full moon rising.

Seeing the moon's face reminded me of an interview I heard on NPR with a Muslima astronaut, Anousheh Ansari. She said that the greatest moment of her space travel was looking at Earth, shining and blue. What's amazing is that almost every astronaut will give the same answer... something about seeing Earth from a distance provides context for how small and precious and fragile we all are.

Today, looking at the moon, I am reminded of this and wonder at my life. I rush around all day, cleaning, typing, working... and in the big picture it means nothing. I marvel that I am conscious, and that my love for my children can be so deep. It is so implausible that my body lives and works to love them, and meanwhile the cosmos is indifferent to this love. Most of the time, I feel like my labors are fruitful-- something about looking over to the moon makes me realize I cannot take myself so seriously.

A Day in the Life

Monday: I took the day off so I could help in the kindergarten classroom. Witnessed 60 kids pounding nails into wood with gusto. Had lunch in the cafeteria with Nur. Noted all the staff I should make cupcakes for. Ducked out before recess, fed chickens, loaded some laundry, went to Costco to buy the doll for $19.99 that is identical in every way to the one Mareshet wants that is $95. Stashed it in the back of my closet to wrap for her birthday. Booked ice skating party, and ordered invitations online. Tried to figure out eBay; gave up. Did two more loads of laundry. Went to Target, bought paper bags, art supplies for holiday gifts. Realized I had to get back to pick up kids. Took them to ballet. Stalked my doctor's office for news of the adoption referral letter. Left a thank-you gift in the hopes it will grease the letter along. Picked up some books for emerging readers. Took kids to U bookstore, desperately seeking the"right" 2011 planner. Bumped into my student; realized I haven't done her evaluation yet. Drove home the long way to see the lights on Candycane Lane and the "crazy" bedecked house by the mosque. Got lost. Arrived home to make fish sticks. Helped kids distracted by glitter glue to focus on homework. Brushed three sets of teeth. Listened to new stories read by both girls. Yelled at them to stop whispering and go to sleep. Cleaned rabbit cage and went outside in dark to put the chickens in the coop. Went through my receipts. Found a lost doll shoe. Realized my bed wasn't made. Reluctantly dredged my sheets out of the dryer, made my only Salat prayer of the day, and crashed into bed.

A Child Waits

World AIDS Day Dinner

Please join us on Dec 1, World AIDS Day, for a dinner celebrating the lives of loved ones lost to HIV disease, AND the joy of a possible adoption. For every HIV positive child adopted, another one can other one can take her place and receive lifesaving treatment. We are hoping to bring home another little girl in 2011, and you can be part of it. Drop in between 5:30 and 8:30pm, Wednesday Dec 1, for a delicious Ethiopian feast. We are your hostesses, as you sample an assortment of meat or veggie dishes straight from Ethiopia. Assimba restaurant is located at the corner of MLK and Cherry St. (2722 E Cherry St, Seattle 98122). Bring your family and friends. Whatever we collect at the end of the night pays for dinner and with any luck... plane tickets. Pick up a red ribbon, sign a card to your legislator, or just groove to the Ethiopian music. Can't wait to see you!

Truth Pandemic

Truth Pandemic