Tears & Laughter

My life seems to be on the replay cycle right now.  I was reading back to last year’s posts at this time…. I certainly don’t need to write about my events of Thanksgiving week this year… they are EXACTLY the same as last year:  Larisa’s play, Stove Top Stuffing, and three or four hockey games for Austin.  Please see 2008 posts if you’re wanting photo proof of what will transpire in my life this week.

I also listened to Third Day’s song Merry Christmas about the orphan child who is not home for Christmas… and I cried…. again.  (For a good cry go here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rcPBA9-wyZE&feature=related ) I just don’t understand why we have to wait so long.  Or why Zaza has to wait so long for us to come and get her.  Distinctly I remember folding the damp dish towel after drying the Thanksgiving dishes and telling my mom and sister-in-law, Julie, that we were going to adopt.  That was 200SIX!  Three long years later, I never thought Zaza’s buttery yellow room and her curvy purple bed would still be vacant.  I realize that God’s timing is perfect and mine is not.  But it doesn’t bring me joy.

So, when the adoptive parent blues hit hard, I go to Bookman’s, my favorite used book store, and find adoption stories where moms and dads actually get to take home their child in the end of the book.  It makes me believe again.  There are happy endings.  Other mothers waited years and years and eventually hugged and kissed the child of their heart.  So last week I found and read this book:

I had half the book read before bedtime and finished the next morning.  I bonded with the author instantly as I read her prose.  She writes like I do… in incomplete sentences that drive English teachers CRAZY!  She used picture words to describe each and every one of the five senses from bitter tea to soft skin, hazy lighting and a hairy hand.  Her word choice inspired me to run to the computer and write, write, write.  She also had several funny, real-life experiences that Rick and I have actually had… like weighing our heads on the bathroom scale.  Wierd, I know.  But it made me feel less wierd, knowing someone else had done it too.  And her adoption story is very real.  I wanted to kick in some Russian teeth because of how she was treated.  I also longed to hold my little girl when she finally got to hold her little boy.  Needless to say, it was a good read with the happy ending I needed to push me through another month or two… or ten, God forbid.

Tags: adoption, adoptive parents, hockey, international adoption, Janis Cooke Newman, Merry Christmas, mom, motherhood, orphan, raising boys, StoveTop Stuffing, Thanksgiving, The Russian Word for Snow, Third Day, traditions