My Overthinking

Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption

Introducing Oliver and Clawdia

The wait is over. There are two new teeny furry beasts in our home. And, while I know that baby anythings (including coke cans) are cute, these little ones are beyond adorable.

We’re pretty much all obsessed with them (them being Oliver and his teeny twin sister Clawdia). If you don’t believe me, check out the feline fortress Evan created this week in preparation, look at Ashlyn’s 150+ pictures she’s taken of them already, or ask the family we got them from who we’re quite sure are very happy to not have a wannabe feline attachment therapist texting them every other day since these babies were born 2 months ago. (Yes, I apologized to her a few times…in between messages…and gave her family gifts as peace offerings.)

It’s gonna be a great summer as hearts here heal and we laugh at a whole lot of kit kat shenanigans.

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To my husband on Father’s Day 2017

Dear husband,

It’s Father’s Day. The kids made you cards. Evan complained that Ashlyn’s once again was better than everyone else’s and made theirs looked like garbage. I made you blueberry pancakes for breakfast but had to make the kids all chocolate chip ones because they didn’t want blueberries and it look so long that I barely got to sit down before kids were finished and forgetting to clear their plates. We were a few minutes late to church, and the kids fussed afterwards about avoiding any “conversation traps” so they could get home to argue over…I mean admire…the new kittens. Our picnic was moved inside given that it was so hot and our dining room was about 5 degrees cooler. The food was awesome though; I hardly minded Lydia crying over not having enough alone time with the kittens.

I hope you enjoyed your day, your perfectly imperfect Father’s Day with two teeny kittens frolicking in the sunroom and 4 not-so-teeny kids, 1/2 of whom give me lip about taking their picture. It was good, not because of any real significant moments but because of lots of insignificant ones. That’s kind of where most of the good stuff seems to be anyway.

I’m not going to tell you you’re the best father in the world; I wouldn’t even know how that role is measured. But, I will tell you you’re the best father for these four. Lydia said whenever she wants to wrestle, you wrestle her. Drew said whenever he wants to go to Goodwill to find something for a project or wants to make something and needs your help, you make time for him. Ashlyn said that whenever one of them isn’t happy, you cheer them up. Evan said that you agreed to new kitties—which I interpret as even though you weren’t thrilled about the responsibility and commitment of new kittens, you said yes because you knew it was what he needed. You may not be the best father in the world; I don’t know what that means and who would want that title anyway? You, my dear, are the father they need. You are the father I need to be by my side. And, as Lydia worded it, “I love you more than any father in the world.”

Thanks for loving them and loving me everyday in spite of days that never seem to go as planned and a little poo outside the litter box…metaphorically speaking, of course…

 

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On this day

On this day 1 year ago, we were cleaning and sorting and folding size 8 boys clothes. We were texting two of our closest friends with lots of encouragement and lots of emojis because they were doing the same. We were stocking our frig with hotdogs and laughing at the fact that we were told there was no need for bitter melon. We were keeping our then 10-year-old son up late to head out to the airport where we stood with other excited families. On this day 1 year ago, we brought home the little man who would call us Āyí and ShūShu for a while.

You know the story after that. You know how our friends messaged me and asked more questions because her sister had seen my Facebook posts and my blog posts and her heart was nudged. You know how they ended up buying plane tickets with their son Josiah and came for a weekend visit. You know how they decided this was their boy.

One year later, on this day, this boy is no longer an orphan; he is theirs.



Today, we celebrate. Today is a good day.

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Hand off

It’s time to do this.

When we met him at the Philadelphia airport last summer, we took off running. Those who had run for him before us had done their part, but they had gone as far as they could go. He needed someone else for the next leg of the race. All 6 of us were in. We gave him all we could, running harder than all of us thought we were able to do, sharing the task at hand, holding each other up. We pressed on when it hurt because we knew we were the sprinters. That was our job on the team. And, we knew that he was worth it.

You saw us running from the sidelines and cheered us on. Then something changed. You stopped routing for us from the sidelines and joined us.

For a while, we ran side-by-side, knowing that a transition was coming. In anticipation, our sprint started slowing down and your pace picked up. At times it felt like we both had our hands on the baton. At this point though, you’re running so hard that we can’t keep up—which is exactly how it should be.

With great satisfaction in the race we have run, we now hand off the baton to you. It’s all yours to run with. Soon, your driving sprint can slow down and you can settle in at a different pace, the pace you can run for the rest of the race.

Know that we couldn’t be happier that you’re the ones who are taking this marathon over for the long haul. And, know that we are happy to join Team Aaron’s cheering section on the sidelines.

We love you and can’t wait to see our friend become your son.

On Monday afternoon at 2:30pm local time, they will receive him. We will set our alarms Sunday night at 2:30am to stand with them.

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