I'm going to let you in on a little secret...I don't like to shop.

There are many reasons for this. One being that I am not really into 'fashion'. There is just something about jeans and t-shirts that draw me in. Maybe it's because I grew up with three brothers, and as a result, fashion, make-up and hair was never a pressing issue in our family.

Except for the time that my oldest brother permed his hair. I will only defend him because it was the late 80's, and long, fluffy hair was considered "the in thing'. Luckily I was too young to pick up on that trend, so it doesn't really count anyway.

My other reason for disliking shopping is because...well, I have children. And because my children are not at the age where they can stay at home while I run errands, they must come with me. I emphasize the word must because they whine and complain the entire time.

That's just what happened today when we went to the mall to find some school shirts for Isaiah. Believe me when I say that if there is something I dislike more than shopping, it's shopping at the mall. It is the bane of my existence, but also something that must be dealt with at least twice a year.

So there we were walking in a straight line through the mall, like a mother duck and her chicks. Only, I don't recall ever hearing chicks whine like my kids do. And I'm pretty sure that said chicks don't crawl through the clothing racks, and swing from the bars as though it's their own personal gym, all the while knocking clothes off their hangers, and stressing the employees out.

You have no idea how many times I reminded them, through clenched teeth, to knock it off. But did it work? NO!

So we left the store, with a bag full of new shirts for Isaiah, and my blood pressure slightly higher than before. Then I did something very stupid, and I will blame it on the fact that my blood was not flowing properly, because I allowed Isaiah to carry this bag of new shirts. Of course, I was thinking that he was just trying to be polite, but I soon realized that was not the case. Caleb's high pitched screaming brought me to a halt, and when I turned around, I noticed that Isaiah was using the the bag to pummel his brother. UGH!

Again, I reminded them through clenched teeth, to knock it off. But did it work? NO! Do you want to know why? Because I was stupid enough to stop in one more store. You see, I am still in need of a dress for our court hearing in Russia, and I saw a really pretty dress hanging on a mannequin in the front window of a little shop. It was cute, inexpensive and would have worked perfectly, if only it was in my size. Which, as luck would have it, it wasn't. As I turned around to leave, I noticed Caleb checking out the mannequin in the front window and Isaiah, on the opposite side of the store, reaching his hands through electrical cords and wires for a pen that was wedged between the cash register and desk.

Honestly! This trip to the mall was becoming a nightmare, because I was now seen as one of those mothers that let their kids run wild and terrorize everything in their path.

They were out of control, and aside from doing something that nowadays could have Child Protective Services called on me, there wasn't much I could do. So I got down on their level, looked in their eyes and in a really low voice said: "you guys had better put your hands at your sides, shut your mouths and not make a peep until we get to the car".

I thought I had it all under control. Actually, I did, until we reached the escalator. Of course, to a perfect stranger my kids must have looked like angels as they walked with their hands at their sides and their mouths closed. And I'm pretty sure that the ladies who were behind us on the escalator thought Caleb was just adorable as he turned to smile his lady killer smile at them, right after being asked by me to please not sit on the escalator. But a split second after smiling at them, his foot slipped off the front of the step and he started to fall backward. Luckily, I caught his arm, and with a firm grip I spun him around just in time to get off the escalator and pull him to the side.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure Caleb won those ladies over with his smile, and I'm sure they probably thought he was Mister Innocent, because, as they walked past me one of the ladies said "you don't need to be like that with him".

Never mind the fact that my kids have just spent the last hour whining, complaining, swinging, screaming, hitting, crawling, fighting, playing with mannequins and undoing a store's entire electrical system.

No. Forget about all that.

Let's not even consider the fact that I am at my wits end and about ready to pull my hair out because my children, God bless them, are driving me insane.

No, let's focus on the mom who, in an effort to keep her child from falling on sharp, metal steps, reaches out and grabs his arm.

Yeah, that's the ticket.

It's a good thing she kept walking too, because I was in no mood to deal with her opinions, and if given more time, I would have happily let her know it.

And then I realized that I was now seen as one of those mothers who overreact and get upset over nothing.

What am I to do?

Fist things first, I am going to have a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Then, I am going to start the fourth book in the Twilight series. And if I'm still not feeling better, I am going to lock my children in their room until summer is over.

Oh, but that poses a problem because then I would be seen as one of those mothers, and I really don't want to be that.

It's hard to believe that summer break is coming to an end. It feels like it was just yesterday that Isaiah climbed down the steps of the big yellow bus, and leaped into the air, yelling "it's summertime, woohoo!"

In anticipation of our summer break, I started making a mental list of all the day trips that the boys and I would take. Included in that list were places like Eagle Island State Park's water slides, playing along the banks of the Payette River, and bike rides to the market to get Icee's. Oh, and camping...lots and lots of camping. But somehow, time got away from me and I realized that those plans didn't quite pan out.

While our summer seemed very busy, we never did accomplish much on my mental list. At first I felt really bad, thinking that I just gypped my kids out of what could have been a fun filled summer. But as I scrolled through the pictures we took over the past few months, I realized that even though we didn't go somewhere new everyday, the boys still had a fun, and more importantly, relaxing summer...

Exploring


Watching movies with the neighbors in our backyard



Doing arts and crafts


Playing on the slip n slide


Swimming



And hanging out with their cousins



I think that's enough fun for one summer, and I'm pretty sure these boys...



aren't complaining.

It's late. For me at least.

I should really be in bed, and I was, but something has me slightly bothered. Actually, it is a passage from a book that I was reading just before I turned out my light that doesn't so much bother me as much as it confirms what I have been feeling, or sensing, lately.

Let me just rewind a bit.

A year and a half ago Adam went on a missions trip to Peru. In the weeks leading up to his trip, he was experiencing some really strange, off the wall behaviors coming from complete strangers, in the way of stare-downs and threats. For those of you who know Adam, you know that he is not the type of person to incite this type of reaction. He is a very quiet, mellow, stick to himself kind of guy. So you can imagine how discouraged he was after experiencing two very uncomfortable situations within a few days of each other. It was really bizarre and had us wondering what was going on.

Now, fast forward to this past week.

I don't know how else to explain how we have been feeling, except to say that everything just feels off. Nothing is going quite right and it's causing a lot of frustration and tension. And to make matters worse things keep breaking in our house, and are doing so in the most ridiculous ways. And yes, I understand that we all have days like that. It's a fact of life, and something, that as a mother, I am very used to. But this is different. This is burdensome, heavy and making us weary.

But it occurred to me yesterday, as I looked at the damage done to Adam's high end mountain bike - his race bike - that something else is going on here. It's not just bad luck, or a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And so tonight, as I was reading a book called Same Kind of Different As Me, by Ron Hall, Denver Moore with Lynn Vincent, I found these words underlined:

The work Miss Debbie is doin at the mission is very important. She is becomin precious to God. When you is precious to God, you become important to Satan.

And that is what Adam and I are right now...important to Satan.

And do you know why? Because we have been called by God to adopt our daughter. The barriers of land and sea, of Russia's government and our finances are not going to keep us from her. And although Satan knows that, he is still working hard to wear us down and discourage us. And I will admit that he has been pretty successful up until now. But not anymore, and so I am going to write him a goodbye letter.

Dear Satan,
I'll admit that you are pretty tricky, but I'm on to your game now and wanted to let you know that you are no longer welcome here. You do not have a place in this adoption, nor in our home or lives, and I will no longer allow you to have a foothold on our lives by discouraging us through your constant deception. If you have a problem with that, please direct your questions to the Lord, as I will have nothing to do with you from here on out.

Amen.

Okay, I can go to bed now.

Goodnight.

Did you know that adoption paperwork expires after 1 year?

Let me correct myself, because I can only speak for the requirements in the Russia program. But, yes, if you are adopting from Russia, then expect that you will have to update your paperwork at 1 year...or 12 months...or 365 days, depending on how you prefer to keep track of time.

And believe me, it has a tendency to creep up on you and scare you silly. I liken it to the times that I am walking through the house, completely unaware of anything going on around me, when Isaiah jumps out from behind a corner and scares the bejeezers out of me. My heart skips a beat and then, as though making up for lost time, it goes into overdrive, thumping in my ears and nearly coming out of my chest...and then I get mad.

I really don't like surprises.

The whole idea about me having to redo paperwork certainly surprised me, not because I was unaware that we even needed to do it at all, but because I completely lost track of time.

But that's okay, because our case worker at WACAP has done a fantastic job of keeping us up to date and informed about everything that needs to be done. In fact, she is the brains behind this whole operation...I just fill out the paperwork when told to do so.

And that is exactly what I'm doing right now...filling out paperwork.

Luckily our homestudy has been updated, and it didn't take too much on my part aside from confirming some financial information. I have also started working on the first segment of our dossier, which expires in September. All we need to do is print these documents, sign them and have them notarized, so they should also be relatively easy.

But that's not the part that makes my heart skip a beat. No, that's coming in November when the second segment of our dossier expires and I have to contact our postmaster and have him sign this document again. And while it really isn't that big of a deal, it still puts a bad taste in my mouth every time I think about the frustration it caused me last year.

But on the bright side, I have another month or two before I have to deal with that one, so at least there aren't any surprises there. And in the words of Martha Stewart, that's a good thing.

Do you remember how I mentioned in my last post that I painted my living room wall, brown? Well, I'm here to tell you that I absolutely love the color. It has completely changed the look and feel of our living room. There's just one little problem that I have with it....It makes me crave chocolate in a crazy way.

You see, the color is lighter than a Hershey's bar, but darker than a Wendy's Frosty. Both of which I love, have a hard time turning down, and therefore, should never cross paths. Unfortunately they did more than cross paths, they collided on my living room wall, and now my thoughts are consumed by chocolate.

Chocolate chip cookies, fudge brownies, chocolate cheesecake and most of all....

Rocky Road Ice Cream


I bought the ice cream because the temptation to lick my wall was overwhelming me. I was in heaven as I took those first few licks of my ice cream. The creamy chocolate and soft marshmallows were almost more than I could bear, and then I tasted that first nut and I came crashing back to earth.

Nut. Nutty. Nuttiness.

And suddenly, all these visions came flooding into my head; Visions of a very awkward, (nutty, if you will), situation that occurred on the day that we painted our living room wall. If you read my last post, you will know that this was also the day that we sold our truck.

I saw everything clearly. Our furniture was pulled into the center of the living room. Caleb was standing on the ladder, pretending to be a king, and our front door was slightly ajar. And then I heard the man who was test driving our truck knock gently on the door. But before Adam and I had the chance to say or do anything, Caleb motioned to the man from the top of the ladder, and said in a commanding voice, "come in princess."

Then I heard the man laugh nervously and say, "Who me, a princess?"

And then I think I said something like, "I don't know whose child that is, on account of, I don't really live here. I'm just helping this nutty family paint a wall."

And then I grabbed my bag of chocolate chips and ran away.

Don't you just love how chocolate seems to make everything right?

No, my pockets aren't really full of change. That was just a metaphor for what has been going on in my life the last couple of days, because we have been experiencing some change. But, the tomato part is true. Our vines are so full of tomatoes right now, that I am having a hard time keeping up with them. In fact, I think it's safe to say that both change and tomatoes have taken over my life.

Let me first start with change.

I don't like change, it really cramps my style. But we were thrown into it the other day when Adam's truck broke down. It wasn't anything major, but it was enough to make us question if it's worth keeping and fixing the problems as they come - and they will come, oh yes, they will come, right smack dab in the middle of the busiest intersection in Boise - or sell it and get a newer vehicle that is more reliable.

So we thought about it and decided to put it on craigslist for a day or two and if it didn't sell then we would keep it and deal with the issues as they came. Here's the truck:



Pretty isn't it? Apparently everyone else thought so too! Within minutes we had 4 people who were very interested in it. The very next day a man drove 2 1/2 hours to see it, and then bought it. And now suddenly I have decided that I want the truck back. After all, it's been a part of my life for 11 years. I mean, I have some great memories of that truck. None of which have to do with the fact that it couldn't go faster than 20 mph uphill, or that it would randomly squeak when accelerating out of first gear. No, that's not anything I want to remember, but I still really miss it.

To make matters worse, the very same day that out truck drove out of the garage, never to be seen again, we just so happened to change to color of our living room wall from beige to brown. And now, the world as I know it is completely different. Well, okay, not my world, but my living room wall is. Don't get me wrong, I love, love, love the color. My brother-in-law, John,at Drakes Paint picked it out for me and it is beautiful. It has completely changed the look and feel of our living room, in a very good way. But, it is change nonetheless, and therefore, something that I need to get used to.

It's okay though, because I have something to keep my mind off of all that change, and it has come in the form of tomatoes.



In the last two days we have had 19 tomatoes ripen, leaving me scrambling to find ways to consume them. It's all good though, because I know exactly how to deal with an overabundance of tomatoes...just freeze them.

Here's how you do it:

Place whole tomatoes in near boiling water.

Keep in water until the skin starts to split, about 60 seconds.

Remove from water with a slotted spoon, and plunge into a large bowl of ice water, for about 1 minute. This stops the tomatoes from cooking any further.



Peel the skins off of the tomatoes, like this:



Aren't they pretty?



Now, just cut them in half, scoop out the seeds, and chop 'em up.

Place chopped tomatoes in a colander to let the extra juice drain while you prepare your freezer bags/containers. **I have found that quart sized bags work perfect for everyday cooking, and are easier to work with, but use what works best for you**

Spoon tomatoes into bags/containers, squeeze out the air, and then freeze.

It's easy as pie. And I can't tell you how much better it makes me feel knowing that although everything else is changing around me, I can still count on the fact that I will have 20 more tomatoes waiting to be picked tomorrow morning. I can't help it, it's my only constant in an inconsistent world.

We are back from our whirlwind trip to visit our family in Oregon, and now I can finally take a breath. We had a great time, and the boys loved hanging out with all of their cousins, but unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

Before they did though, I had the chance to go out to lunch with my mom. It was just me and my mom. There were no children to distract me by blowing bubbles in their drinks. No children to make rude, embarrassing noises. And no children to crawl under the table searching for the leftovers of previous customers.

Nope, those children were left with my step-dad. My unsuspecting step-dad.

So there we sat, my mom and I, on the Wisteria covered patio at the Bella Union restaurant, in beautiful Jacksonville, Oregon. It was so nice, so peaceful and so relaxing, that it became shockingly obvious that I have become far removed from the quiet, adult settings in life. They just don't exist in my world, and because of that, I don't know how to deal with them when the sneak up on me.

For one thing, I am not used to carrying on a uninterrupted conversation without my eye twitching nervously. What makes it even worse though, is that I have to fight the uncontrollable urge to ask the adult I'm speaking with if they want a juice pouch, or need to go potty.

It's pretty bad, but I can't help it. I'm a mother. A mother of young, accident prone children.

Where was I going with this? Oh yes, adoption.

Believe it or not, there is a purpose to this post!

Luckily, our conversation was smooth because not only did it keep my mind off of the fact that I am very inadequate in this area of life, but it saved my mom from some serious embarrassment at the hands of her adult daughter.

Anyway, the subject of adoption came up and I was telling my mom about how things were going and that we have been waiting for over nine months. Then she looked at me and said, "hmmm, it seems like it's been longer than that."

So I explained to her what I am going to explain to you, because I can see how it can be a little confusing.

When I talk about our wait times, I am referring to the date that we were officially put on the waiting list in Russia. This occurred on October 27, 2008, which, to date, puts us at over nine months of waiting. However, before we could be put on the waiting list, we had to complete a homestudy, and upon acceptance of that, we had to complete our dossier.

So yes, this adoption process has taken longer than nine months. In fact, we started our paperwork in early June of last year, which, if you think about it, really puts us at 14 months of waiting.

14 months of waiting...hmmm. Now that I think about it, if I had carried a baby in my womb, that baby would be 5 months old by now. It's a nice thought - a really nice thought - but certainly not the way I look at it. I'm in it for the long haul. In fact, at this point, I'm aiming more for the gestation time of a whale, or worse yet, an elephant, by the time this adoption is completed.





Oh dear!