Chilly Feet

Not literally (although I did think I had frostbitten toes after my first bike ride of the season this past weekend).

But freaked-out-edly.

Me, a little bit. I look at beau in his crib and he is so happy, and he really is just a fabulous little two-year-old pudding, the best and most amazing little guy, and the thing is, he is NOT going to like this. Not at first, anyway. Gertie was a charming and happy flirtacious little 20-month-old when beau popped her bubble, and now she's difficult kid supremo numero uno. her first reaction to anything is nearly always no, I don't wanna, you can't make me. I mean, that's probably a personality defect, but who knows?

So I'm a little but going hey, why are we thinking about rocking the boat here?
Poptart says, isn't this going a little fast? (He says this as he contemplates the upcoming rash of large fees.) I say, it will slow down a LOT once it's started. He says well, i maybe need to have it slow down a bit now. We are going away together, just the two of us, this weekend (second time since the advent of Beau! And I could probably count the times since Bart showed up on one hand...maybe two.) Let's sit and talk.

So we will. And the minute I said of course, let's, things relaxed. We are still having meeting #1 (the introductory meeting) with the social worker tomorrow am. I think that will get us talking. Otherwise we tend to do more than we talk..and if he doesn't want to address a subject I really hate bringing it up, and he avoids the strangest things (witness the baseball/soccer incident). I know what he means, though--it's just being so incredibly exhausted and not wanting to DEAL.

In other news, the reason we're away is a writing conference for me. I have a few meetings with magazine editors--one in particular that I REALLY want to write for--that I'm really excited about. I should be prepping. I need brilliant pitch ideas, and I need 'em now!

Process Angst Continues

Today I had an actual email exhange with an actial agency representative that was both very helpful and somewhat disappointing. I emailed her to get a password to review their "waiting children", knowing that I am so far from adopting existing "waiting child" that I might as well be on mars. I was just trying to get a sense of who was waiting, I guess. And she very kindly let me do just that--BUT rained on my parade a bit. "Waiting children" with minor special needs are very hot with parents who just want to speed up the process, is essentially what she said, and especially girls, and if I really want to adopt a child who might not otherwise be adopted we should adopt...a boy.

Now, I think I'm open to more special needs than she probably thought. But the thing is, I really DO want a girl. I just DO!

So anyway, the big question remains but I think it's on its way to being answered: "Sign with" an agency and wait for a referral or surf while doing paperwork on one's own. I don't think I can cope with that. Too much surfing, too much riding on me, nobody in my court and NO HELP WITH THE PAPERWORK!

Looking, now, while still really making this decision if I'm honest, for an agency that 1) lets one consider sn kids from different countries at the same time, 2) refers rather than putting them up on a list and 3) gets lots and lots of referrals from China, still my first love, so much so that I might abandon 1 and just roll with it.

First Declaration of Public Intent

So that last post--my first here in a while--was my first public announcement that we're thinking about adopting #4. It's a crazy idea, one that could only be the product of one of the inmates, and cooler heads may prevail--which is, in part, why I'm blogging about it here. I'm not sure we have any cooler heads in our household. Poptart has admitted to both envying friends with four kids and feeling too old to do the pregnancy/baby thing again, and has leapt to my defense when I wondered aloud if my motives were crappy--want another kid, don't want to be pregnant, don't want to give birth, nurse, get up every two hours--so what, am I kid shopping, I asked? Saying no, Let my kid spend the first nine months of her life crying in a crib, no warm breast, no one to do for her everything I did for mine? Just for my convenience?

No, he snapped, that's going to happen anyway. The point is to help--to get one more kid out of that situation. But if the countries Americans adopt from each offer a quota of babies, am I being selfish to take one when lots of other people want a child to raise? Presumabley, eventually, it's one more. I guess.

So he may not meet the cooler head criterion. Here's what there is to know about us, I guess: I like change. I like adventure, new things, new schools, new jobs, new faces. Risk. I went to six schools before sixth grade. He grew up entirely in the same house his mother still lives in.

But he married me. And he never, ever says no to a crazy scheme. He does ask all the questions I don't want to ask because I'm all over enthusiastic and just want to do it--buy the house, get the dog, hire the contractor, paint the walls--now. He's the crazy scheme moderator.

And I know he wants another kid. If I wanted to get pregnant he'd put aside his reservations in a heartbeat. But that's not the adventure I want to have, at this point.

I think we're going to do this. I've always thought we would do this. And now--we'll regret it if we don't do it. I'm not without some fears that we'll regret it if we do...is anyone? But he's on Beauregard wake-up duty and he's been up at five everynight this week, with some exciting three o'clock calls too--so I think we'll fill out the "which country should we choose" questionaires a little later in the week.