Dear Ryann

Hello readers. As you've probably guessed, the adoption opportunity we were pursuing in Chicago has come to a close. There are a lot of unanswered questions and we are struggling to gain closure. All I can say is that the situation got messy and hazy, and in the end, I believe the birth mother just gave up and allowed life to take over. It's the sad reality of a life in poverty. And I wish it weren't so.

Joel and I are doing well despite it all. Although deeply saddened...for us, for the birth mother, for the child...we know it is time to move on and pursue other opportunities. Time will tell when those "other opportunities" will arise. Please continue to pray for us as we wait. Until then, we will seek closure on the last three months in any way we know how. For me it is to write a letter to the baby we thought would be ours. A little girl named, Ryann.

Dear Ryann,

Over the last three months, I have had the honor of getting to know your mother, learning about your strong-willed in-utero personality, dreaming about you, praying for you, and picturing what it would be like to have you as my daughter. To rock you to sleep, to feed you, hold you, and protect you. To give you a life full of love, laughter, and opportunity. But it wasn't meant to be.

Your mother and father are good people. But they have tough lives. I worry that they may not be able to provide for you and your siblings. However, knowing that you will not be separated from them brings me great comfort. They are your flesh and blood and they love you dearly. They are your connection to your roots and your past. A history we would not have been able to provide. And I am thankful you will now have that.

I have had your ultrasound picture pinned up in the kitchen for a couple of months now. While I know the opportunity to adopt you into our family has come to a close, I can't seem to take it down.  It's a reminder to pray for you daily and to keep hoping that you are safe and well. Your chubby little fist made me laugh from the first day I saw it. I imagined you as a feisty little toddler running around our house someday, and it made me smile.  You would have fit in perfectly with all the ladies in my family!  But more importantly, that tightly clenched fist assured me that God created a fight in you...a fight that will hopefully drive you to love deeply, dream wildly, and never let anyone take advantage of you. After all, you are a precious daughter of God no matter who raises you here on earth. I pray you will always know His great love for you.

And even though I will never get to call you "daughter", myself, I will always carry you with me in my heart.

Yours truly,
Holly

"I will be a Father to you, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty."
-2 Corinthians 6:18

Foundation

I had a dream last night. We were at church and there was a video playing, highlighting a group of young African children that we'd be supporting this holiday season. As I was walking out of the sanctuary, I noticed one of these children was hanging onto my arm. A little boy about four years old. I was swinging him along, playfully, as we walked through the atrium. He was wearing blue shorts and a green V-neck sweater...what most school children in Kenya wear. He was telling me a little bit about his life. He said he lived at Foundation Children's Center (or was it Foundation Children's Home?). I just know he called it Foundation. I remember my heart being pulled so strongly to him, knowing that I could love him as my own...that I wanted to love him as my own. And at one point I bent over to look at him and asked enthusiastically, "do you want to be adopted?!" I don't remember exactly what he said. But I know there was a smile. And I know that that's exactly what he wanted. To be adopted. And I knew I could do that.

I don't know what this dream means. Probably nothing. But it's been haunting me since I woke up this morning. I even Googled Foundation Children's Center. It turned up a lot of Children's Foundations and "such-and-such" Foundation for Children, etc. But nothing that quite fit. It's silly, I know. But he was so sweet. And it seemed so right. I guess I'm just longing to be a parent. And more than that, to make a difference in a child's life. I felt like I could make a difference in his. And for the brief moments I spent with him in my dream, the world made sense and my heart was full.

Since my dream, the word "foundation" keeps repeating in my head. Probably a hangover of sorts from my Google searches this morning. But then I came across the verse, below, in a fellow blogger's post (thanks, Jacob!). It's John 17:24. In the verse before it, we read that the Father has loved us, just as He has loved Jesus. And if this is true, then according to verse 24 we were loved before the foundation of the world...before it was ever even created. Before we were thrown into this seemingly chaotic thing called life. It's today's reminder that the God of the universe loves me. That He knows and cares how our adoption story will turn out. Because he crafted it before we ever came to be.

"Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world."
-John 17:24 ESV

The Faith of Friends

When Joel and I were in Kenya this past summer, we had the privilege of attending a worship service at a downtown Nairobi church plant. We had been there before and had loved the vibrancy of both the music and the preaching. This time was no different. There's just something profound about worshiping your God half way around the world, in both English and Swahili, with people you've never met yet share a deep spiritual bond with. I don't think I'll ever tire of it. And if I do, please...someone...slap me. Because it's beautiful and awe-inspiring and makes me want to throw my arms around the world (shout-out to my fellow U2 fans!).

The sermon that day was about Jesus healing the paralytic. You know the one where the four friends carry their paralyzed buddy to a house where Jesus was chillin', doin his thang...healing, teaching and putting the nay-sayers in their places (I seriously love this guy's style). The friends arrive with their buddy on a stretcher only to be blocked by the crowd. Instead of waiting in line, or turning around to go home, these friends managed to climb to the roof of the house, remove the covering over the atrium ceiling, and lower their paralyzed buddy down to Jesus. Upon seeing the shear determination and faith of these friends, Jesus forgave the paralytic of his sins and healed him.

Whenever I've read this passage in the past, I have always focused on the miraculous healing of the paralyzed man and the myriad of emotions he must have felt when he rolled up his mat and walked home. Seldom did I dwell on the role of the friends. But that Sunday in Nairobi, the pastor enthusiastically reminded us that it was the faith of the friends that led to this man's healing. It was their compassion, their perseverance, their love for their suffering friend. But ultimately it was their faith in Jesus. They so deeply believed he could make a difference in this man's life that they scaled the walls and ripped off a roof just to be seen. The paralytic in this story does and says nothing. Nothing! It was not by his faith that Jesus took notice and acted. It was by the faith of his friends. Ah-mazing. Needless to say, I wept through the last 15 minutes of that service. At least. I was so starkly confronted by the fact I have an obligation as a Christ follower that goes beyond understanding: To pray for my friends and loved ones in their times of need, to act boldly on their behalves. And to do so even when especially when I know they are doing nothing to help their own situations. I knew I had failed miserably at this task. I knew I had given up on certain people or situations because I didn't see God intervening in the way I thought He should. It was a defining moment for me.

Fast forward to this past Sunday at my in-laws' church. Different location (by several thousand miles). Different pastor (by about 100 pounds and 10 shades of skin color). Same passage from the Bible. Same basic message. This time I fought back tears because I am the paralyzed friend on the stretcher. I am the one who's grown tired of praying for the same thing day after day. But you, my dear friends and family members. You are the ones carrying me to the roof and lowering me to the feet of Jesus. You are the ones holding me up with compassion, with perseverance, and with faith. And it's because of you this journey through infertility and adoption hasn't crushed my spirit and left me hopeless.

But since they found no way to carry him in because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and let him down on the stretcher through the roof tiles right in front of Jesus. When Jesus saw their faith he said, “Friend, your sins are forgiven.”
-Luke 5:19-20

Silence

To be a prospective adoptive parent is to feel lost. Uncertain. In the dark. To be a prospective adoptive parent is to be last. Anxious. Always fearing the worst. I've quickly learned these things in the last five and half weeks, but especially in the last 24 hours. Sure, part of the reason is that I spend far too much time inside my own head. But the other part I know is that this is simply the nature of being on an adoption journey rollercoaster.

In a nutshell, I tried calling the birth mother yesterday to see how her final doctor appointment went. On the other end all I heard was, "the code or number you have dialed is incorrect." Fear and panic struck my heart. Her social worker cannot reach her either. It is likely she simply ran out of money to pay her phone bill. But no one is answering the door at her home, either. We are told it is not uncommon for adoptive mothers to fall out of communication from time to time. And I am once again reminded of the instability of life outside the comfort of mine.

And so here I am. Worrying. Again. I want so desperately to hear something from the birth mother...to find her somehow...to know she's ok. My frail humanity despises this kind of silence. This lack of control. Why? Because it is in this uncontrolled silence where every fear and doubt comes creeping in. Where every worst case scenario has room to play out. And they do. Over and over again.

While I have been saying all along that I am holding this adoption loosely, I have come to realize that there's really no good way to do that. How do you hold a potential daughter's life loosely? How do you not imagine the next days and years of your life with this precious little one in your care? How do you not put the ultrasound photo on your fridge, when it's the only visual reminder that you may have a baby soon? To hold an adoption loosely requires the heart of a robot. I am convinced.

Alas, while I do hope that tomorrow's news will leave me laughing at today's melodrama, there's no way to be certain. Of only one thing I can truly be certain: That God is sovereign. He can trump all fears and doubts if I let Him. And He is not done with this story. Yes. I am certain of that...

"To be certain of God means that we are uncertain in all our ways, not knowing what tomorrow may bring. This is generally expressed with a sigh of sadness, but it should be an expression of breathless expectation."
-Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

Be Counted in Their Legacy

Well, we're only eight days away from baby girl's due date. I laugh at my own use of "only"...silly me. Because "only eight days" feels like 8,000 years. How do pregnant women do this for nine months?! No seriously...how.

As I wait, I've enjoyed spending time in other blogs. I've laughed, I've cried, I've been encouraged. It's really a beautiful thing to read how adoption is molding, teaching, and redeeming families all across the globe. Everyday. In many different ways. But it's not all peaches and butterflies. I've been especially thankful for those bloggers who are not afraid to be raw and honest. Who are not afraid to educate the masses about their experiences with adoption. Sure, they would not change a thing, and they are the first to give God all the praise and glory. But they do not sugar coat. Because life is messy. And adoption can make it even messier...in a beautiful sort of way.

I think this is why the last lines of the blog I shared with you on Tuesday resonated with me so deeply: Challenge: Although not everyone can or should adopt or be foster parents, we all can support those who do. How could we do that today?

Serendipitously, a friend sent me a blog post today that tries to answer that very question. The author is a woman who recently adopted two children from Ethiopia. I love her wit. Her raw and uncensored writing style. Feel free to read the whole post if you have time, but if you don't here are some excerpts I thought may be helpful as you encounter couples and families who have been called to adoption:

Ways to support and speak to adoptive parents before the adoption:

1. Just kind, normal words of encouragement. Not the kind that assume we are one breath away from atheism. Not the kind that attempt to minimize the difficulties and tidy it all up with catchphrases. We don’t actually need for you to fix our wait. We just want you to be our friend and acknowledge that the process is hard and you care about us while we’re hurting. That is GOLD. I was once having lunch with my friend Lynde when AWAA called with more bad news about Ben’s case, and I laid my head down on the table in the middle of Galaxy Café and bawled. Having no idea what to do with such a hot mess, she just cried with me. Thank you for being perfect that day, Lynde.

2. Your questions are welcomed! We don’t mind telling you about the court system in Ethiopia or the in-country requirements in Nicaragua or the rules of the foster system. We’re glad to talk about adoption, and we’re thankful you care. I assure you we didn’t enter adoption lightly, so sharing details of this HUGE PIECE OF OUR LIVES is cathartic. Plus, we want you to know more because we’re all secretly hoping you’ll adopt later. (This is not true.) (Yes it is.)

3. When you say you’re praying for us and our waiting children, and you actually really are, not only does that soothe our troubled souls, but according to Scripture, it activates the heavens. So pray on, dear friends. Pray on. That is always the right thing to say. And please actually do it. We need people to stand in the gap for us when we are too tired and discouraged to keep praying the same words another day.

4. If you can, please become telepathic to determine which days we want to talk about adoption and which days we’d rather you just show up on our doorstep with fresh figs from the Farmer’s Market (thanks, Katie) or kidnap us away in the middle of the day to go see Bridesmaids. Sometimes we need you to make us laugh and remember what it feels like to be carefree for a few hours. If you’re not sure which day we’re having, just pre-buy movie tickets and show up with the figs, and when we answer the door, hold them all up and ask, “Would you like to talk for an hour uninterrupted about waiting for a court date?” We’ll respond to whichever one fits.

Ways you can support adoptive parents after the adoption:

1. Cook for your friends. Put together a meal calendar and recruit every person who even remotely cares about them. We didn’t cook dinners for one solid month, and folks, that may have single handedly saved my sanity. There simply are not words to describe how exhausting and overwhelming those first few weeks are, not to mention the lovely jetlag everyone came home with. And if your friends adopted domestically right up the street, this is all still true, minus the jetlag.

2. If we have them, offer to take our biological kids for an adventure or sleepover. Please believe me: their lives just got WHACKED OUT, and they need a break, but their parents can’t give them one because they are 1.) cleaning up pee and poop all day, 2.) holding screaming children, 3.) spending all their time at doctors’ offices, and 4.) falling asleep in their clothes at 8:15pm. Plus, they are in lockdown mode with the recently adopted, trying to shield them from the trauma that is Walmart.

3. Thank you for getting excited with us over our little victories. I realize it sounds like a very small deal when we tell you our kindergartener is now staying in the same room as the dog, but if you could’ve seen the epic level of freakoutedness this dog caused her for three weeks, you would understand that this is really something. When you encourage us over our incremental progress, it helps. You remind us that we ARE moving forward and these little moments are worth celebrating. If we come to you spazzing out, please remind us where we were a month ago. Force us to acknowledge their gains. Be a cheerleader for the healing process.

4. Come over one night after our kids are asleep and sit with us on our porch. Let me tell you: we are all lonely in those early weeks. We are home, home, home, home, home. Good-bye, date nights. Good-bye, GNO’s. Good-bye, spontaneous anything. Good-bye, church. Good-bye, big public outings. Good-bye, community group. Good-bye, nightlife. So please bring some community to our doorstep. Bring friendship back into our lives. Bring adult conversation and laughter. And bring an expensive bottle of wine.

5. If the shoe fits, tell adopting families how their story is affecting yours. If God has moved in you over the course of our adoption, whether before the airport or after, if you’ve made a change or a decision, if somewhere deep inside a fire was lit, tell us, because it is spiritual water on dry souls. There is nothing more encouraging than finding out God is using our families for greater kingdom work, beautiful things we would never know or see. We gather the holy moments in our hands every day, praying for eyes to see God’s presence, his purposes realized in our story. When you put more holy moments in our hands to meditate on, we are drawn deeper into the Jesus who led us here.

And here's the part I loved the most:

Here’s one last thing: As you watch us struggle and celebrate and cry and flail, we also want you to know that adoption is beautiful, and a thousand times we’ve looked at each other and said, “What if we would’ve said no?” God invited us into something monumental and lovely, and we would’ve missed endless moments of glory had we walked away. We need you during these difficult months of waiting and transitioning, but we also hope you see that we serve a faithful God who heals and actually sets the lonely in families, just like He said He would. And even through the tears and tantrums (ours), we look at our children and marvel that God counted us worthy to raise them. We are humbled. We’ve been gifted with a very holy task, and when you help us rise to the occasion, you have an inheritance in their story; your name will be counted in their legacy.

Yes! On a very personal note, Joel and I have been moved to tears by the ways we have been loved and supported in the last five weeks. "Thank you" cannot begin to express what we feel towards our family and friends. You have all been the epitome of Christ's love. And rest assured, your name will be counted in our baby's legacy.

Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.
-Galatians 6:2

Adoption is Not Normal

On this beautiful first day of November, instead of reading my words and thoughts on adoption, I'd love for you to read another's. The link below is from a blog my husband follows. I kind of want to hug the woman who wrote it...

Adoption - An Outside View

Please continue to pray for us as we wait for baby girl to arrive. Her due date is quickly approaching and the birth mother is feeling very tired! We have some renewed hope in this adoption going through, but I will leave it at that. Now, all we can do is wait...and trust...

But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint.
-Isaiah 40:31

An Exercise in Giving Thanks

A thankful heart. I would say on most days this is what I have. I realized fairly early into our infertility that unless I possessed gratitude for the things I did have, the grief would swallow me whole. The anger at God would persist. And I would become a bitter, nasty woman. It sounds funny, but I am thankful for my thankful heart. However, it does fail me at times. I am not perfect. Life is messy. And there are just days, seasons, when I am not thankful. I am discouraged. And I would prefer to wallow in my self pity. That is where I've been the last few days. Let me catch you up...

Sunday 10/16: We have a lovely one-hour phone conversation with the birth mother. We hit it off with her, learn about each other, laugh. Then we ask if she can tell us about the birth father. A man the social worker told us was not at all in the picture, his whereabouts completely unknown. Quite the contrary. Without going into too much detail, I will simply say that he is most definitely still in the picture. And most definitely has no idea about the adoption plans. Suddenly I'm the one needing a Lamaze class.

Monday 10/17: Realizing this changes everything, we get the social workers involved. As suspected, they tell us the birth father indeed needs to be notified. Having been told that he thwarted the birth mother's attempt at putting their second child up for adoption, we are not super excited about this turn of events. And neither is the birth mother. Which is exactly why she didn't want to involve him in the first place. Sadly, our legal system doesn't work that way. And neither do we. The last thing we need is a baby daddy knocking on our door after the adoption has already taken place. Hee-hee-hooooooooo. Hee-hee-hooooooooo.

Wednesday 10/19: The adoption agency sends out a certified letter to the birth father, alerting him to the adoption plans. He can either (1) consent to the adoption, (2) place himself on the putative father registry, which essentially means he wants to be notified when adoption proceedings begin so he can intervene, or (3) do nothing. If he chooses option (3) he will still have 30 days after the baby's birth to come forward and claim paternity. Which, yes, means we risk giving this baby up after several days of loving and caring for her. [This is where Lamaze goes out the window and I just stop breathing altogether].

Thursday 10/20: We drive down to Chi-town to meet the birth mother and her social worker, only to find out the birth mother can't make it anymore. Huh? We still manage to have a delightful meeting with her social worker, which we're actually quite happy about. Oh and did I mention that this meeting took place at a Denny's? Joel and I have enjoyed an ongoing war of words over Denny's for about the last five years. Ha! Proof that God has a sense of humor.

Friday 10/21: My optimism runs out and the weight of the week comes crashing down on my shoulders. Of course right before work. Of course after I put on mascara.

And that is where I've been since Friday. Realizing this has a high chance of not working out. Beginning to grieve the idea of this little girl as our daughter. Forcing myself to let go. Laying in my pool of self-pity. My boo-hoo's and why-me's. It's not fun. And in this season, I admit that I am struggling to be thankful.

But then I see a friend's status on Facebook proclaiming it is exactly 30 days from Thanksgiving. She is going to post one thing she is thankful for each day until then. I'm sure you all have seen this Facebook trend in years past. I know I have. And this year I'm going to do it. It is my exercise in giving thanks. Because I know my thankful heart needs to get whipped back into shape. I have so much to be thankful for. Baby or no baby. And while I believe we all must give ourselves permission to wallow at times, we also need to pull ourselves up by the boot straps and see the good that stands right in front of us. Because it truly is good. And because it all comes from God, the One who made the universe and all that is in it...and still makes time to smile on me.

Thankfulness is "the chief exercise of godliness" in which we ought to engage during the whole of our life.
-Ronald S. Wallace, Calvin's Doctrine of the Christian Life, p. 284

To be grateful is to recognize the love of God in everything He has given us - and He has given us everything. Every breath we draw is a gift of His love, every moment of existence is a grace, for it brings with it immense graces from Him. Gratitude therefore takes nothing for granted, is never unresponsive, is constantly awakening to new wonder and to praise of the goodness of God. For the grateful person knows that God is good, not by hearsay but by experience. And that is what makes all the difference.
-Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude, p. 42

The Lord is Near

Last winter, a young girl was date-raped and became pregnant. We learned about her in early February when she was 15 weeks along and planning an abortion. Out of the heartache I felt for her and her baby, I wrote this post. God did many amazing things at that time. I look back in both amazement and fondness because of how close He felt and how undeniably He spoke to me. I thank Him for giving me the opportunity to channel the pain Joel and I had suffered at the hands of infertility into a letter of encouragement. A letter to a girl whose name we did not even know. But a letter that ultimately helped change the tides of her baby's fate. We learned in August that she had given birth to a healthy baby boy and a sweet couple from the great state of Minnesota had adopted him. I truly believe God has big plans for this little boy.

One of the many beautiful things about this story is that it created a defining moment in February that propelled us to get off the couch, stop feeling sorry for ourselves, and move forward with our adoption plans. Moreover, despite our pursuit of international adoption, we instead felt God strongly leading us toward domestic adoption through this young girl's situation. Needless to say, we followed His lead and are so very glad we did. Because what we didn't know was around that very same moment, in the cold darkness of February, a little girl was conceived in Chicago...and eight months later her mother would be choosing us as her adoptive parents. While nothing is certain until 72 hours after the birth, when parental rights are relinquished, we are hopeful. We see God's hand in all the details. Too many to chronicle in this post!

We get to meet the young birth mother on Thursday. A part of me wants to hug her so hard she can't breathe (and probably start crying all over her). The other part wants to simply shake her hand and smile. Since learning she picked us, we have been wavering between over-the-roof excitement and extreme caution. With this baby coming in a matter of weeks, we have had to find the balance between preparing our home and our hearts, and protecting them. It is anxiety-inducing to say the least! And at the same time, it's all I could have hoped for or imagined.

No matter how this plays out, the truth of the matter is that God is here. It's unquestionable, even in the midst of uncertainty. If this is truly our baby then watch out...I'm gonna be the crazy lady running through the streets of Chicago screaming "Hallelujah!" And if she's not, then we will trust God in our disappointment and wait patiently on Him to lead us to another. Because He is good and has made it His job to redeem all things. Until then, this is my mantra...

The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
-Philippians 4:5b-7

Somewhere Between Hope and Self-Preservation...

This is where I live. This is where I have been living for almost the last three years. Finding the balance between unabashedly hoping and trusting that the Lord will grant you your heart's desire, and protecting yourself from the seemingly constant realization that His timing is seldom your own is a constant theme in my life.

Today our adoption portfolio should be reaching a social worker in Chicago who will place it in the hands of a pregnant mother. Along with our portfolio, will be the portfolios of a few equally wonderful, able, and loving wannabe adoptive parents...couples who have probably been waiting for some time now (because unlike us, they actually have their home study done!). It's fun and exciting to start discussing things like furniture, names, logistics. It's scary yet thrilling to imagine dropping everything and leaving for Chicago at a moment's notice to meet a baby that could become our daughter. But it's dangerous. Oh so dangerous.

As a couple who has endured the month-by-month agony of infertility, every fiber of our being whispers to us things like: "She won't choose you"..."Even if she chooses you, she may not like you in person"..."She'll choose you and change her mind after the baby has already been in your arms". It's terrifying. And that's where the self-preservation comes in. That's where I try to rationalize everything to death. Just. To. Protect. I feel myself building up walls. But they're only knee-high right now. Y'know, just in case I need to step over them.

Lately I have kept coming back to Exodus 14. The Israelites have left Egypt and are in the desert. They were hopeful but are now disillusioned and terrified. The Egyptians are in hot pursuit, fearing they made a grave mistake by letting the Israelites go. When the Israelites find themselves surrounded by Pharaoh and his army, Moses says in verses 13 and 14, “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the LORD will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.”

The Egyptians in this story are my deepest fears and doubts. Moses represents our friends and family who have so graciously been walking alongside us in the desert. And the LORD...well, He is the LORD. The unchanging Yahweh. The One who keeps His promises and fights for His people. May we be still and trust that He will fight for us as we cross the Red Sea and beyond. Whenever that may be...



Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and all that night the LORD drove the sea back with a strong east wind and turned it into dry land. The waters were divided, and the Israelites went through the sea on dry ground, with a wall of water on their right and on their left.

The Egyptians pursued them, and all Pharaoh’s horses and chariots and horsemen followed them into the sea. During the last watch of the night the LORD looked down from the pillar of fire and cloud at the Egyptian army and threw it into confusion. He jammed the wheels of their chariots so that they had difficulty driving. And the Egyptians said, “Let’s get away from the Israelites! The LORD is fighting for them against Egypt.”
-Exodus 14:21-25

We Know How to Do Crazy

2004: We buy a house and decide it would be fun to remodel it while planning for our wedding. We get married and subsequently enter into significant changes in our careers and schooling. I decide to chase a hurricane and make Joel pay for it. We decide we're not going get a dog for two years (y'know...cuz we wanted to be stable in our marriage and all). Two weeks later, we end up driving home from Michigan with a free dog we got at a garage sale.

2005: We have this crazy idea to go to Kenya to love on women and kids affected by HIV/AIDS. We decide to finish our basement...ourselves.

2006: We go to Kenya. It rocks us to the core. Joel gets deathly ill there. We return and say to ourselves "we're never going back." Naturally, we decide this while trying to complete our basement project, which by this time has taken about 10 years off of Joel's life.

2007: We return to Kenya.

2008: Hey! Wouldn't it be fun to write a Master's thesis and start a new job while co-founding a non-profit organization? And then backpack through Europe?! Yup! We return and Joel loses me to 75% work travel for the next year.

2009: I change roles at work and take on significantly more responsibility whilst we plan, educate, and eventually lead a team of 18 people to Kenya and back (and get them all good 'n' food poisoned just before we board a plane for home).

2010: We sell our first home (miraculously) and buy the one house that I kinda hated. We spend the entire summer gutting it and putting it back together again. We eat lots of Hubbard Ave. pies to console ourselves after months of sleeping in drywall dust. I threaten to leave Joel and take the dog with me until the house is finished.

2011: The house is still not finished (but I love it now!). We decide to return to Kenya on a whim. Just before we leave we deposit an application and a non-refundable check to an adoption agency. I go to the Philippines and Thailand with two weeks notice. We begin our adoption home study in September and are told we could have a baby by the end of the year. To which we laugh hysterically and reply "...like 2011?! Uhhhh, thanks, but no."

Today: A pregnant woman in Chicago is looking for a couple to adopt her baby. Her only stipulation is that the couple not currently have other children. Her social worker calls our social worker: "Know anybody that fits this birth mother's request?" He sees only one on his list...us. Despite our currently incomplete home study, we get the call. We laugh hysterically (again). We have a moment of calm and clarity and decide to go for it. Our portfolio photo-book (which serendipitously was delivered just yesterday) will be sent to Chicago tomorrow. The birth mother will have a few couples to choose from. If she chooses us, and if our meeting with her were to go well, we could be the proud parents of a little African-American girl. Oh yeah...she's due in 2-3 weeks.

"This is completely crazy...which makes it so perfect for us."
-Joel Hassenzahl, October 2nd, 2011

June 30th

Hello readers! Long time no "see". What a crazy and eventful summer it has been for the Hassenzahl's. I've been around the world and back...and even lived to tell about it! But not today. Today, I want to share with you a post I've been holding onto since June 30th. As you will see, the last paragraph reveals a bit of my angst about publishing this post. And ultimately I chose not to at that time. I'm not even completely sure I want to post it now, but I feel the need to let people in. To let people pray. And to let myself have this forum again for processing my thoughts. So without further ado, here are my words from June 30th, 2011...

Today is a very special day. First and foremost, today is my beautiful mother's birthday. Happy Birthday, mom! Today is also the day that will go down in Hassenzahl history as the day we sent in our adoption application. Yep, you heard me! The first round of i's are dotted and t's are crossed. A non-refundable check has been written. We are really doing this, people. Whoa. No wonder my heart has been palpitating all day long!

There's no telling what the future will bring. But today I revel in the feeling of progress, hope and anticipation...or is it heartburn? It's all a bit surreal to be honest. Of course, we still have to be accepted into the agency's program. So please pray that the social worker(s) assigned to us will look favorably upon our application (and overlook the crazy...and yes, I'm mostly talking about Joel here. Kidding!).

I do have to say, I was torn on whether to blog about this momentous day. For many couples, including us, the period from when you submit your application to when the home study is completed, is a lot like the first trimester of a pregnancy. At one point our intention was to not utter a word about the adoption until after the home study had been completed - when we knew it was safer to do so. In the end, we need and covet the prayers of friends and family in this time. Not to mention I'm just too dang excited to keep this to myself right now! That said, Joel and I would appreciate your discretion over the next several months as we wrestle with the home study. We ask that any questions or words of encouragement be reserved for private messages (which can include comments on this blog) and/or face-to-face conversations.

Stay tuned to this blog to find out what happens next in this exciting adventure of ours. We can't wait to see what God has in store...

...for in you the fatherless find compassion.
-Hosea 14:3

Orchestrated

You ever have one of those days where you are very quickly reminded that you are not in control? But in a good way? Where things happen swiftly and succinctly, and come together beautifully? Where people let you in on curious things happening behind the scenes? Things you had no idea were happening, but all of a sudden give a whole new meaning to what you did or said? Well today is one of those days.

I'm thankful. Because God, in His infinite wisdom, actually does know what He's doing. He's the conductor of a great orchestra. And even when His musicians aren't willing to play with the passion and dedication He desires, He still finds a way to make their noise meaningful. Why do I always need to be reminded of that?

God is doing great things, people. Even in our mundane and ordinary lives. He's softening the hearts of ardent atheists, while providing the means to reach the impoverished. He's forging new friendships and healing lonely hearts, while building unlikely families. He's speaking. And I hope we're all listening.

But just as it is written, “Things that no eye has seen, or ear heard, or mind imagined, are the things God has prepared for those who love him.” God has revealed these to us by the Spirit. For the Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God.
-1 Corintians 2:9-10

Summing it Up

I came across a quote today that I just had to share. It was posted on a blog I follow, and completely sums up what I have been feeling for so long...

"There is an instinct in a woman to love most her own child - and an instinct to make any child who needs her love, her own."
-Robert Brault

Through the subtleties of our society and culture, most women are raised to desire a husband and a family. As little girls we play with dolls, we make believe, we watch Cinderella, we dream about our futures, we plan. But aside from the ways in which we're raised, many women desire these things on a very instinctual level. As humans, we're designed in God's image. We're designed for love. And as women, we're designed to bring forth life. It's instinct. It's nature. It's the way God created us, and it's ridiculously amazing when you think about it. It's just not a guarantee.

My instincts as a woman tell me to keep striving for pregnancy. That no child will be quite like my own. That nothing could compare to a little person that is half me and half my husband. But my instincts as a human, as an adopted daughter of God, tell me otherwise. And those are the instincts I hold tightly to these days.

"Do not be afraid, for I am with you;
I will bring your children from the east
and gather you from the west.
I will say to the north, ‘Give them up!’
and to the south, ‘Do not hold them back.’
Bring my sons from afar
and my daughters from the ends of the earth—
everyone who is called by my name,
whom I created for my glory,
whom I formed and made.”
-Isaiah 43:5-7

Grey Skies

It's a gloomy day in Madison. In fact, it's a gloomy day in the Midwest. Talking to friends in various locations around the country this morning, grey skies seem to be prevailing. What happened to Spring?

It's a gloomy day in my heart. An old school mate died in a motorcycle accident on Friday. His mother needed to be dragged, kicking and screaming, from his dead body after sitting with him for over three hours in the morgue. Last night I arrived home to my neighbor walking up our driveway to apologize for not responding to our dinner invitation. Her 16-year-old nephew committed suicide on Sunday evening. The funeral was yesterday. She was wrecked, overwhelmed, exhausted.

In times like these, it's hard not to think about the incapacitating sadness that happens everyday in our world. The trials that people must endure. How do you move forward when your child is suddenly gone? Without any warning? As I was brushing my teeth last night, I couldn't help but ponder what life without children would be like. No fear of losing them. No worry that they will turn on you, hate you, live a life that destroys you. I've seen these all happen. And to good parents. Really good parents, including my own. I can't help but wonder if perhaps we're better off childless?

In the end, I don't honestly believe this is true for us. Just today. Just when I am confronted with mothers burying their children. It's not fair. It's not right. And so I will keep these folks in my heart and pray for them the words of Psalm 71...

Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up. You will increase my honor and comfort me once more.
-Psalm 71:20-21

Signs

Happy Mother's Day to my Mom, my Grandma, and all the mothers before them. Without their love, dedication, and hard work, I would not be here today. I am both humbled and blessed to have been born into such a beautiful and strong line of women. Mom and Grandma, I hope you know just how much I love you two!

Thank you to those of you who showered me with encouragement this Mother's Day. Whether by text, card, email, Facebook, impromptu pedicure, or hope-inspiring gift, you flooded my day and weekend with love and support. In the midst of infertility's isolation, I felt remembered. Words can't even begin to describe how this lifted me up and sustained me through an oft bittersweet holiday. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

And thanks be to God for choosing today to unfold the beauty of our spring tulips. Only yesterday they were small buds, closed up like a tight fist. We couldn't believe how dramatically they had changed overnight. It was as if God, Himself, wanted to encourage me on Mother's Day. And perhaps remind me that like those tulips, situations can change at any moment. Often when we least expect them to. May this be a sign of brighter days to come on the journey towards motherhood...

For as [she] thinks in her heart, so is [she].
-Proverbs 23:7

There and Back Again: A Hassenzahl's Tale...

When Joel and I bought each other hiking backpacks as wedding gifts nearly seven years ago, we had no idea where life would take us. We only knew we wanted to be taken. This is one area of our lives where the desires of our hearts have been granted. When I think of the places we've seen, the people we've met, the things we've learned...I am humbled and so very grateful.

We've had the privilege of traveling all over the world...often together, sometimes apart. And this year is no different! There's nothing quite like the exhilaration of travel to take my mind off the constant dull ache of infertility. We love Madison. And we LOVE our Madison friends so very dearly. But sometimes it's refreshing to get a reprieve from what's become the "baby bubble." To open our eyes and expand our horizons...to see that in the grand scheme of things we're not alone and we're not behind. It just feels that way living in a town and church community where seemingly 1 in 3 women are brimming with new life. It's a beautiful thing, really. Just a hard pill to swallow for us fertility-challenged couples.

After a quick jaunt to Oklahoma City for a work conference, Joel and I will be boarding a flight to Nairobi, Kenya in July. This will be our fourth trip to Kenya, and our third time spending our anniversary in an airplane over the African continent. I'd say that's pretty fitting! There's honestly no place I'd rather be on my wedding anniversary, than squished into a tiny airplane seat, sipping mediocre airline wine out of plastic cups, with my hubby and most favorite travel buddy. Truly. This is not sarcasm, folks! Shocking...I know. And to say that Joel and I are excited about this trip would be an understatement. There will be much more blogging to come regarding this adventure...stay tuned!

We will return home from Kenya on July 18th. After a couple weeks of recuperation, which generally entails a great deal of sleep and a diet solely consisting of cereal, we will pack up the car and the dog and head north. To my motherland. To my oh-so-beautiful home state of Minnesota. The lakes of Minnesota have become our summer happy place. I'm very fortunate to have parents with homes on two of the most beautiful lakes in the state. I can't wait to lie in bed, listening to the call of the loons, after a day of playing in the water, relaxing in the sun, eating too much, drinking too much...well, you get the point.

To cap off the summer, I will once again be returning to a place that's quickly becoming my home away from home. Boulder, Colorado. I love this town. I adore the friends I've made there. And the Flatirons, with the Rocky Mountains behind them, are simply awe-inspiring. And the best part of it all? My travels to Boulder are almost always for work. Thus everything is paid for...either by my company or the research institution that I collaborate with there. Bliss. In fact, the building in the photo above is one of the two facilities I "work" at when I'm in Boulder. Pretty rough, right? (Note: You may need to click on the photo to see the building clearly).

As crazy as this summer will be, the very thought of it...the places I'll be, the faces I'll see...energizes my soul and refreshes my outlook on life. I am so very blessed. And so very thankful for springtime, which unfailingly ushers in clarity and a little skip in my step.

My lover spoke to me, saying: “Arise, my darling; My beautiful one, come away with me! Look! The winter has passed, the winter rains are over and gone. The pomegranates have appeared in the land, the time for pruning and singing has come; the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. The fig tree has budded, the vines have blossomed and give off their fragrance. Arise, come away my darling; my beautiful one, come away with me!”
- Song of Songs 2:10-13

Follow-Up

Well, it appears as though Courtney, the blogging mama of 11 kids who inspired yesterday's post, got quite the mix of responses to her list of questions she regarded as "poor etiquette" (most of them I repeated here).

She wrote a follow-up post today that I think is worth a read. She makes some very good points. And as a wannabe adoptive parent, I love reading what she has to say. I hope you do, too...

http://www.storinguptreasures.com/2011/04/little-more-from-yesterday.html

Etiquette

Today, I feel compelled to bring up a subject that quite frankly makes my pulse race. It's the subject of etiquette, where another person's family life and decisions are concerned. Please accept my apologies if this post comes off as a reprimand. As someone who has repeatedly and increasingly been on the receiving end of ill-placed questions and remarks, I wish only to educate and shed light on this matter.

Poor etiquette in regard to the aforementioned subject can be hurtful, even when it is well-intentioned. What individuals, couples or families go through behind closed doors is deeply personal. The decisions they make are, in the end, between themselves and God. I understand that in Christian circles, we are encouraged to be open and honest. To shed our masks and love each other just as we are. But I also believe these Christian ideals need not apply to every "Joe Shmoe" you may pass in the church hallways. As many of you know, I am very open to discussing our infertility (otherwise, I would not be writing this blog!). But I do not appreciate being put on the spot by people I barely know...people that assume this, that, and the other thing about my husband and me. You never know what people are going through. So I urge you - unless you know you are in someone's "inner circle", please think before you speak or ask questions like the following...

[Note: These questions were taken from one of my favorite bloggers, a woman named, Courtney. Mother to 11 children...six biological, five adopted. She is pretty fabulous, and knows a thing or two about this subject. I encourage you to follow her at: http://www.storinguptreasures.com/]

Things you should never say. Ever.
* Never, ever ask a women if she is pregnant. She could be overweight. She could have an illness, or she could have diastasis.

* Never ask a big family if "they know how that happens". It's crude. No one wants to discuss their sex life with a stranger.

* Never ask an adoptive family which ones are their "real kids". All children are real.

* Never ask an adoptive family if the children are "real brothers and sisters". Siblings are siblings no matter how they became that way.

* Never ask a childless couple when they are going to have kids. They could be trying. They could be infertile. They may not want children.

* Never ask a homeschooling Mom about socialization. It's laughable.

* Never say to a big family, "Your house must be huge". Usually our homes are not.

* Never say to a big family, "You must be rich!". We usually are not.

* Never ask someone how much money they make. Period.

* Never say to a Mom of a big family, "Your husband must be a doctor or lawyer". They usually are not.

* Never ask a single person why they are still single.

* Never ask if the black child in a family is from Africa. Not all black adopted children come from Africa.

* Never make a reference about The Blind Side to an adoptive family.

* Never ask a dating couple when they are going to get married.

* Never, even in jest ask a couple if they are "done". I don't care how many kids they have. It's rude.

* Never ask a woman when she is due, unless you are certain, without a doubt, that she is expecting.

* Never tell a pregnant woman how she is carrying. No one wants to know their butt has gotten bigger. Or that they are carrying "all over".

* Never tell a new Mom how to take care of her baby. She will figure it out herself like we all do.

* Never assume the gender of a baby. If you don't know, simply use the phrase "Your baby is _____________ {fill in the blank}".

* Never offer disciplinary advice to a Mom with a child who is out of control. You don't know if that child has autism, ADHD, RAD and that Mom may very well be doing the best she can.

* If a child is melting down in a public place, don't stare. Move on. Again you have no idea what that child may mentally be dealing with.

* If you see a big family pull up in a van, please no jokes about baseball teams, the circus, or a daycare.

* Never ask a homeschooling Mom how she manages to teach all of her children. Teachers have 25-35 students each day they have to teach and they aren't even her own kids.

* Never ask an adoptive family which kids are adopted. No adopted child wants to be pointed out.

* Never ask an adoptive parent how much their child "cost".

* Never make an Angelina Jolie reference to an adoptive family. None of us have nannies, personal trainers, housekeepers, and look like her after so many kids.

* Never make a Duggar reference to a big family. Most of us are nothing like them.

* Never say to a big family, "You should have your own reality TV show."

* Never tell any mother that her child is anything but adorable and perfect.

* Never say things to the older children of a big family like "You must have to work so hard." Or "It must be really hard to have all of those siblings." Our kids will look at you like you are crazy.

* If a pregnant woman looks very pregnant, never say "You look ready to pop". She may have months left to go.

* Never, ever tell a pregnant woman she looks like she is carrying twins. She probably isn't.

* Never tell a childless couple how great having a baby is. Again, they may be infertile.

* Never tell new parents all of the horror stories of being a parent.

* Never tell a newly pregnant woman all of the horror stories of birth.

* Never ask an adoptive Mom about her children's birth parents, especially in front of the child. Things like "Why didn't they want him?" or "Why was she given up?" are hurtful to the child and often times the adoptive parent prefers to keep the information on the birth parents private.

* Never ask a family who has chosen to adopt first, "When are you going to have children of your own." He is my own, damn it.

* Never say "Oh, you must be a saint for adopting these poor kids" or "Oh I hope they appreciate what you've done for them". They probably don't, just like my bio kids probably don't appreciate me giving birth to them.

On a personal note, I give you permission to call me out if the words I speak are ever hurtful or offensive, assuming or condescending in light of your current life circumstances. As Mahatma Ghandi taught me, I have to be the change I want to see in this world...

Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise: and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding.
-Proverbs 17:28

Mmm, Lemon Scones

Well, here you go! A photo of what I chose to create with my little freshly-picked Meyer Lemon: Lemon-poppy-seed-blueberry scones (from scratch...take that, Martha Stewart). Of course, served warm with the homemade marmalade I received at my friend's baby shower. YUM.

Concerning Lemons...

I attended the baby shower of a very dear friend on Saturday morning. She has been living in San Francisco for the last year, so I was thankful we had an opportunity to celebrate her while she was in Madison for work. My friend and her mother are the type of women who effortlessly make everything better. They are talented artists, incredible gardeners and landscapers, phenomenal chefs. So it was no surprise that this simple, yet elegant, baby shower looked like something straight out of a Martha Stewart magazine. The table decorations were lovely. The food was outstanding. The ambiance perfect. And the best part was that our party favors included a small jar of homemade marmalade and one beautiful lemon...fresh off of my friend's lemon tree in San Francisco.

Later that evening, I made a lovely loaf of honey-wheat bread. While it was still warm, I tried out the marmalade (made from fresh California grapefruit, oranges and lemons). It was incredible. My taste buds had found their happy place. The lemon, I tucked away in the refrigerator, where it waits for just the right recipe in which to lend its flavor.

In the background of these wonderful celebrations and taste explosions, an entirely different drama was unfolding. One that I had been keenly aware of, and fervently praying about. I was given the opportunity to use my experiences over the last two years in order to encourage someone in a very dark place. A young woman on the brink of making a life-changing choice. So as the bread was baking and my stomach was growling, I wrote a letter to a woman I had never met. It was an incredible experience. I truly felt God working in those hours of writing. It was therapy for me. And I sincerely hope my words and experiences will be a blessing to this young lady in her time of need.

It wasn't until 15 minutes ago that I realized the symbolism of this day. I was literally and figuratively given a lemon...and along with it, the opportunity to create something beautiful. This is exciting because I live in Wisconsin. The frozen tundra. Receiving a freshly-picked lemon in the middle of February is not an everyday occurrence around these parts. So the fact that I was presented with a lemon at the very moment I was about to take the "lemon" of infertility and channel it into a letter that would hopefully impact a young woman's life for the better, is just...so...perfect. And just so God.

Maybe I am reading far more into this than I should. But for now, in my crazy little world, it makes sense. It makes me happy. And it has me dreaming of all the tasty creations I can make with my sour little lemon. I will let you know what I decide!

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or sword? As it is written: "For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered." No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
- Romans 8:35-39

Why?

I've been thinking a lot about a girl. A girl in a very messy situation. I do not know her name, only a small part of her story. A story that I'm technically not supposed to know, but praying to be a part of. It has me thinking about reasons and opportunities. Ways in which God's light can shine in the most tragic moments of our lives. It has me asking "why?" Because quite honestly I don't know why two perfectly healthy people in a loving marriage can't get pregnant. I don't know why young girls are robbed of their innocence. I just don't know. But I do know that no matter our situation, God does not abandon us. I know that he can, and does, bless us in the midst of it. And that the trials we face can themselves be unexpected blessings.

This afternoon I started studying the book of Hosea. I love how God never fails to align my studies with the grit of my current circumstances. And this study is no exception. In the excerpt below, Dr. James Montgomery Boice comments on how God led Hosea into an adulterous marriage, and subsequently into a world of immense heartache and personal anguish (from The Minor Prophets, 2 vol.):

"We live in an age where everything good is interpreted in terms of happiness and success. So when we think of spiritual blessing we think of it in these terms. To be led by God and be blessed by God means that we will be 'happy' and 'successful.' ...This is shallow thinking and shallow Christianity. ...God sometimes leads his children to do things that afterward involve them in great distress. But because God does not think as we think or act as we act, it is often in these situations that he accomplishes his greatest victories and brings the greatest blessing to his name."

I can't tell you how many times in the last two years I've asked God, "why?" And how many more times I've pleaded with Him to someday show me a reason. To know that every childless month, and every tear shed, has not been for naught. I trust that the day will come when God will use Joel and me to accomplish some victory in His name. Something that perhaps we could not have played a role in had our prayers for a child been answered months ago. Until then, I pray for vigilance, patience and wisdom. And most of all I pray for a girl in an unfathomable situation. That she will know God's faithfulness and allow Him to use this moment in her life to bring blessing to His name.

I will commit myself to you forever; I will commit myself to you in righteousness and justice, in steadfast love and tender compassion. I will commit myself to you in faithfulness.
- Hosea 2:19-20

Laughter is the Best Medicine

Happy New Year, everyone! I've decided my first post of 2011 needs to be riddled with humor. I'm trying to turn over a new leaf. Have a better attitude, be less bitter, more joyful, more appreciative, more loving and forgiving (gosh, that's hard sometimes). That said, a friend shared the following "lessons" on Facebook today, and I just had to blog it. For those of you who are parents, I'm sure you can agree on many of these points and find the humor in them. For those of you who are not yet parents, but want to be, I hope this helps you appreciate your quiet, clean house and the 7-8 hours of sleep you'll get tonight. Joel and I especially loved Lessons 5 and 7. Bring on the laughs...

Thinking of Having Kids? Do this 11 step program first!
**Author Unknown**

Lesson 1
1. Go to the grocery store.
2. Arrange to have your salary paid directly to their head office.
3. Go home.
4. Pick up the paper.
5. Read it for the last time.

Lesson 2
Before you finally go ahead and have children, find a couple who already are parents and berate them about their...
1. Methods of discipline.
2. Lack of patience.
3. Appallingly low tolerance levels.
4. Allowing their children to run wild.
5. Suggest ways in which they might improve their child's breastfeeding, sleep habits, toilet training, table manners, and overall behavior.
Enjoy it because it will be the last time in your life you will have all the answers.

Lesson 3
A really good way to discover how the nights might feel...
1. Get home from work and immediately begin walking around the living room from 5PM to 10PM carrying a wet bag weighing approximately 8-12 pounds, with a radio turned to static (or some other obnoxious sound) playing loudly. (Eat cold food with one hand for dinner).
2. At 10PM, put the bag gently down, set the alarm for midnight, and go to sleep.
3. Get up at 12 and walk around the living room again, with the bag, until 1AM.
4. Set the alarm for 3AM.
5. As you can't get back to sleep, get up at 2AM and make a drink and watch an infomercial.
6. Go to bed at 2:45AM.
7. Get up at 3AM when the alarm goes off.
8. Sing songs quietly in the dark until 4AM.
9. Get up. Make breakfast. Get ready for work and go to work (work hard and be productive).
Repeat steps 1-9 each night. Keep this up for 3-5 years. Look cheerful and together.

Lesson 4
Can you stand the mess children make? T o find out...
1. Smear peanut butter onto the sofa and jam onto the curtains.
2. Hide a piece of raw chicken behind the stereo and leave it there all summer.
3. Stick your fingers in the flower bed.
4. Then rub them on the clean walls.
5. Take your favorite book, photo album, etc. Wreck it.
6. Spill milk on your new pillows. Cover the stains with crayons. How does that look?

Lesson 5
Dressing small children is not as easy as it seems.
1. Buy an octopus and a small bag made out of loose mesh.
2. Attempt to put the octopus into the bag so that none of the arms hang out.
Time allowed for this - all morning.

Lesson 6
Forget the BMW and buy a mini-van. And don't think that you can leave it out in the driveway spotless and shining. Family cars don't look like that.
1. Buy a chocolate ice cream cone and put it in the glove compartment.
Leave it there.
2. Get a dime. Stick it in the CD player.
3. Take a family size package of chocolate cookies. Mash them into the back seat. Sprinkle cheerios all over the floor, then smash them with your foot.
4. Run a garden rake along both sides of the car.

Lesson 7
Go to the local grocery store. Take with you the closest thing you can find to a pre-school child. (A full-grown goat is an excellent choice). If you intend to have more than one child, then definitely take more than one goat. Buy your week's groceries without letting the goats out of your sight. Pay for everything the goat eats or destroys. Until you can easily accomplish this, do not even contemplate having children.

Lesson 8
1. Hollow out a melon.
2. Make a small hole in the side.
3. Suspend it from the ceiling and swing it from side to side.
4. Now get a bowl of soggy Cheerios and attempt to spoon them into the swaying melon by pretending to be an airplane.
5. Continue until half the Cheerios are gone.
6. Tip half into your lap. The other half, just throw up in the air.
You are now ready to feed a nine- month-old baby.

Lesson 9
Learn the names of every character from Sesame Street , Barney, Disney, the Teletubbies, and Pokemon. Watch nothing else on TV but PBS, the Disney channel or Noggin for at least five years. (I know, you're thinking What's 'Noggin'? Exactly the point).

Lesson 10
Make a recording of Fran Drescher saying 'mommy' repeatedly. (Important: no more than a four second delay between each 'mommy'; occasional crescendo to the level of a supersonic jet is required). Play this tape in your car everywhere you go for the next four years. You are now ready to take a long trip with a toddler.

Lesson 11
Start talking to an adult of your choice. Have someone else continually tug on your skirt hem, shirt- sleeve, or elbow while playing the 'mommy' tape made from Lesson 10 above. You are now ready to have a conversation with an adult while there is a child in the room.

Hilarious, no? Laughter really is the best medicine.

A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.
-Proverbs 17:22