Boxes are fun toys

Relevant picture of cute child

When I posted my status on Facebook today about packing, I went back and read the post I wrote about having our house on the market and I realized I'm long overdue for an update.

(short version)
We're under contract! Hooray! Praise God!

(long version)
We (and by we, I mean mostly me) were getting show weary and after 6 weeks on the market with no offers, talked to our realtor about taking it off. She encouraged us to wait until after the election, since people were waiting on big decisions until then and we agreed. That was a Monday.

That Monday was the day after we got home from a wonderful vacation with my parents. It took us a few days to unpack and put things away, but in those few days people kept showing up to look at the house. Now, to back up a few weeks, I had spent several very stressful and long-hour days early in September getting the house "staged" to show. And if you wondered, it is not like the shows where the stagers come and send the owners off and they come back to a delightfully lovely show-ready house. Ha!

If I thought it was hard to stage the house, it was even harder to live in a staged house, being ready at the drop of a hat to have someone come through it. That's why I was show-weary. And that's why I was taking my time unpacking from vacation, because with no appointments to see the house, I was enjoying just getting to live in it and let Ayla play with all her stuff.

So, Sunday we get home, Monday we decided to stay on the market a bit longer, Thursday a couple shows up to see the house without having called me first. Our place was a mess! Probably not hoarder style mess, but definitely not show ready. I let them come in and see it since they had gone to all the trouble to come, I just apologized profusely for the mess and asked them to please come see it during the open house that weekend when it would be beautiful. They were very kind about it and mentioned that they didn't mind getting to see what it would look like when they lived there.

The following Monday they came to see it again, with an appointment, and the next day they put in an offer! Full asking price with no seller subsidy. This was such an answer to prayer. The week before we put our house on the market, two other houses in our neighborhood went on. Since we're in a townhouse community, all the houses are virtually identical. Ours has a few more upgrades than the others that are (still) for sale, but I think the main difference was the mess. Had to be!

That was about three weeks ago and we close in another three weeks and have passed all the hurdles between offer and closing so far. The home inspection and appraisal came back with expected results and the couple seems really excited to move in and start making this their home.

Meanwhile, we've been looking for a place for us to live between now and next summer. Of course God answered this prayer, too, and provided us with a beautiful rental house in our price range right in the neighborhood we wanted with a landlord who was willing to do a short-term lease. We're moving in over there this weekend, though we can take our time before having to be out of here.

We are still looking for a new family for Mocha. The Virginia family I mentioned before turned out to have dog allergies, which may have been important information to know before they started looking for a dog, but at least they found out before adopting her!

She's got a new best friend, though, who would spend every waking moment with her if we'd let her!

Cute child with new best friend

And in completely unrelated moving news, Ayla's hair is long enough for this now.

Plange of Chans

I've started putting air quotes around the word "plan" when I think it or say it and real quotes when I write it. It's just that kind of word.


Remember the "plan" I laid out in that blog back in December about Mocha's Big Move? (If not, go ahead and click over there to read it. We'll wait.) Like today's title indicates, almost everything about our reality six months later is different.

Mocha has been happily assimilated into a new life with John's sister's family in Texas. She did have a big move, just not the one we expected.

My nephew Jaden reading Mocha a dinosaur book (her favorite kind).

John finally left this week. But he also didn't go where and when we expected. 

We've been waiting on paperwork for his trip since early March. We are still waiting, but in the meantime, he got the opportunity to go to a neighboring country and help out there for a little while. It looks like he'll be there about a month, but by now we know better than to count too much on any "plan!"


We have been so grateful for this extra time for Ayla to bond with her daddy. He was always smitten with her, but now he's gotten to know his little girl a little more and see her grow into the cheerful, chubby baby she is.

She thinks she picked a good daddy!

We do still expect for him to do his one year assignment at some point, we just don't know when.  I hesitate to say too much in advance now, because as you have seen, it doesn't hold much weight.

Speaking of weight, Ayla and I are packing our bags for a trip of our own next week. We're going to spend about three weeks with our families in Texas and Oklahoma, which is really going to make this time without John fly by. 

My "plan" is to keep blogging while I'm gone, but if it gets a little quiet(er) around here, please don't worry. We're doing well, probably just getting spoiled by grandmas and grandpas and aunts and uncles, or busy playing with cousins or friends. Or just relaxing, watching whatever my mom has on her DVR. 

Do you have any fun plans this summer?

Mocha's big move

My dog is moving to another country next year. She doesn't know it yet, so if you promise not to spoil the surprise, I'll tell you how this big move came about.

A few months ago, we learned that John's job was going transfer him overseas for a year. A year that would start a month or so after our baby was due.

We'd known since he took this job, he would be eligible for world-wide reassignment. It's a big world that includes where we live now, hundreds of countries, and a few places where people go for a year without their families.

Before we were pregnant, it was always my plan that if he ever got one of those "solo" assignments, I'd find a way to go "with" him, or at least go somewhere at the same time, whether in a military deployment or working for an NGO.

As it turns out, he will be going to one of those few places I can't go with him. Or "with" him.

Since I'm not trying to have my blog show up in any crazy internet searches, I'll tell you this way. It starts with P and ends with tan. Let's call it P-tan.

Honestly, I was jealous before I was sad, because I can't go. I'm the one who read the Greg Mortenson books first and wanted to jump on a plane and go help over there. I have a genetically inherited wanderlust and have wanted to live in that region since I was 17, when I first visited (a different country) and fell in love with it.

But he's going and I'm not. I'm having a baby. A much prayed-for, long-awaited, precious, miraculous baby. And that baby's first year is going to be way different that our dreams of it would have determined.

Of course, we've had time to process this and we're dealing with it pretty well. We've cried a lot. (Mostly me). We've questioned our decisions, we've questioned "God's timing," we've sought wise counsel, we've prayed and cried some more. We've talked to people who have done this. (Lots of people have done this, like thousands of troops deployed for the past several years. What a proud company of sacrifice for us to be joining!) We've gotten amazing support from our families and friends.

Remember my blog about our bed? This is what I was setting you up to tell you. We believe God has been preparing us for this since before we met. He gave us a thirst for adventure, a love for travel and a desire to live in and raise our kids in awareness and appreciation for foreign cultures. He wove something into the DNA of our relationship that has enabled us to endure, thrive and grow as a couple during our separations.

When we started dating two months before I left the country for a year, we knew that something in the separation was necessary for us to be the couple God intended us to be. And even through many tears and questions now, I believe the same thing. There is some reason, a good purpose, that our family will be shaped in this unique way.

We know it's going to be tough, but here are some of the perks we're focusing on now:
-We'll be together for the birth and the first 6 weeks afterwards. Huge perk considering how many dads in uniform watch their children's births over the internet or not at all.

-He will get three 3-week vacations during the year. That, plus the 6 weeks he's taking off after the baby is born, is almost four months off! He wouldn't get that much time off if we were staying here or going somewhere together.

-He would probably have to do an assignment like this at some point in his career. To be able to get it done in the year Blueberry won't even know he's gone is really a blessing. I can't imagine how much harder it would be a few years down the road with older/more kids.

-In my mind, P-tan is by far the best of the few of the places he could go by himself. The U.S. has had a presence there since 1947, and where he'll be working is huge, safe and well-equipped. Plus, he's super excited about the work he gets to do.

-He will have an advantage for his next assignment, which will of course include me and Blueberry!

-He gets to take Mocha! This is going to be great for all of us. I can't imagine trying to care for a new baby and a very active, needy dog in the winter, by myself. He will have a piece of home with him and his second biggest fan greeting him every day when he's done with work. He even met someone who's going there soon and is taking their lab and they've already agreed to take turns dog-sitting while the other is on vacations. And since Mocha's life revolves around John and food, she'll be as happy as a dog can be.

As for me, I'll be ok. I'll have a baby. I'll spend some time with my families in Texas and Oklahoma. I'll do some traveling. I'll get three 3-week vacations with my husband. I'll cry. I'll write. I'll take hundreds of pictures. I'll get comfortable on video chats. I'll learn and be stretched and grow (and hope to shrink a little bit, too!) in ways I never could've imagined.

I'm counting this a joy, not because it makes me happy and not because it will be so much fun, but because James 1:2-4 tells me to count trials (which I'm pretty sure this counts as) as joy because the testing of my faith produces patience, and patience has a perfect work to do, which will leave me lacking nothing. I think I'm going to need all of that for this next year!

(Oh, and you know I love comments, but please remember comments are searchable too!)

Mocha Love

Here's a funny story. Well it was funny to me and this is my blog. So there.

Mocha loves John more than just about anything. Definitely more than anyone else, but she proved last night that he is her favorite thing ever, too.

Before we feed her, we have her "down" at the entrance to the kitchen. That way, she's not all up in the food as we're getting it ready. She has to wait until told, "Mocha, come." Sometimes we'll tease her and just say "Mocha," but she still has to wait for the "come" command.

(reenactment)

Last night, I had her waiting there and got the food in her bowl, and then had a pregnancy moment (or probably just an Anna moment) and forgot about her. I was looking in the fridge for my own dinner to appear when I looked over and saw her waiting.

Just as I told her "come," the door (downstairs) opened and John came home from work.

I wish I could've captured how tortured and torn this poor dog was. Almost equidistant from her was her dinner, which she had been patiently waiting for (since breakfast), and her master, around whom her world spins. What to do, what to do?

She chose John. Sortof.

She ran about half-way down the stairs as I was laughingly explaining to John what was happening. I guess her expression told him everything so he was laughing too, so he took his time taking off his shoes and getting up the stairs. Meanwhile, she ran up and down to that half-way point, making sure the food was still there, then going to check on him.

When he finally made it up and was greeted properly, she allowed herself to come eat.

I, on the other hand, just kept looking in the fridge for my dinner. Clearly, I have my priorities straight!

Happy Friday!

Oh, would you be a hero to some special needs kids and go vote for them if you haven't already? My nephew's school is in the running for $500,000 from Kohl's, but the contest ends tonight at midnight (CST). They are providing him with a $30,000 education for absolutely nothing and run completely on donations. Winning this money would make a world of difference. See the September Love post for more info. Here's the link http://apps.facebook.com/kohlscares/. 

New Chapter

We started going to a new church about 3 months ago and have really been enjoying it. (I started this blog post 3 days ago and this is as far as I got. Not the best at multi-tasking right now!)


Last weekend, the sanctuary was getting worked on, so we had service in the park. Saturday night, a bunch of people from the church decided to camp in the park. We took Boy D, Mocha, a Jeep jammed with supplies and headed out.

We met tons of awesome new people. Well, I guess we're the new people, but still. We had been at our last church for almost 8 years and are still very close with alot of the people there and we love those pastors dearly, so we were praying for good connections and bonding with this new group. Prayers were answered!

It's interesting being the new people, though. And it's really interesting being the new people with a kid that nobody has seen you at church with and yet still looks kindof like you. With the babies, it was pretty obvious they weren't ours, and of course everyone at our last church knew about our "situation." The folks at the new church don't know the "us" who waited for years for a child. They just know the us with a baby on the way and a 5-yr-old foster child.

I loved watching and experiencing this Body embrace us and Boy D (and Mocha). I loved telling about our journey from infertility to foster care to now, loved sharing God's faithfulness and opening the door for hearing others' testimonies. It seemed that every other person had an experience with foster care and adoption, either their parents had done it when they were kids or it was a goal of theirs for their future.

It was sweet, too, watching Boy D taking pride and ownership of Mocha. She had basically adopted him, sleeping outside his door instead of ours and often I will find her cradling him and licking him like he is her puppy. She whines if he gets out of her line of sight too far and when he is upset, she gets anxious. So, at the campground, when the other kids would stop by to pet or admire her, Boy D jumped in to tell them all about her and encourage them to not be scared. I am so glad these two have each other!

Another thing that's been sweet to watch is the relationship with D and John. He thrives under male attention and John is so good at pouring it on. He has D help him with the Jeep and other manly chores and enthusiastically listens to his retelling of Thomas the Train's adventures. Every day. Some have mentioned (rightly so, I think) that they resemble each other.

(I think it's the ears!)

In closing, as challenging as this placement has been for me with the non-stop demands of a 5-yr-old boy and his emotional fragility, I am thankful for this new chapter in our lives. Nothing about our lives now would be as meaningful if it hadn't been for everything that's gone before and I know even now we are being readied for what's up ahead.

No closing question here, you have the night off. Feel free to comment, though!

"At least it's something to blog about"

I'll start this story with the end.

She's ok and almost back to her old self.

Now you can rest easy when I tell you the whole thing.

Friday night we found ourselves with no plans, no desire to cook and no reason not to go out to eat. So John loaded the baby in the car and I grabbed the diaper bag and headed out the door. Now, usually Mocha, our 5-yr-old chocolate lab, tries to come with us, but we block her exit and tell her no and slip out the door.

This time, however, she pushed past me and gleefully started her romp around our little neighborhood. It was still light out and lots of neighbors were outside, so we figured she would be more interested in meeting new people than running and we'd be able to catch her soon. We positioned ourselves where we could best watch her, because chasing her doesn't work. It was all fun and games until after about 10 minutes. I guess she got bored with our neighborhood and ran across the road.

I was standing where I could see her, but not catch her, so unfortunately I had a clear but helpless view of the incident.

She ran in front of a black Jaguar, which clipped her back end and sent her flying into the ditch. The car didn't even slow down and I screamed as I watched what I thought was my dog getting killed. I turned my head to scream for John, then looked back to where she had landed.

Miracles of miracles, my stupid, lucky dog was walking back across the road toward me. I yelled her name as yet another car was bearing down on her, so she ran the rest of the way right to me with her tail between her legs.

Several neighbors had heard both the thump of the hit and her yelp, so they came running with blankets and offers of help. John and some of the guys loaded her into the Jeep and I got in the car (where Baby Z was sleeping the whole time) and we raced to the Vet ER.

On the way I realized I have developed a new coping mechanism. Instead of freaking out when crisis hits, I start composing a blog in my head. I wrote this one a few times on the way to the vets.

As I kept replaying the scene of her getting hit and thrown into the ditch, the more I felt it, like it had actually happened to me. Then I remembered. It had happened to me.

Seven years ago I did a sprint triathlon. During the run portion, about a mile in, an elderly lady who was confused by the cones in the road and picked the wrong lane to drive in, struck me from behind, throwing me about 10 feet forward. Fortunately, I landed on my arm and only suffered a deep abrasion there as well as a torn ligament in my shin. I felt fine enough to get up and finish the race, then went to the ER out of concern a more serious injury was being masked by the adrenaline and endorphins. So, I got a great story and a big scar out of the ordeal.

(Crossing the finish line displaying injury that earned me the nickname "Road Kill")

Now I was experiencing it again and thinking of how just a few seconds would've made a world of difference on where she was hit and what would've happened. I was also replaying her escape, trying to think of what I could've done differently to keep her in, how we should get her some training on not running away, and hating the driver of the black Jaguar for not even slowing down.

Mocha, on the other hand, thought she was having a special ride with her master after getting lots of attention from her new friends. She walked cluelessly into the vets with only a slight limp, just wagging her tail and smiling like this was fun.

John was amazing the whole time, assuring me that he wasn't mad at me or blaming me for anything.

X-rays and an exam revealed nothing broken or busted. The vet released her with some pain meds and instructions on what to watch for.

(For only a few hundred dollars, we got a free CD with her x-ray shots)

Other than walking around stiffly, she is ok and almost back to her old self. She still follows me everywhere around the house. She still tries to get as close as possible at all times to either me or John and still tries to follow us out the door.

I think my husband is starting to understand the way I need to process things. While we were waiting for the verdict at the vets, he turned to me and said, "Well, at least it's something to blog about!"

(Oh, and so as not to leave you hanging on what we did for dinner, there was an Outback right next to the vet, so we got takeout. Yummy!)

The Dog Ate My Blog

Oldest excuse in the book, right?

(Jennifer, you probably don't want to read this one.)

(Jennifer is Mocha's previous owner.)

Even though Mocha (our new 4-yr-old chocolate lab) didn't technically eat my blog, she did eat up all the time I had to blog by going on a little run without me or her collar through the streets of my zip-code. A brown dog running in the road at dusk. Thinking it was a big game. Real fun.

I was just taking her for a quick potty break before I left for our last session of the Beth Moore Bible study, when she wrapped herself around a tree and got her collar off before I could do anything about it. And she was off.

In the right setting, it's a beautiful thing to watch this dog run. It usually makes me so happy, even to the point of rejoicing a little, that she can use her legs and lungs the way she was created. When she has boundaries, her freedom is healthy. When she doesn't, it isn't.

I won't take you on the fright fest that was the 30 minutes I spent chasing her across busy streets, through snowy yards in the wrong shoes, being told by strangers "You'd better catch her," and around dumpsters where she dined on things I'm pretty sure no living thing should ingest. I just cried and prayed that the same God who made the donkey talk to Balaam and the bear eat Elijah's tormenters would make my dog come back. And finally, the lure of the dumpster and some young girls who saw the action and came to help brought her close enough and still enough to grab. I said it then and I'll say it now. Thank you, Abba!

I got to the study late and we started late and finished late, so my blog tonight isn't what I planned about Baby F's mom and our growing relationship, but it's actually probably a better topic for tomorrow after our visitation. Until then, good night and watch out for dogs in the road.