Timeline, Part 1 - How it all got started

When we first got serious about pursuing adoption, we discussed starting a blog as a way to journal all of the proceedings that culminate with a new kiddo entering our family.  Of course, like most things, I kept putting it off but did demonstrate minimal common sense by writing a few things down in a word doc as time progressed.

Now that we have a blog set up, I want to go back and break up the timeline into several posts because, as you well know by now, I can get wordy and drift a little from the subject at hand.

So, here is the first part.  Enjoy.

Part 1

In a galaxy far, far away...
Back around the time Robby was born, I had a feeling in my heart that we were supposed to adopt. I believed then, as well as I do now, that it was God putting that on my heart. I love kids. I love them so much that I act like one of them most of the time.  I also proclaim to love God, but as a recent sermon asked, are you a disciple of Christ or are you an admirer of Christ.

As is typical with me whenever I feel God is asking me to do something, I try to ignore it and see if it'll go away.  I know that's not right, but it's exactly how I handled this feeling of adoption. I managed to put it off for nearly 5 years. I was clearly an admirer of Christ (I'm working on it!!).

April 20^th, 2010, Momma & I are headed for Mr. Robby’s kindergarten round-up.  We pile into the car for the excruciating 1/6 mile drive to the elementary school. 

So here we are, arriving at the school 29.3 seconds later. We go in and are immediately introduced to the principal who guides us in to the gymnasium/cafeteria full of metal folding chairs. We pick two chairs, in the middle of a row, roughly mid-way back through the rows from the front of the room.  I suspect that probably says something about us but I have no idea what that might be. 

We’re sitting there talking and I’m cracking myself up with jokes and one-liners in an effort to pass the time. You see, I hate waiting. HATE IT! 

Waiting in a restaurant for food?  Hate it.

Waiting in the doctors office? Hate it.

Waiting in line at the grocery store check outs? Hate it.  In fact, I really hate this one because I can never figure out why I pick the most dreadful line to be in. I’ll walk by several lines and select one with very few people in it and those people do not have extravagantly filled grocery carts so it should be hard to lose here.

Right?

Wrong.  Longer lines will have filed all of their people through 2 or 3 times over and I’ll still be there waiting for some lady (I say lady because I haven’t noticed a guy writing a check in a grocery store for a LONG time, although feel free to correct me if I'm wrong) to START WRITING HER CHECK when the cashier gives her the total!  Why do people do that? Then, they always have the nerve to smile at you when you start groaning audibly. Madness. Did you forget what your name and what day it is? Did it magically come back to you when you heard the total amount of your purchase?

And I especially love it when their pen won’t work on top of that!!  That’s pure GOLD!  They try, in a seemingly endless pattern of little curly-q’s with their pen, to get it to write sometimes stating, “This silly thing just worked when I signed for my prescriptions!” while trying again. And again.

The cashier stands there blindly staring into space instead of offering up a different pen. Then it happens… She grabs her compact-car sized purse to look for another pen! 

Sweet Maria, could this be any more ridiculous?

Turns out that yes, it can! 

You finally get your turn and the cashier non-chalantly asks you, “Hi. How’re ya doing?”. 

Seriously?!  I’ve got a finger stuck in the hole in my forehead where the vein popped and I’m nearly a year older!!! 

“Good! You?”, I reply in my most animated voice. 

I hate waiting… more on this in later parts of the timeline.

For real this time, back to the story.

We’re sitting there, Lesley’s listening to me complain about the waiting, and she says, “Be thankful we only have to do this once.”.  In response, I say, "We could adopt.". To my utter surprise and amazement, she responds, “I could be talked into that.”!! 

Hmmmmmmm…