SAHM I am (18 page)

Wow—evidently he’d been doing a bit more than just “thinking” about this. He was serious! “From where, then?”

“Ethiopia.”

Now I really did jump! “You gotta be kidding! What if they have AIDS? I don’t think I could handle that. I’m not that heroic.”

“There are those who do not have AIDS. And they are the ones we will adopt.”

“Will?” I shot him a didn’t-you-learn-your-lesson-yet look and he shrugged.

“If we decide to.”

“Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

He wiggled around in the seat so he could reach his carryon and pulled out a folder marked “Adoption Info.” He handed it to me and said, “I will take a nap now. You may read what I have found on the Internet.”

And he settled a travel pillow around his neck and was asleep before I’d barely opened the folder. Either that, or he was playing possum like a pro.

At first, I just thumbed through the pages, hardly reading any of it. It just seemed like such a ridiculous idea. I’d always heard that international adoption is a mess of red tape, paperwork and government corruption. But then an article caught my eye. It was about one of the adoption agencies that work in Ethiopia and all the children in their orphanage. I read about how they learn to speak English and learn about American customs just so that they’ll be ready to be adopted by an American family. And how most of them lost loving, devoted parents due to disease or starvation. How their partner orphanage for the HIV-positive kids spends all its time loving these children, only to have them die in a matter of years because there’s no money for medicine to help them.

And I started to cry. I bawled and bawled, and at some point, Tristan woke up and put his arms around me and held me. “I knew you would feel the same way,” he said. “I knew they would capture your heart as they did mine.”

So, to make this long story a bit shorter, we are going to adopt from Ethiopia. We’re going to take two or three if we can, or a sibling group. The kids don’t really understand it all
yet, but they think it’s a great idea. I’m not quite sure where the money is going to come from, but if I have to get a job, I will. Tristan seems to think we can cover most of it out of his paycheck if we cut out a few extras.

I’m getting so excited just writing about it to you all! I can’t even begin to describe all the emotions whirling around in my heart! This is so right. It’s like God had it all planned from the beginning—which of course He did. But He gave me a glimpse of the plan today, and it’s so indescribably incredible.

Have a blessed, wonderful Christmas, dear, sweet friends!

Z

Dulcie,

I can’t help it! I just CANNOT be happy for Z right now. I feel this horrible, jealous hurt inside. Why does she get a supportive husband who is PUSHING for an adoption when I can’t even get mine to THINK about it? And why does God let her have another kid, or two, or three, when she’s already got THREE of her own? I just have one! And I’ve pleaded and begged Him to let us have even just one more, but does He do it? NO! He gives them to HER instead!

And I don’t even know your friend Marianne. But when I heard she was pregnant, I just hated her! I’m turning into this horrible, hateful person, and I can’t stand it! Why can’t Darren be reasonable? I just want a baby. That’s all. Just one
little, cuddly, squirmy child. Why is God giving them away to everyone except me?

Okay, okay, I know I’m whining. But it just makes me so angry! I think I’m going to go out for a walk and cool down. Kick some large trees, while I’m at it.

Merry stinkin’ Christmas.

Brenna

Hi Brenna,

Even though it’s Christmas Eve and I’m expecting Tom to arrive anytime, I had to take a minute and write back to you. Please help me know what to say to you. I don’t want to hurt you. In fact, I’m a bit angry for you! It’s so not fair. I wish I could do something to make it right. And I just bet Z would feel the same way if she knew all the stuff you and Darren are dealing with. She’d be mad at herself for making an announcement that hurt you, and she’d be mad at Darren for not “getting with the program,” and she’d be mad that this is happening to a friend she cares about.

And I’m sorry that my post about Marianne made it worse. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive. Please don’t let all this make you bitter. I just know somehow God has a plan that will make everything better. Try to have a good Christmas, please.

You are in my prayers, dear friend,

Dulcie

You’re right…I know my attitude is rotten. It just hit me all at once, you know? The walk helped some. And then Madeline showed me a picture she drew of me, her and Darren. She’d labeled it “My Famly” (her spelling). I felt bad for griping about “only” having one child. She’s my treasure. Sometimes I’m such an ungrateful jerk. I’m glad you all love me anyway.

Merry *Sweet* Christmas,

Brenna

Happy Boxing Day, Z! I hope you are having a good visit with Tristan’s family after all. :)

I know you all were interested to find out if Tom and I ever had our talk about the KC Christmas party fiasco. Well, the answer is…not exactly. Tom got home Christmas Eve, and we went to church and had our normal Baby Jesus birthday party at home afterward. After the children went to bed, we assembled the play kitchen we’d gotten them. Then, we sat on the love seat in front of the fireplace and watched the flames by the light of the Christmas tree.

“Know something?” Tom said, after we’d been quiet for a bit. “I hate KC.”

I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say. “Why?”

He didn’t respond for a while. Then he said, “It’s not home.”

“Well, your contract ends in March.”

He actually took my hand! He used to do that all the time—we’d sit around and he’d smooth the back of my hand with his thumb. Hasn’t happened for ages. “Yeah, and then off somewhere else. Alaska, I think. They’re working on a one-year contract for me in Anchorage.”

I froze. I couldn’t believe how spineless I was all of a sudden. Here was the opportunity I’d been waiting for for months—to ask him to get a local job. And I couldn’t do it! “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

He sorta shrugged. “It’s what was available.”

“You could…always check into openings here in Omaha.”

“If you want me to.”

For some reason, that irritated me so much. “Who said anything about what I want? It’s your career. What do YOU want?”

“I don’t know.”

Okay, I admit—I blew it. Led him right into the wife-trap. “What do you mean, you don’t know? Don’t you want to be home with us?”

He let go of my hand. “Of course I do.”

“You don’t sound like it.”

“Look, you always act like you think I enjoy being gone all the time. I don’t, okay? But it’s what I do. Programming is the only thing I’m good at, and consulting jobs pay a whole lot more than anything in town.”

That took the starch out of me. “Do you…
like
programming?”

“It’s okay.” He sort of leaned away from me, in order to see me better or something. “I don’t have any other skills.”

“I could care less about the money, you know.”

“It’s not the money. It’s…” He scowled and shook his head, eyes downcast. “Sometimes what you know—even if it’s not great—is better than the unfamiliar.”

“What are you talking about?”

He stared off into space, and it was like I couldn’t reach to wherever his mind was. “I never expected to have a real home. Someplace stable…dependable. You don’t know what it’s like—a broken family, a mom who is gone more than she’s home, a dad you’re ashamed to talk about. You’ve given me everything I never had, and it’s sort of like when Morris got that computer for Mom. She was thrilled about it and scared to death of it, all at the same time.”

I didn’t know what to say. Wasn’t even sure what he meant.

Then he grabbed my hand again. “I’ll look for a job in town, okay?”

I just nodded and snuggled up to him. Since I was feeling brave suddenly, I whispered, “Are we okay, Tom?”

He kissed me a long time and then said, “Yeah.”

So I don’t know what it all means, except that he promised to make KC the last long-distance consulting gig he does. Come the end of March, my honey’s staying home! I won’t be alone anymore! :)

Here’s to a Happy New Year, everyone!

Dulcie

Happy New Year, Special SAHMs!

This week’s topic is a SAHM I Am tradition—Goal Setting. For those of you who are new to our little community, I always like to reiterate my standard sermon on “setting goals” versus “making resolutions.” I do NOT believe in making New Year’s resolutions. It is a waste of time and serves to produce only guilt and a performance-oriented mind-set. But Christ has set us free from condemnation and a works-based religion!

Instead, as sanctified people, we here at SAHM I Am believe in setting goals—based on Godly principles of industry and desiring to press forward in our Christian walk.

So, let’s share this week what our goals are for the coming year. And remember, a GOAL is specific, attainable and measurable.

Here are MY goals for this year:

This is actually just a small sample from my fifty-item list. But I didn’t want to seem like I was calling attention to myself, so I simply chose to share some of my smaller goals. Suzannah and Jefferson each made their own list this year, too. They are such purposeful little darlings! I kept having to remind them that, at least at their age, achieving world peace was a dream, not a goal.

Be purposeful,

Rosalyn Ebberly

SAHM I Am Loop Moderator

My goal this year is just to be more organized! It’s always so hard getting back into a routine after the holidays.

Dulcie

Tsk, tsk, Dulcie. That is NOT a goal. It’s a dream. A very distant dream, for you, I’m afraid. LOL! Let’s try again, shall we? :)

Blessings and joy to you all,

Rosalyn Ebberly

SAHM I AM Loop Moderator

By December 31st of this year, I will have Tom teach me how to program computers so that I can create a nasty, horrible virus that will invade Rosalyn’s computer and make it so that every time she tries to open her e-mail program, all she will get is a grinning, leering picture of ME surrounded by all my disorganized, inefficient clutter and normal, non-genius children.

Dulcie