2 little whos

Princess Bee was given a celebration on Sunday. Photos were put in an album for her, photos of people wanting to meet her, photos of her new family, of new friends and neighbors, people who maybe even already love her. One friend mailed hers in since she doesn't live in our state. Her daughter, here over a year from Ethiopia, drew this picture for us.

2 little whos
by e.e. cummings

2 little whos
(he and she)
under are this
wonderful tree

smiling stand
all realms of where
and when beyond
now and here

far from a grown
up-i&you-
ful world of known
who and who

(2 little arms
and over them this
aflame with dreams
incredible is)

In the friends department? I am blessed more than anyone I know.

The Best Video on the Internet

Just for spring cleaning time.

"My name is Peter Pan," he told her.

"Yes, I know."

"I came back for my mother," he explained, "to take her to the Neverland."

"Yes, I know," Jane said, "I have been waiting for you."

When Wendy returned diffidently she found Peter sitting on the bed-post crowing gloriously, while Jane in her nighty was flying round the room in solemn ecstasy.

"She is my mother," Peter explained; and Jane descended and stood by his side, with the look in her face that he liked to see on ladies when they gazed at him.

"He does so need a mother," Jane said.

"Yes, I know." Wendy admitted rather forlornly; "no one knows it so well as I."

"Good-bye," said Peter to Wendy; and he rose in the air, and the shameless Jane rose with him; it was already her easiest way of moving about.

Wendy rushed to the window.

"No, no," she cried.

"It is just for spring cleaning time," Jane said, "he wants me always to do his spring cleaning."

"If only I could go with you," Wendy sighed.

"You see you can't fly," said Jane.

Of course in the end Wendy let them fly away together. Our last glimpse of her shows her at the window, watching them receding into the sky until they were as small as stars.

As you look at Wendy, you may see her hair becoming white, and her figure little again, for all this happened long ago. Jane is now a common grown-up, with a daughter called Margaret; and every spring cleaning time, except when he forgets, Peter comes for Margaret and takes her to the Neverland, where she tells him stories about himself, to which he listens eagerly. When Margaret grows up she will have a daughter, who is to be Peter's mother in turn; and thus it will go on, so long as children are gay and innocent and heartless.

--J. M. Barrie

Nevermind

Forget that thing I said about spring.

Celebrations

It's been 105 days since Gladney called us with news of Little B. We've celebrated Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, my birthday, and Valentine's Day.

Some friends are hosting a celebration on Sunday of this little girl. One friend with a daughter about the same age told me today that maybe they could come over soon to look through all the things we have for her already to help us see where we're lacking. We are lacking a court date.

Please if you see me in person, know that I am promising you now to tell you if we have a court date. Maybe I will print the date on a t-shirt and wear it every day. When I hear the question, "So you have you heard anything?" I get a sinking feeling and want to stare out windows.

This post is beautiful. This woman is a very good mother, one I hope to be like. This adoption stuff is an up and down road, for everyone, but maybe least of all for the adoptive parents. I bemoan how slowly this part of the process is progressing. I know I will want to celebrate when we get a court date, but I also know that B might not always want to celebrate this part of her life. Thank you, Sharon, for reminding me of that.

What We Need to Live

At dinner tonight, we're talking about what happens if one stops eating. In Abe's mind, food=growth, so if you stop eating, you just stop growing. Ted, the pragmatist, tells him that if we stop eating, we will eventually die.

Ted says, "We need air, water, food...and love," followed by a purposely cheesy giggle.

After seeing Rabbit Hole, I have an even deeper appreciation of children remaining firmly planted on yards and sidewalks. I add to the conversation, "And we need not running into streets to stay alive too."

Abe shakes his head as if I'm an idiot. He puts his fork down and says, "Mom. That won't make you die. That will just make you flat."

Pause.

Ted and I look at each other.

He finishes the conversation by shaking his head with another bite of his dinner, "That's just how life goes."

Hope

This time of year, people around these parts start talking about the weather. Just a couple of weeks ago, spring seemed too far away to discuss. By the end of February though, we keep getting glimpses of hope.

(thanks for the photo, Jillian)