Morning is both the most insightful and deceitful of times for me. For example, this morning, I awoke quite refreshed, though sore (darn these New England snow storms), and thoughtful. I realized that this is the perfect opportunity to work through these thoughts and begin our blog cataloging our adoption ups and downs...
The first thing I did this morning as I woke, after yawning of course, was to thank God for all that he's given me over these past ten years. The major things that come to mind (though certainly not all) are these: the woman and now wife of my dreams, Emily; a fantastic and growing relationship with Him; a loving and caring church family; a home, complete with pets; and a sense of satisfaction with it all....
Then other thoughts began to creep in. Thoughts like: holy crap, what the heck am I doing? My life is good right now just as it is. Everything is nice and safe and predictable and stable. Why the heck would I want to mess all of this up with the importation of a foreign national (albeit 4 years old) into my household? Say goodbye to the good life. The freedom youngish non-parental couples have to rush off without a moments hesitation to Paris (or in our case, New Hampshire)will be gone.
Goodbye to all of those times when we made fun of our parentally burdened friends for their woes and tribulations. Emily and I were diving headfirst into those very shark-infested waters which we not all that long ago thankfully viewed from a safe distance. We aren't even forming a family the way all of our friends did (you know, the "natural" way). If we did that, we'd at least have the relative predictability of DNA on our sides. The way we are creating this family has all kinds of hazards: for all we know, our son will have some difficult inherent tendencies: bed wetting, emotional distress, a need to overthrow any and all existing authority structures etc...
This all seems utterly irresponsible to my barely awakened intellect. There are responsibilities to be considered. Did we discuss this matter with anyone else living in our house? No. How is our dog of dubious heritage going to take this Chinese invasion? Will he be alright sharing the affection with a new two footed creature with rights he (our dog) never had, like having uninhibited access to all of those wondrous people foods on the kitchen table? Will he be alright with the poking, grabbing petting which more resembles a sound beating? How will he deal with the crying and fussing a carrying-on that accompanies such a big change? What happens when the child and not just me has those issues. Will it be too much for simple canine sanity?
Then there's the other life form already occupying the household to be considered. What about our mentally retarded cat? I'm not joking;; our cat's about as smart as a box of rocks. Her eyes cross in opposite directions (disturbing), her tongue hangs out because she hasn't the God-given sense to keep the stupid thing in her mouth. She can't choose to meow. What I mean by that is one day she was yawning and a sound came out, quite accidentally. Our once mute feline resident does in fact have the power to vocalize, she just has no idea how it's done. Sometimes she opens her mouth and nothing comes out; sometimes she sounds like a strangled chipmunk, sometimes the sound is closer to an ambulance siren; and very occasionally, it sounds like a cat. She's as surprised as we are when it happens. This cat chooses the most precarious of places to lay down, which wouldn't be all that bad if she kept awake and retained balance, but she doesn't. The fool thing perches like a mentally deficient eagle atop the craggiest crest in the house, falls asleep, and then falls. This beast then has the nerve to look offended and indignant that she just fell! How will a creature with no natural sense, instinct or intelligence ever deal with the insanity of a child in the home? She's crazy enough as it is: will we have to put her into a drug induced coma just so she can coexist with the boy? She's already on kitty Prozac, (I kid you not my friends, it's the truth). It seems the regularity of day to day life is too much for this fragile feline to handle. Any change in her life's routine (litter box not clean enough, new food, the same food, too much noise, too quiet, etc.) and her unnatural defenses kick in. This involves finding any object of mine which is easily accessible, and peeing on it. I don't mean to be gross, but cat urine stinks, and why she thinks all of life's injustices done to her are my fault and therefore deserving of a thorough dowsing is beyond me.
So with one swift and calculate decision, five lives will be in a state of upheaval - 4 residents currently and one Chinese national, soon to be American (Mainer specifically).
I am at this point completely terrified and anxious. Are we being as foolish as our retarded, balance-challenged, semi-mute and selectively incontinent cat? Is it too late to pull out of this mess, before things get worse?
Then a still quiet voice creeps into my head: God. "It's going to be all right" he says. "Who directed you to this decision? Who brought you to this place in your life? Who showed you this beautiful little boy in the first place? Adoption is a wonderful and blessed thing. Have I ever disappointed you? Let me work wonders in your life though him, Jason, and be amazed with what is ahead of you. Trust in Me."
It's amazing what the right perspective can do for your sense of well being. This whole venture from the beginning was directed by God. I can rest and have peace in that very thing.
Soon my eyes become heavy again and I begin to drift off into sleep, wrapping my arms around Emily. The chaos and clashing in my head is gone. My mind is blessedly free from distractions. Then I fell back asleep to the sounds of my dog snoring and a wheezing catlike creature, probably looking for a reason to pee on my stuff.
Everything is going to be just fine.
The first thing I did this morning as I woke, after yawning of course, was to thank God for all that he's given me over these past ten years. The major things that come to mind (though certainly not all) are these: the woman and now wife of my dreams, Emily; a fantastic and growing relationship with Him; a loving and caring church family; a home, complete with pets; and a sense of satisfaction with it all....
Then other thoughts began to creep in. Thoughts like: holy crap, what the heck am I doing? My life is good right now just as it is. Everything is nice and safe and predictable and stable. Why the heck would I want to mess all of this up with the importation of a foreign national (albeit 4 years old) into my household? Say goodbye to the good life. The freedom youngish non-parental couples have to rush off without a moments hesitation to Paris (or in our case, New Hampshire)will be gone.
Goodbye to all of those times when we made fun of our parentally burdened friends for their woes and tribulations. Emily and I were diving headfirst into those very shark-infested waters which we not all that long ago thankfully viewed from a safe distance. We aren't even forming a family the way all of our friends did (you know, the "natural" way). If we did that, we'd at least have the relative predictability of DNA on our sides. The way we are creating this family has all kinds of hazards: for all we know, our son will have some difficult inherent tendencies: bed wetting, emotional distress, a need to overthrow any and all existing authority structures etc...
This all seems utterly irresponsible to my barely awakened intellect. There are responsibilities to be considered. Did we discuss this matter with anyone else living in our house? No. How is our dog of dubious heritage going to take this Chinese invasion? Will he be alright sharing the affection with a new two footed creature with rights he (our dog) never had, like having uninhibited access to all of those wondrous people foods on the kitchen table? Will he be alright with the poking, grabbing petting which more resembles a sound beating? How will he deal with the crying and fussing a carrying-on that accompanies such a big change? What happens when the child and not just me has those issues. Will it be too much for simple canine sanity?
Then there's the other life form already occupying the household to be considered. What about our mentally retarded cat? I'm not joking;; our cat's about as smart as a box of rocks. Her eyes cross in opposite directions (disturbing), her tongue hangs out because she hasn't the God-given sense to keep the stupid thing in her mouth. She can't choose to meow. What I mean by that is one day she was yawning and a sound came out, quite accidentally. Our once mute feline resident does in fact have the power to vocalize, she just has no idea how it's done. Sometimes she opens her mouth and nothing comes out; sometimes she sounds like a strangled chipmunk, sometimes the sound is closer to an ambulance siren; and very occasionally, it sounds like a cat. She's as surprised as we are when it happens. This cat chooses the most precarious of places to lay down, which wouldn't be all that bad if she kept awake and retained balance, but she doesn't. The fool thing perches like a mentally deficient eagle atop the craggiest crest in the house, falls asleep, and then falls. This beast then has the nerve to look offended and indignant that she just fell! How will a creature with no natural sense, instinct or intelligence ever deal with the insanity of a child in the home? She's crazy enough as it is: will we have to put her into a drug induced coma just so she can coexist with the boy? She's already on kitty Prozac, (I kid you not my friends, it's the truth). It seems the regularity of day to day life is too much for this fragile feline to handle. Any change in her life's routine (litter box not clean enough, new food, the same food, too much noise, too quiet, etc.) and her unnatural defenses kick in. This involves finding any object of mine which is easily accessible, and peeing on it. I don't mean to be gross, but cat urine stinks, and why she thinks all of life's injustices done to her are my fault and therefore deserving of a thorough dowsing is beyond me.
So with one swift and calculate decision, five lives will be in a state of upheaval - 4 residents currently and one Chinese national, soon to be American (Mainer specifically).
I am at this point completely terrified and anxious. Are we being as foolish as our retarded, balance-challenged, semi-mute and selectively incontinent cat? Is it too late to pull out of this mess, before things get worse?
Then a still quiet voice creeps into my head: God. "It's going to be all right" he says. "Who directed you to this decision? Who brought you to this place in your life? Who showed you this beautiful little boy in the first place? Adoption is a wonderful and blessed thing. Have I ever disappointed you? Let me work wonders in your life though him, Jason, and be amazed with what is ahead of you. Trust in Me."
It's amazing what the right perspective can do for your sense of well being. This whole venture from the beginning was directed by God. I can rest and have peace in that very thing.
Soon my eyes become heavy again and I begin to drift off into sleep, wrapping my arms around Emily. The chaos and clashing in my head is gone. My mind is blessedly free from distractions. Then I fell back asleep to the sounds of my dog snoring and a wheezing catlike creature, probably looking for a reason to pee on my stuff.
Everything is going to be just fine.
2 comments:
That is a great picture that you chose for the top of the blog. I don't know who was the photographer, but perhaps you should consider purchasing them a ticket to China so they could document the trip with their exquisite photography skills.
Actually, the photographer was a complete incompetent fool who kept blinding himself because not only did he hold the camera backwards most of the time, but he kept putting his eye up to the flash just before it went off. Every time he took a picture and the flash would go off, he'd scream "bright light, bright light! and nearly drop the camera as he ran in circles. It was nothing short of a miracle of nature that a proper picture ever got taken. But then as they say, even a blind squirrel finds a nut once in a while...
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