Forty and Four Hundred

Gestation Periods:

Mice—19 days

Prairie dog—33 to 38 days

Mountain Lion—95 days

Black bear—215 days

Orangutan—270 days

Sperm Whale—480-500 days

I was hoping to have a great update by now.  I was hoping to shout L-O-A, but I can’t.  Adopting is apparently most like giving birth to a whale (no wonder I've put on a few pounds!).  Our paperwork, and our baby girl sit, just waiting to get shuffled along.  It’s been seventy days since we saw her face for the first time and nearly burst with love for someone we’ve yet to meet.

Today is 40 days of waiting for our LOA, and nearly 400 days in process for this adoption.  Four hundred days of thinking of our baby every day.  Forty days of thinking “this could be the day that we can begin counting down to our Forever Family Day.” 

Remember when you were a kid and you COULD.NOT.WAIT for your birthday, or Christmas, or whatever the most special holiday was in your family?  As we get older, it’s easy to forget how long those few weeks seemed.  It’s easy for me to tell my kids, “it’ll be here before you know it.”  Well, here I am again, feeling five years old, thinking each day is taking FOREVER. 

Forty is such an interesting number.  It’s repeated over and over in Christian, Jewish, and Muslim scripture, and it is always related to trial, a time of change, or maturity.   In ancient times, a solar year was counted in 40 day cycles.  It has been a trial to live outside of rules and estimates, and any semblance of “fairness.”  There is simply no real way to tell when the paperwork might get done.  Predicting (guessing) and being wrong only makes it more painful.  It has been a time of maturity for our family, and me specifically, as we get sister’s room ready and I answer the oft repeated question from her brothers of “when, Mama, when?” 

I wrote at the beginning of this process about being taken to the end of myself, over and over, and knowing the reality of “too much” was really God’s way of growing me in places I would never have predicted.  Well, I’m growing.  I officially have stretch marks on my soul.  Now please, please let it be soon. 

And for those of you who have so patiently followed along and encouraged us, here’s a peek into the room we’re working on (it's a lighter pink in person and I haven't finished figuring out the artwork for her walls)…

The Case for Santa

“Mom, do you have Santa’s address?”  So cute, but not what you think…I’ll get back to this later….

We live in the land of excess.  It’s a fact.  If you are an American, you have too much.  You throw away more food than some ever get.  We turn on a faucet and have clean, hot water come gushing forth.  That’s luxury.  It also makes us spoiled.

So, when I see some who shun big glittery Christmases, I can understand.  When I read articles about how to teach your child to ask for gifts of time, or how to get their Christmas list down to three things, I feel pretty good that maybe we’re not as morally corrupt as generations before us seem to think we might be.  My children know, unequivocally, that we celebrate Christmas as the day Jesus was born.  But, Santa, well, Santa is here to stay in this house.

You can lecture me about how Santa is a Coca-Cola construct, or how we’ve moved away from the tradition of Saint Nicholas merely bringing one nice thing, or filling a stocking, but you won’t change my mind.  I’ve wondered, for years, if we were ruining our children, “lying” to them, letting them think nice things come from nothing. 

Two little boys changed this Mama’s mind.  These two boys believe in fairies, and leprechauns, and seem to believe “Jack Frost” is a real guy out there somewhere with a giant frozen paintbrush.  And they love every second of it.  They are willing to believe that there are things out there that they don’t fully understand, and that those things are beautiful and wonderful.  They have faith in things unseen. 

(I know, this is the part where I get in trouble). 

They believe, because they can see “fairy dust” that the tooth fairy spills.  They believe because they see the frozen patterns Jack Frost leaves. They believe because Santa leaves them at least one gift that was exactly what they asked for (even in a whisper).   They believe with a sweet faith.  If you never believe in anything bigger than mankind, with the innocence of a child, how do you begin to wrap your head around something bigger than yourself later?  Where do you get faith muscles?  NO, I’m not saying you must teach your children about Santa if you want them to believe in God--PLEASE don’t write to me about how blasphemous I am!  I simply think it’s a lovely bridge into talking about getting things we haven’t earned, and believing in things that we can’t prove. 

This year, for the first time, I heard, “Mom, do you have Santa’s address?”  I figured they’re both old enough to write actual Christmas lists and letters, my careful and practical little boy probably wants to make sure we know where to send it before he goes through all of that effort.  I was wrong.  When I asked why, he said, “Well, Santa makes all of the presents.  He delivers them to children all over the world.  And no one sends him any.  I’d like to send Santa a Christmas present.”  It took me a minute to recover….then we had a lovely discussion about what we could send to a guy who has everything and could make anything he wanted to play with or use.  We talked about how God gives us everything, and the only thing we can give him back is ourselves, our love.  What could Santa not give himself?  He couldn't give himself a drawing that was hand made by my sweet boy, a piece of himself.  (Or twenty such drawings...we're still working on it!)

My little one believes that Santa leaves gifts on Christmas Eve, something he cannot prove.  He is inspired by the selfless way that Santa gives, and figured out through that inspiration that his heart, time, and talents are the best gifts he can give.  Along the way, we got to have a discussion about the gifts that God gives.  The case for Santa is a good one, if you can use it to guide young hearts and not just spoil them rotten.