Toys for boys

What is it about men and toys? Do they never lose the little-boy gene? This past weekend I was dragging my husband through the Old Port trying to get Christmas ideas. Well, I say "dragging", but since we were looking at gifts for little ones, he was really quite happy to wander - trancelike - around Treehouse Toys for a good part of the afternoon.

Automoblox C9-R sportscar

Gazing with awe at the Playmobil and Haba sets and the Automoblox cars he said, "Look at all the cool stuff we can get for the baby...."

For the baby???

Only a man (boy) would be more excited about the TOYS in his future than his maybe-soon-to-be SON.

hmmmmmmm.

Baby Art 101

Douglas Florian - The Monster Motel

I have had way too much time (read: years) to think about and plan baby's room. Not knowing, at first, whether we'd have a little boy or a girl, we painted the walls a creamy white with bright white trim. So we needed some gender-neutral color accents. As a primary-age teacher I knew I wanted to incorporate the art/illustration from children's books I have amassed over the years. The frieze of animal block prints over baby's crib (see previous post) were made from pages of the beautiful book Teeth, Tails & Tentacles by Christopher Wormell, cut to fit

square Ribba frames from Ikea. The vibrant colors - turquoise, orange, spring green, brown - are a beautiful contrast to both the stark black of the woodcut outlines and the paleness of the wall.

Another favorite children's author/illustrator of mine is Douglas Florian. His paintings and poems are so inviting and fun for kids (and grown-ups). He has published more than 30 wonderful books.

Waiting for baby

Waiting, waiting. It is hard to be patient; it is hard not to know what the final outcome of this period will be. With any luck, in a matter of months, weeks - our beautiful, healthy baby boy will be snuggling in his crib in his happy little room. But what if???? In Florida, birthparents have 48 hours after birth to decide to keep their baby or not. Compared to Maine, where this period is extended for months - even after the child's placement in an adoptive home - we are fortunate. But where does that leave us now? Wondering, worrying, waiting - and hoping that fate is on our side and this particular baby will indeed be ours.

But what if the birthmother does change her mind? We know from experience that this can and does happen. I've spoken to couples whose adoptions fell through multiple times.

Of course, they say now, "none of that matters - we have our child(ren) and it all happened the way it was meant to...."

Now, throughout this process, I have been trying to embrace the idea that "our" baby will come to us when s/he is ready, when the planets align, the moon and stars are in fortuitous union and the sun shines down on us just so. But it is unbearably hard at times, because ultimately we have no control.

Just hope.

Adopting we will go

We are adopting, have been trying to adopt, have read and researched about adoption, met and talked with others regarding adoption - for more than five years now. So far we have been unsuccessful, first trying to adopt in Maine (where no one seems to be giving up their babies these days), then exploring foreign adoption (too risky, too much travel, too much strife in the countries that interested us). Then we changed to a high-priced domestic agency in Florida, met with them, gave them a not-so-small chunk of change, made our "book" and were told they expected our wait time would be minimal. That was this past spring, and they now no longer answer my calls or emails...

Serendipitously, in August we were connected with a Florida law firm through a neighbor of my sister's and we ALMOST got a baby, but a supposedly non-existent birthfather appeared and within hours of booking our flights, our baby was no longer our baby. Which, of course, is sad, but the ride was a thrill and it put us on top of the waiting list at the law firm.

And now there is another tiny little light at the end of the tunnel called baby q.

Due on February 11th, we still have a ways to go until calling him our own, but it's hard not to get our (my) hopes up. (As far as John is concerned, until that baby is in our arms and we are leaving the hospital, he is not quite our baby. I, of course, love him already.)

So we head to Florida next month to meet the birthmom, Rachel. It is exciting, it is nervewracking, it is stomach-churning, it is life-changing. Even now before it happens, it has rocked my world. I am phantom-gestating - queasy (however do women put up with morning sickness?@!*), emotional, nesting like a maniac. If there is a wall or piece of molding that needs painting, I am painting it. I am emptying closets, organizing "stuff", exclaiming with a multitude of curses each new pile of "stuff" I discover, sorting and filing endless papers, reading old letters, trying my best to read a new book every day since every mom I know has given up reading. I have been pulling out vinyl from the 80s and reliving my musical youth while ironing sheets and pillowcases.

Crazy. I guess I'll get used to that, eventually. Right?