stuck already

I haven't even waded all the way back in, and I am in quick-sand.

I think of posting on the blog several times a day. One of the kids will say or do something, or I'll have a memory flash, or I'll be pondering an important or unimportant matter. And I'll think, "Now there's something to write about." Plus there's all the other stuff I intend to jot down here, too, the stuff of "my story." Honestly, if I had an obsession, it would be writing. Or the desire to do so.

While I'm painting or doing laundry or tending to Ahna or whatever, I'll actually form the paragraphs in my head. It will all sound so good. The title will come to me, then I will just begin to write. In my head.

And once I come to the computer, it all goes away. Or at least becomes muddled. Nonsensical.

So I'm trying to figure ME out. How it is I'm going to actually get the words on the paper (rather, on the computer screen).

Because I do intend to. I am resolved.

The end. of this post.

what are you up to?

I'm listening to Ahna sing in her crib via the monitor, while she tries to get to sleep. Twinkle Twinkle is her favorite lately, and though her words aren't quite clear yet, her tune is impeccable. So sweet.

And I'm painting. Because of one new couch, I have felt the need to repaint 3 rooms. They're all sort-of connected and of one color scheme, so it is necessary. I've been ready to change the color of those rooms, anyway, so the couch has given me enough of a reason to get the project started.

And as with many of my projects, I am S L O W at seeing progress. I am ok with that, though, and am trying not to be in too big a hurry. Which is a good thing, since I do have two-year old Ahna playing and dancing around me at every turn.

Putting a fresh coat of primer on the brick red hue, I also notice traces of the pink color that was there when we first moved in 4 years ago. Yes, pink. Girly pink, in a dining room and living room. Go figure. Needless to say, my husband was not moving into the house until the pink was gone. Or covered up. Funny to think about that, since at the time we didn't have the foggiest idea that we'd be seeing lots of 'pink' in the years to come, only in a different room of the house - Ahna's room.

SLOW progress. I see it in many areas of my life:

1. My decorating venture.

2. My attempt at being a consistent blogger.

3. Decisions to be made regarding the education of our children. This coming school year. I know, it's August already.

4. Being more physically fit through diet and exercise.

5. Living joyfully, in the mundane. My personal motto for the last several days has been, "Do it ALL joyfully, and then see what happens." The ALL being the laundry, tending to the wet towels on the carpet, the piles of dirty clothes that aren't in a basket, the dishes in the sink that I didn't put there, etc. etc.

I really think the "see what happens" may only be in my own personal attitude, but that will be enough. And to keep it real, I need quite a few attitude shifts in my life.

Slow progress. But I'll get there.

About the blog: my plan is to post a few photos of Ahna from the last year, until we're caught up to the present time. The ones below are from October 2008. In the second photo, she could barely stand on her own. I would steady her, then snap a photo quickly, before she fell. She had gone from scooting around on her belly, though, to crawling very well (at around 14 months). By the end of November 2008, she was taking her first steady steps (17 months). The strength in her legs increased daily, as she was allowed mobility and exercise. Now, she hardly ever stops running.

one year ago

This is the beginning of my attempt to be back in the blogging community. No promises, just a real desire to come here and vent and visit, to check in on friends made here. And to give those of you who still pop in here every day (you know who you are) a reason to come. You deserve to be given a glimse.

(why are those words 'scrunched up'??)

Give me a few days (or weeks?) as I pull it back together, get the blog on a make-over waiting list, and get my ducks in a (crooked) row. I'm looking forward to spending time with you.

I may write mostly about the little one, about our experiences during the process of her adoption. I just don't know yet. I do know that I have concerns about posting much about my older children, because I value their privacy and I know they do, too. So we'll see.

The only thing I do know is that I'll be ME. When I start writing, a part of me that stays mostly hidden slips onto the page. I just can't help it.

Today I wrote on the back porch, while the rain pounced and splashed and the wind whipped. It was an unseasonably cool day as I sat there while Ahna napped. And I loved every minute that I "gave myself."

***(oh, boy - Blogger has changed in the last few months. Even after enlisting a little help from my techie-but-too-busy husband, we are unable to figure out how to post photos the way I need to. I am so blogger-challenged. So for this post, mostly just 'words' will have to do.)

One year ago yesterday.

It was a day like no other. A day that was full of trepidation and anxiety and astonishing peace all wrapped up together. The day that 13-month old Ahna physically joined our family. Her birth and her presence into our lives. Oh, she was already part of us. We had waited and prayed and hoped and waited some more. And she finally came, just as we knew she would.

She SO didn't like us at first. Her tiny face was writhed in an emotional pain she didn't even understand. Her tears flowed freely, her nose ran constantly, her cries came softly but steadily. 3 days of this. When we first took her from the orphanage worker's arms, she pulled away, back toward the only life that she knew. For a time her head rested on my shoulder as she sobbed. Soon, though, we realized that she she wasn't ready to see us, to look us in the face. We were strangers, the 5 of us, and she wanted nothing to do with any of us.

My husband and I were thankful for her strong emotional reaction to us, for we knew it meant that she FELT emotion, that she had likely been attached to someone else. And so hopefully, she would also attach to us, given a little time. But that day, the day we met her, it was not to happen. Hours later, my husband finally got her to stop crying by holding her away from him (so that she didn't have to look at him), and moving her around in a bouncy fashion. She caught sight of herself in the mirrored closet door of the hotel room, and she was mesmerized. And she stopped crying. He even 'snuck' the bottle into her mouth for the 20th time, and she began to suck. He laid her in my arms - I was recovering from a passing-out episode - and she drank her bottle dry and fell asleep.

So for the next several days when the uncontrollable crying would begin, we would pick her up, face her outward, bounce, and go to the mirror. Seeing herself there would stop her crying in its tracks, and she would look and look. And finally she began to glance up to the person holding her. And soon, she liked what she saw, thought she might be safe, and decided she'd try and give this family a chance.

It is a year later, and her reflection has incredibly changed. Not just on the outside, but on the inside, as well. The toddler who still loves to stare at herself in that mirror, now has a brand new reason to do so. She knows exactly how special, how loved, how safe she is. She trusts us completely and pours hugs and kisses over us at a whim. She goes to the mirror now, to see how pretty she looks in a new dress, or to attempt to brush her hair or mock me in some way, or to just study her face. She is all silliness and giggles and joy. And sometimes a little stubborness, too. Just a little.

We can't get over how much we love her, how natural and effortless and beautiful it has been to have her in our family. That a whole year has passed is craziness to me. So much life has happened; so much is yet to be lived. We look back to that day a year ago, and we could not be more thankful that Ahna was meant for us, that we were meant for Ahna. She is ours and we are hers. God smiled on us and put us together. We know that He did. It sounds trite, but it is true.

Happy Ahna Forever Day, sweet girl.

(small photo, but since I don't know what I'm doing.....)

Oh, my.

It has been way too long. I do have sort-of a good reason for being away, though. At the end of October I began to have some medical issues, which led to major surgery the second week of December. After several weeks of recovery, (and doing every last bit of Christmas shopping online), I am doing wonderfully now.

Obviously, this blog was pushed aside. I have said here more than once that I REALLY want to blog. Which I believe is part of the reason why I do not. Because when the things of life call and circumstances beckon, I begin to feel (false) guilt for doing things I really enjoy doing. That, however, is a great big topic for another day.

Right now I just wanted to pop in here and say HI. I so hope that I'm officially "on my way back." I have got to get this blog a makeover, though! And, boy, could I use a makeover! I watched way too much Wh*t Not to We*r on TLC while I was recouping....

I'll be catching up with all of you over the next several days, and look forward to reading about your holiday adventures. This family's Great Adventure with Ahna continues. What a blast, what extreme joy, to finally have her with us this Christmas. She delights us all, all the time.

Typing that last sentence reminds me of another sentence: one that floated through my mind earlier. It is what I want to do, and it is this: I want to write simply, and to simply write. Which reminds me of my very first blog post which was entitled "Just Do It."

And since I am literally falling asleep writing this and not even making sense, I will close until next time. Thanks for reading my rambling!