Patience

I felt it appropriate to blog about what I'm thankful for this Thanksgiving. It's something that this whole adoption process has brought me -- patience. I am somebody who sets out to do something and hopes to do it right then. It's a reason why long projects in the house don't always get done - I have a very hard time saying "ok, let me do a little bit now, and I'll do more later". No, it's always "now, now, now".

Well, there is no "now, now, now" in this adoption process. There isn't even a "then, then, then". There's a "maybe sometime, when the stars align". It is quite difficult for me to accept - but accept it I must. So, this Thanksgiving, in addition to support from friends and family, support from anonymous good wishers, prayers being sent our way, having the most wonderful wife in the whole wide world -- I am thankful for the patience that the adoption process has brought me.

But, I still have trouble starting projects about the house -- just because I won't be able to finish them that day :-)

Things Duffy Is Thankful For

Being 32 but looking like I am still in my 20s
Splenda
Clark's shoes
100 calories packs of anything
Pasta
Anne Taylor
LL Bean
Block scheduling
My new laptop
Audiobooks
Online shopping
Sleeping in
The National Dog Show
The Macy's Day Parade
It's a Wonderful Life
Princess Bride
Star Wars
Sense and Sensibility
Jeans with Lyrca
Warm socks that are now in pairs thanks to the Great Batzer Sock Hunt of '08
Being Greek
My pets for teaching me patience and that unconditional love means sloppy kisses
My amazing friends who make me laugh and hold me up by the perfectly timed phone calls
My family who shows support through faith, guidance, and loud talking
My sister-in-law & brother-in-law, for sharing
My mother-in-law, for knowing exactly the right ways to spoil us
My brother, Wyatt, who constantly makes me laugh with surprise after surprise. Except the chain letters.
My brother, Will, who listens like no one else
My father, for making me self-sufficient
My sister, I can't even explain in words
My mother, for everything that is good in me
My husband, for being my friend and my heart
My baby who I hope to share all of this with very soon

In the absense of Human Baby News

Since we don't have any new news on the adoption front, I figured I'd share a cute story about our fuzzy children. Last night, I was playing ball with Snickelfritz (whose idea of "playing ball" is to yell at you when you're ignoring him, but as soon as you show any interest, at all, of actually playing with him, he takes the ball and runs away -- he thinks this is hilarious) when we realized that the other two dogs were nowhere to be found.

I hopped upstairs to find Cosmo hanging out in the bedroom doorway. I explained to him that it wasn't bedtime yet, but he had no intentions of coming downstairs, and was acting quite guilty (I'd soon find out that this was "concerned", but Cosmo nuances are typically only known to Cosmo). I checked the bedroom to ensure that nothing was peed or chewed upon (all was clear) and went back downstairs, figuring that Hobbes was outside.

After 15 minutes of chasing Snickelfritz around, attempting to convince him that it's more fun for both of us if he lets the ball go and then chases it when I throw it, I became more concerned. Hobbes is a world class smeller . . . but 15 minutes of concentrated smelling, without gathering the attention of the other two puppies, that just doesn't happen. I called outside to get him to come in, but there was no response. So, I figured he must have been under the bed in the bedroom -- but he wasn't. At this point, I started opening doors, and he had managed to get himself locked in the nursery -- at our house, getting a dog locked behind closed doors isn't really Earth-shattering news (heck, Snickelfritz manages to lock himself in a bathroom every other week), but what happened next really is.

As soon as the door opened, Cosmo started acting happier than I have ever seen a dog act. I could have offered to make him a steak, and I think his joy over Hobbes's liberation would have superseded that emotion. This is on par with Dudley saying "I don't think he's a waste of space". Cosmo is usually all about Cosmo -- but this was true concern and elation about another dog. I gave him a big puppy hug for that (he's a very, very good puppy hugger).

Just so you know we haven't forgotten about you!

Hey everyone, there is nothing new, but I thought I would post so the blog keeps some of its momentum.
Do you remember what it felt like to exist on a daily basis before September 11, 2001? Since that date, I have always felt like I lost something, an arrogance about my own safety, I suppose, is the more cynical way to say it. Some more sunnier people might call it an innocence. Either way, life in the U.S. changed that day, and it can be hard to remember how existence felt before such an epic crack in the foundation appeared.
We have been waiting for a baby since March of 2005 in one way, shape, or form. Life before Waiting is getting fuzzy. It is a life constant by now. Sometimes I wonder if it will take a while to stop expecting even after a baby has arrived.
Does pregnancy feel the same way? Like you can't remember how it felt to not be pregnant, and then when it's over, you sometimes forget you aren't pregnant anymore?