Maybe another step closer to adoption...maybe not.

My brain exploded today.  For reals.  Scotty and I have been patiently waiting for an interview with the psychologist- the 2nd to last that we will hopefully need before we finish our adoption stuff.  We've been praying, thinking through questions he might ask and revisiting our own motives for adopting.  We felt prepared.  But, nothing could prepare us for this guy.  Right before we went into his office, our lawyer told us, "he might tell you that the packet of info that was sent from child and family services regarding their findings isn't complete.  He'll offer you two options- one, to send it back to the same office or two, to hire an independent psychologist who can speak with us and corroborate our story.  Pick the first option."  I wasn't sure what that meant, but it seemed important.  Let the games begin.  As soon as we sat down, mr. man began to read through the information he had on file about our case.  He reiterated what we already explained in our previous interviews with the other government office.  He went to great lengths to explain that when he presents our case before the judge, she's going to ask him, "but how do you KNOW that Mr. and Mrs. Miser are no longer in emotional turmoil over the son they lost?  But, how do you KNOW that Lisa is the transparent person she claims to be?  What EVIDENCE do you have that Scotty isn't a psychopath and actually loves his children?"  He explains in that fabulous condescending way that he believes us, OF COURSE! But, there just wasn't enough observation done by the other team to convince the judge.  He used analogies, he used metaphors.  He talked just so he could revel in the glory of his own speech.  He spoke to us like we had a cumulative IQ of 12.  And the worst part is that as much as he said it was important to him to make sure we were an acceptable set of people to adopt and be loving parents to these poor children, it was so obvious that his motive was only to convince us not to trust the work of child and family services and to go with someone independent instead.  I don't understand what benefit this was to him or why it was so important.  I'm waiting for a call from our lawyer to see if she has any idea.  He asked us very few questions, or the ones that he did ask, he gave us no opportunity to answer.  It was about an hour and 45 mins of this, but it felt like an eternity.  We nodded and smiled and tried to keep our eyes open and our anger under wraps.  I was practically shaking with fury by the time I left and couldn't believe that man had just wasted so much of our time and done no favors for the cause of adoption.  We consoled ourselves with a donut from our favorite donut store- a rare treat, but a necessary one today.  And, we pray that despite this man, our paperwork will continue to move forward.  We know that even his incompetence will not thwart God's plan.

Old ladies and movement.

As I stood on the side of the street today, hand-picking my fruit at the market, a little old lady that I've come to recognize and who recognizes me, came to ask if she could help me carry my bags.  Often I reject the offer of help (even though they expect to be paid a bit), because I think that surely of the two of us, I should be the one doing the heavy lifting.  This lady must be in her '70s and is hunched over a bit and she always tries to make friendly conversation in Aymara, which, of course, I don't understand a word of.  Sometimes a Spanish word will make it out of her lips, like "girl" or "expensive".  The last few times I've let her help me, after placing my bags in the car, she'll say something in Aymara and then pat her chest gently and say, "Michita".  Her name.  She waits until I repeat her name and tell her mine, then she nods her head and walks away.  I was struck today that I live Bolivia's capital city, but can still interact with women who have never learned to speak Spanish.  The diversity is stunning.

We've made progress in all main areas this week!  Scotty had a meeting with the director of Highlands, the school where he hopes to teach next year.  He now knows some concrete steps to take to be ready for that to happen and has been promised a job!  This is huge!  That same day, our adoption lawyer called to let us know that after two months of chasing down someone at the judge's office, she was able to connect and get us an appointment for one of our two last interviews!  The next day, our architect finally sent us what we need to have the engineer begin his part of the deal so that we are one step closer to breaking ground.  Wow!  I was just trying to explain to Natty right before all this happened that God exists outside of the realm of time and is not affected by it, but in control of it.  (Is this a bit complex for a 5 year old?)  So, I prayed with her (meaning she begrudgingly listened to me) that this sovereign God would move things along as only someone in control of time can.  And he did!  We are very thankful and excited to see what happens now.

Locked in and foiled again.

For quite a while now, we've been waiting for a few tweaks to be made on our house plans.  We meet with the architect and explain in detail what we want, he takes our plans and we don't hear from him for a couple weeks.  When the plans come back, some, but not all, has been done.  Repeat.  Repeat again.  This morning, we met with a structural engineer and our builder who got our plans, surveyed the land a bit and said they are ready to draw up the structural drawings to begin construction as soon as some minor changes would be done by the architect.  Scotty had a meeting with him scheduled right after.  Perfect!  He was to go to the architect's house and sit down with him so that they could work it out together.  He's had several dates like this canceled by the architect for one reason or another.  Am I effectively building some tension here?  So, Scotty leaves for his date with the architect.  The scene at home is Natty and me sitting on the couch.  Jubilee trots off to their bedroom, shuts the door and "click".  Hmmm, that's weird.  She's never locked the door before.  I quickly finish whatever I was doing with Natty and go to try the bedroom door.  Yep, locked.  "Jubilee, open the door."  She calmly calls back, "OK!"  I hear the door rattling.  "I can't!"  Me: Jubilee, you need to turn the lock.  J: Daddy says no lock.  Me:  Yes, but you DID lock it and now you need to unlock it.  Silence.  Steps retreating.  Me: Jubilee!  Come open the door!  J: Jussa minute.  I'm comin'.  Nothing.  Me:  Now, not in a minute.  J: OK, Mommy.  Nothing.  Mommy goes to wash dishes.  5 minutes later.  Me:  Jubilee?  Do you hear me?  What are you doing?  J: Reading!  The kitty one!  Me: Can you please try to open the door again.  J: Locked?!  Me: Yes, locked.  You have to try to turn the button on the knob.  J: Oh.  Door handle rattles. Steps retreating again. Well, as you can imagine, this goes on forever.  Jubilee maintains a tranquil attitude and her usual sing-song responses to my growing impatience and mild threats.  She only gets excited when I get desperate and tell her we're eating ice cream.  At that point she tells me she's peed in her pants and I hear her open her dresser to find new pants.  "The pink ones!" she says, as though she's dressing to actually go somewhere.  During this, I've called Scotty and finally admit that there's no getting the door open (I tried, trust me) and he  decides to come home since the keys to the bedroom doors are over on our land in some box, somewhere.  He eventually returns, opens the door after an hour of Jubilee's incarceration and she is sitting happily on the floor looking at books.  So much for our the meeting with the architect.  But, he did leave the plans, again, and the architect said he'd have them done this week...again.  I'll let you know how that turns out.