And just when you thought we were done...

Welcome to the judicial office of childhood and adolescence. 

One thing I love about it getting lighter earlier these days is that the birds start chirping by the time I am up.  It's still quiet (if the girls don't conspire against me) when I roll out of bed and start making coffee.  I sit by the the kitchen window and gaze out across the mountains, which are usually still blanketed by heavy grey clouds.  But, there is more often a brighter hint of light that gives hope that in a few hours, the blue sky will break through and we'll have at least some warm hours before we get socked in again by the premature rain clouds.  Today, Scotty and I decided to head up to sign our adoption book and see if the lawyer did what she said she was going to do (which we're not sure she always does, or at least not on our time schedule).  I met him at the church office and we hailed a taxi trufi- a sedan that follows a set route, but where you still have the freedom to get off and on wherever you want.  I squeezed into the front, pushing the 65 year old man already in that seat into the middle where there is no seat, the gear shift probably knocking his knees each time the driver shifted.  That's how we roll here.  So, with this full-sized man practically sitting in my lap and the sun beating on my face, we began our ascent into town.  When we were as close as we were going to get, the driver let us off in the middle of the 4 lane, busy street that slices through downtown and we wound our way through stopped buses and cars and made our way up, up, up to the judge's office that we have come to know and love/hate.  Up a few flights of stairs (this weekly jaunt is quite a work-out) and into the cramped office where they have come to recognize us and pull out the adoption book as soon as they see us.  It's nice that Scotty towers over everything and everyone around him when we are wanting to be seen by the government employees who are doing their best to pretend like there is no one in the room waiting to be served.  Scotty asked if the secretary had begun writing his final letter yet- the last official document that needs to be finished before everything is sent off to the judge and she makes the request for a child from the orphanage.  We find that our paperwork has not made it to his desk yet (a week after it was supposed to have been turned in by our lawyer) and can we please come back with our lawyer tomorrow morning.  I'm a bit peeved that it's sitting where we left it last week and imagining doing this less-than-easy journey into town again tomorrow.  But, we smile and say "yes".  After leaving, we discuss how certain procedures in this culture have made us more assertive, but also continue to wonder how to push and prod things along without doing it in anger.  Cause, honestly, I've had too many moments of lightly veiled anger in some of these things.  But we also realize that a certain amount of expressed displeasure or impatience is a way of showing a continued interest in the project.  I'm pretty sure I'm never going to be non-American enough to get it.  So, we will return on Friday and wrap up (AGAIN) something that we thought was wrapped.  The lawyer also casually informed us that a chunk of money will need to be payed to the secretary for....doing his job??  With money in hand and the smiles plastered on our faces, we will keep going through the motions and hope that before long, our little boy will be ready for us.  We do it for him and for our family.  We long to see him and bring him home and start a new chapter in our story.  Our expectations for this year are high- a new home, a new baby and preparation for a totally new job.  We feel a certain amount of constant expectation.  So, we try to remember what we memorized in the family catechism we are studying: Nothing happens except through Him and by His will.