Happy Birthday, Sally!

Sally turns five today! She has been looking forward to her birthday for months. Last year, she was confused by most of the celebration. It only took a few parties for her to realize what this wonderful called a birthday is all about. Especially when it's your birthday. She's been planning where (the venue has changed so many times I finally stopped listening to her), what kind of cake (again, fickle, fickle, fickle--she ended up with a bicycle cake), and presents. Specifically, she wanted clothes, an ice cream playset, and her ears pierced. We threw in a new bike for good measure. She's been riding a boy's toddler bike for a year. It's great for learning, but a few months ago she realized that she was indeed riding a bike waaaay smaller than Ella's and...whoa...it's blue. No! How in the world did I end up on a blue bike?! Hello Kitty is much more suitable. Sally's a girlie girl if I ever saw one.

Birthday celebrations began early with an invitation only VHS showing of Free Willy (the phenomenon continues). The princess gets a trip to the mall for earrings and a pretzel. Five seems a little young for earrings, but Sally's loophole is her questionable age. She's turning five today according to paperwork, but really...she got her six year old molars when she was 'four and a half". When I asked the dentist about her age he laughed and said, "It's not like she's 12, but she's probably not four." I'm more than happy to let her get her ears pierced now instead of making her wait a long two years. She's had a hard year. When she's fourteen and wants to start driving I'll be singing a different song!

Happy Birthday, Princess!

Our Day in Court

It only took us 14 months to get this done. I didn't have the same sense of urgency regarding paperwork AFTER the children were already ours. I finally felt so guilty about putting it off for eight months that I contacted the lawyer. It was a remarkably cold, blustery day back in February. I ran outside to get the van warmed up before loading everyone up. A few minutes later we trickled out to the van to find the doors locked. The keys in the ignition, the van running, and the second set of keys an hour away in Seth's pocket--no way I could make it to my appointment on time. I called for roadside assistance and waited. Then waited. Then started math with the bigs. Then called roadside assistance again. Then waited. Then ate lunch. Did reading, geography, and science. Then called roadside assistance again. Told them to stop lying to me about "being there in 20 minutes" because it had been four hours. Told them to just cancel the truck that was "just around the corner" because I if this was really an emergency we would have died by now. Thankyouverymuch. I called someone else and he was in my driveway within five minutes.

I finally made it to the office that day. Eight months and five hours late. I didn't feel too guilty after that, because I had taken the step by dropping off paperwork and signing a (rather hefty, in my opinion) check. I didn't hear from the lawyer again until a few weeks ago. (I have to admit that I had my reservations about the personable lawyer I had hired. Sure that she was running off with our wimpy payment.) We finally got a notice about appearing in court. I've only been in a courtroom once before. It was in Ukraine and the judge was scary--yelling at me, peppering us with questions about getting paid to adopt our daughter. This was a completely different experience. The judge was jolly and passed out gifts (gavels) to our children afterwards. I have to admit that I felt a little nostalgic about the morning. It was the last little piece that had to be done to make our children "ours".

July 4th

From us to you--"Happy Independence Day!" Pretend Everett is screaming that--it's much easier than opening photoshop and switching his face.

Last Month by the Numbers

4—Months that Seth has been living two hours away during the workweek.

80—Days I was alone with five children. Trying to sell the house. You are welcome to re-read previous posts and see them in a new light realizing that I was alone with the chaos. My loving hubby forbade me from publicly announcing our living situation.

$75—The whopping earnings we made when we sold our home.

22—Number of days that our family has been homeless—in the loosest sense of the word.

2—Hours it takes to travel from my parent's house to our city for doctor's appointments.

5—Times I drove back in the first 10 days after moving out.

16—Houses we have been shown (after ruling out hundreds).

2—Offers we have made. Still without a home.

7—Times the girls have watched Free Willy since we moved in with my parents.

4—Viewings it took for them to finally stop calling Willy a dolphin.

10.5—Hours a trip to Connecticut should have taken from my sister's house.

14.5—Actual trip time. Did I mention that I was travelling alone with five children?

30—Minutes for an average 'pit stop' on the trip.

5—Times my mom told me I was crazy for taking the trip.

At least 50—Times I told my mom she was right once I was in the van. Alone. With five kids. For 14 hours.