Hiding in Fredericksburg

All the schools and offices in the area have called for a "snow day" today, so I'm giving my kids a break from homeschool, too.  We're a week ahead anyway and snow sounds like a good excuse to take a day off!  So, I have a little time and thought I'd take a second shot at writing this blog entry.  I started a week ago, but just couldn't get my thoughts together in the right words.  Not sure I can today either, but it's clearly something that is still weighing on my heart and on my mind.

As I've said before, I am nomadic by nature, so being a military wife has worked well for me.  I like change and I have always enjoyed moving (not the packing part, just to be clear).  It's a chance to start over; to reinvent or build on who we are.  It's not that I pretend to be something I'm not in a new place.  On the contrary- I am always true to and real about who I am.  Settling in new towns has simply given me the opportunity to nurture certain parts of who I am (people are multi-faceted after all) and to have a clean break with the things I should or want to leave behind.  I am a very social person and have been known to overly involve myself and my family in activities outside of our home.  This is an easy pool for a stay-at-home mother to drown in, though I'm not sure I could explain that to you if you don't understand what I mean.  It is, however, always a balancing act between my family's needs and my own, and it is one of those things I will always have to work at.  In any case, moving every few years helps these seasons of life begin and end neatly and naturally.

When our new orders came this past summer to move just a few hours north, I decided it was time to slow down. I am the woman who was not just a parent of a child involved in certain activities;  I was the mother leading and participating.  A mere year ago, I was in charge of childcare for MOPS with plans to coordinate the group the following year, leading Julian's Cub Scout Tiger Den, an active Senior Consultant in Thirty One, and a helper with our church's childrens choir in addition to many other less regular activities.  Many of our week nights and weekends were spent running to extra curricular interests, mostly in opposite directions, and our family was no longer benefiting from these activities, but rather drifting apart.  I rarely felt like we spent any time together, even in places where we were all present.  A relocation was the perfect opportunity to refocus.  And so I made a promise to Carlos and the boys-  I wouldn't jump into anything right away when we settled in Fredericksburg.

Needless to say and quite uncharacteristically of me, I have found it far too easy to keep this promise.  I'm beginning to see maybe I've even taken it too far in the other direction.  After six months of living here, we have joined only our homeschool group and the local y, and I have limited our involvement even in these organizations.  My problem isn't in being involved in only a few things.  No, the problem comes when I admit I haven't truly invested in the lives of the people we have met, nor have I allowed them close enough to invest in us.  We are, of course, friendly at school and I chat with the other mothers as the boys work and play, but it is only small talk.  Beyond the doors of the church we meet at and the y, we keep to ourselves where these families are concerned.  You see, I have found the process of making new friends to be exhausting this time around.  I don't like the isolation I have created.  In fact, the urge to get out is just as nagging as ever, but I just don't have the energy or the attitude to actively pursue new relationships.  I'm afraid the social butterfly in me has flown away.  Believe me, I know how dumb this sounds.

Our only saving grace from my anti-social antics has been old friends that happen to live in Fredericksburg; a family that already knows us well.  They are one of the many reasons we chose to live here instead of closer to my husband's job in DC, second only to the cost of living.  When we need a little fun, we call on them.  It is not healthy to not have a bigger local support system though, and it certainly isn't fair to these family friends for us to become their burden and responsibility.  I know they don't feel this way, but I'm worried it won't be long before they do.

So, what do I do?

Well, I have no immediate desire to crawl out of this isolated cave I've stumbled into.  I wish I could tell you why.  I'm not really looking for advice, but owning up to my depression (let's be honest and call a spade a spade here) seems to be the best place to start.  Sharing this is far harder than you will ever know.  No one likes to admit their faults and imperfections, especially not on the world wide web, but I'm clearly getting desperate for motivation to move on.  I want better for my children, for my family, and for myself.  My only hope is found in the will I still possess to make it better.  For now, taking one day at a time is all I can promise and I hope in my next post I can share a more inspirational and encouraging side of myself.

P.S. If you see me on the streets of Fredericksburg, don't let me get away with small talk.

Caspian the Giant Saves Christmas

I'll admit it.  I never thought I'd participate in anything as silly as the Elf on the Shelf tradition.  Like ever.  A little Christmas elf that magically moves every night and reports back to Santa?  Really?  The last thing I need is to add one more "to do" to my list, especially this time of year.  And compete with Super Mom for the most creative elf appearance?  Sounds like a fabulous way for me to ruin the Christmas spirit altogether by forgetting to move said elf and breaking my sons' little hearts.  I mean, let's be honest- ain't nobody got time for that!

I've seen a few anti-elf posts on Facebook already this year.  People sharing their thoughts on how obnoxious it all is, all sounding quite familiar to my previous feelings on the subject, although I was more worried about being able to keep up with it daily rather than being annoyed by someone else's decision to partake in this tradition.

Here's the thing.  Last year, I was in a very different place, both physically and emotionally.  I don't know why I'm always amazed at how life's circumstances can give you a very different perspective of everything, but so it is.

2013 has been a very big year for our family, the biggest event being the blessing of becoming an officer family in the U.S. Coast Guard.  We were, of course, so excited and honored by my husband's promotion.  It is a wonderful thing for our family, and he has worked so hard for this.  The trouble is, with a promotion like this also comes the probability of an early move, often considered a curse of the military life.  I don't typically mind a move.  In fact, I was born for this nomadic lifestyle and I'm usually thrilled to find adventure in the change of scenery.  But this time was different, and I'm not sure I've discovered why just yet.  Really, we didn't move far, but the changes have affected me much more than I'm happy to admit.  As a result, the joy I normally find in this time of year has been rather elusive.  There is no Christmas music blaring in my home, as is the custom from early November through the first of January.  Though I have purchased and wrapped most of our gifts for family and friends, I have done so with a grinch-like countenance.  We carelessly disposed of our little Charlie Brown tree in our move this summer with no intention of replacing it.  Our Nativity is still tucked away in its box.  I have not even glanced at the super long list of Pinterest holiday ideas and crafts pinned just after Christmas last year to my "Must Do Holiday" board.   I'm just not feeling it this year... and that's no way to celebrate the birth of our Savior.

Now, let me pause here to explain another military family truth.  Many, if not all of our holidays and vacations are spent traveling to visit family.  If the husband has time off and the kids have no school (though this aspect has changed since we began our homeschool journey), we squeeze in time with as many loved ones as we can possibly manage.  The more we move, the more people we adopt as family, and the more we want to visit.  It is a wonderful thing to have family and friends spread all over the country, (and please don't misunderstand- I wouldn't change this) but it is also a sacrifice.  My children have only spent one Christmas Eve in their own beds, waking up Christmas morning in their own living room.  We don't have those cool family traditions for December 24th and 25th (or the two weeks surrounding) because we never know where we will be.  And don't get me started on what a logistical nightmare Santa can be!  For the first time, this year our children have expressed a desire to be home for Christmas and questioned why we always had to be somewhere else.  I didn't know what to say to them.  I did, however, have an idea of how to make the season a little fun and to step out of this funk I seem to have led my family into.

I have a very talented friend who owns a little shop called the Burbs.  She sells toys and collectibles, all made with her own two hands and lots of heart.  One of her seasonal items is a quirky little elf.  I followed her family's elf, Monroe and his crazy shenanigans last year, and thought one of these little guys could really bring some special memories to my boys.  And so Caspian the Giant was created!

It is only the second week of December, and already Caspian has helped our family find Christmas.  It was so sweet to see the expressions on the faces of my three boys when they awoke to find a beautiful 6-foot pre-lit Christmas tree awaiting the ornaments Caspian had dug out of the dark basement on only his second day with us.  Some of these ornaments hadn't seen a tree in 10 years!  The boys giggled when they read his note expressing slight irritation in our delay of decorating.  Caspian even surprised our visiting friends with poppers and silly string in celebration of reaching the half-way mark in their daddy's deployment.  He brought Christian balloons and a little gift on his birthday (because having a December birthday is always tough).  With every little act of Christmas fun, the bah-humbugs are replaced with holiday bliss.

His gestures are not always a big to do and they can be rather mischievous sometimes, but I don't mind giving Caspian credit for the deeds he has done.  Having him around has truly been more fun than I could've imagined an elf being.  It's been the best addition to our Christmas traditions this year; one we can easily do here at home, or on the road visiting friends and family.  I'm creating memories for my children- happy, joy-filled fun, and what in life is better than that?

I'm certainly not saying that having an elf is necessary for every family or that our elf antics supercede the real meaning of Christmas.  I simply wanted to offer another perspective to those who see the Christmas Elf as an annoyance or as a competition.

Here are some pictures of Caspian's adventures so far in the Ortiz house:

Caspian needed a bit of sugar to get him going and he got into the candy bowl on the first night.

Caspian was a little irritated that we hadn't decorated yet, and actually provided us with a tree!

A reunion with all his friends from the Burbs.  

A friendly game of Five Card Spud.

Attempting to decorate a bit more.

A celebration for half-way through friends' deployment.

A snowball fight with the Cat.

Happy birthday, Christian!

Christmas Hangman with the Christmas Little People

Caught him watching Despicable Me 2, a gift he brought for the boys.

File Under "When I have More Time"

I guess it's been awhile, huh?

A brief moment on Facebook led me to the blog of a friend today and for just a moment as I scrolled through her frequent updates I thought, "This is cool!  I should start a blog.  Wait- I have a blog.  A very neglected and probably now removed from blogger blog!"  

I rushed right over and discovered just how long it had been- like over a year and a half!  Not surprisingly, blogger had updated its format (but not deleted me!) and my Little Wonders wore the neglect poorly with its warped template like makeup smeared after a good cry.  My dashboard showed several unfinished drafts of updates never posted, clearly displaying one of my worst traits; a habit of rarely finishing a project begun.

It certainly isn't that we haven't been busy.  Quite the contrary, though much of what we've done may not have been as exciting as other, more organized and super duper trendy blogs brag about.  It's not that I haven't had the itch to write either.  I always have plenty to say- just ask the hubs!  Luckily, fixing a template isn't cosmetic surgery!  The eternally pending drafts, however,  will sadly remain unpublished for the time being, some never to be (because I can't remember what my point was) and others "to be" later (ha ha- I know what you're thinking).

SO... I leave you now, with an updated look and a promise to return with something interesting to write.

How about a picture of the cutest almost-3-year-old around these parts to tide you over?  Here he is, helping mommy with laundry today...

The Thirteenth Christmas

As submitted to James Avery Craftmen's Facebook "Christmas Memories" Contest on November 24, 2010:

The Thirteenth Christmas

I know many people whose favorite seasons are fall and winter, mostly because of the holidays and the joy they bring. I am no different, but this time of year marks a very special anniversary for me that has really carved the seasons of fall and winter deep into my heart.

Thirteen years ago, I was pregnant at the young age of 18 and due to deliver a baby boy in December. It was a very difficult time for me. It was an unplanned pregnancy for my boyfriend, Carlos and me, and we knew we had big decisions in our very near future. We had just graduated high school and my dreams of college were quickly slipping away. I desperately wanted to be a mother to this baby I loved so much, but I knew that babies could not survive on love alone. We decided it would be foolish not to consider adoption. Still, we struggled with the choice- how do you choose a family that is right for your baby? It wasn’t long before that question was answered.

Lisa was my aunt’s sister-in-law. She and her husband, Al were awaiting the arrival of a baby girl they were to adopt in the summer of 1997, but when the baby was born, the mother changed her mind and the adoption fell through. They were heart-broken. I had just shared my pregnancy news with my mother when I was told of their story. In their sorrow, I heard the gentle whisper of the Lord; this was the loving couple He had created for my son. I wish that I could tell you it was a moment of joy, but I was truly overwhelmed with sadness for I finally understood that he was not meant to be my son, though he would always be just that in my heart. I pushed through my sadness and shared my revelation with Carlos. He agreed and we shared our decision with our families and Lisa and Al. They were over the moon, but cautious – their scars were still healing from the last baby they gave their hearts to. I included them in as much of the pregnancy as I could, but I made sure to treasure the moments that remained with my sweet baby boy. As the leaves of fall began to change and the temperature gradually cooled, I would often visit the neighborhood park and sit quietly beside the pond with my arms tightly wrapped around my belly, as though I could keep him there forever. I would whisper all my hopes and dreams to him, and he always seemed to stir at just the right time, as if to acknowledge my love for him. I spent much of the fall lost in these precious moments, but they passed far too quickly. The minutes turned to hours, hours to days, and days to weeks. As the mild Texas winter came, so did our baby boy. On December 8, 1997, Zach was born.

It was an emotional day; the proverbial rollercoaster of elation and fear and sorrow. I had been so anxious to meet him, but the excitement was over shadowed by my fear; it felt like the beginning of the end. Amidst a roomful of people, the nurse placed him in my arms and all the world faded away along with my sadness. It was just the two of us. I knew our time was short, but how could I be sad with this beautiful child, this gift from God in my arms? He was absolutely perfect and I knew the Lord had great plans for him though I would watch from a distance.

The days that followed passed very quickly and before I knew it, the day had come for me to go home. I chose not to see him the morning I left. I wasn’t sure I could say goodbye, though at the time, I thought I would see him soon and often. It was a verbal arrangement made between Lisa, Al, and I. We would see them as I always had, at occasional family dinners, graduations, and weddings. Unfortunately, life seldom goes according to plan.

Christmas came and went, the saddest I had ever had. And then another and another. I learned to live with a giant whole in my heart. Carlos and I married in May of 2002. Still, we had not seen Zach and heard very little about him. He was doing well, we knew, and even had a sister now, Lydia who was also adopted and the same age as Zach, but it was all second-hand information. Following Zach’s birth and adoption, Lisa grew very distant and withdrew from all contact. All we could do was give her space. I thought for sure it was temporary, but years went by and we were always told the time wasn’t right. We could only wait. I clung to mementos from his birth and a few precious pictures I had collected from random places over the years. These and the daily prayers of my hopeful heart were all I had.

Twelve falls have come and gone, followed in the usual way by winter, and many things have changed. We have since been blessed with the birth of three more boys, and are living far from our home state of Texas as a Coast Guard family. But no matter where I had been, when September rolled around and the trees began to change, I had always found a quiet place in God’s wondrous world to send my whispers out hoping they would stir his heart as they had before.

God never leaves prayers unanswered or promises un-kept.

Now, another fall and winter come, but our thirteenth Christmas will not be spent without Zach or his sister, Lydia. Following the tragic loss of their mother to an inoperable brain tumor this September, we were reunited with Zach and his family. I cannot understand the need for the loss of Lisa, but as God so often does, he has created new hope from the ashes of this tragedy. Lisa has left a new hole that will never be filled, but together, Al, Carlos, and I are redefining a family for our children with a special place for everyone, surrounded in love and grounded in faith. It’s an exciting new chapter in our lives and the first of many Christmases in which we will count our many blessings and cherish each moment we have together.

Look Back

This was a Facebook game I posted in my "Notes" on February 4, 2009 titled "25 Things About Me," in no particular order. Came across it today. Thought it would be fun to take a look back and see how far we've come! (Updates in green.)

1. I love the Imagination Movers and I'm watching them right now- with the boys, of course. If you have toddlers/preschoolers, you know who I'm talking about. Their music is Groovy! :o)

What can I say? Phases aren't just for kids.

2. I haven't told my husband yet, but I've got baby fever again... BAD! I'm so ready to try for #3.

Addie. Need I say more? ;o)

3. I never thought I was a big-dog person. Now, I have 4 Greyhounds living in my house and I realize I'm really not a big-dog person- I'm a Greyhound person! (They're not dogs; they're Greyhounds! There is a difference!)

Our grey-babies (2 of the 4 above were our pets; 2 were fosters) were rehomed when the Coast Guard moved us to Virginia. Now renters, we weren't able to have 3 dogs; 2 over 50 lbs. "Broken heart" describes it best.

4. I have the best Chihuahua in the world, too! Her name is Juno, but she only responds to "Junebug."

Junebug is still the best Chihuahua in the world, although I should disclose that she is part Min Pin as well. She misses the greyhounds very much, especially in the chilly Virginia fall nights.

5. You know how some men are attracted to butts, boobs, or other "sexy" women features? Well, my boys will most likely carry their love for bellies (and I don't mean the 6-pack-abs kind) into their adulthood. Someday, I'll have to explain and apologize to my daughters-in-law!

I guess a "Belly Blog" is the only thing that will explain this one! Stay tuned for that funny story!

6. Coco will be starting Kindergarten in the fall. I'm pretending to be brave, but I don't know what Juju and I are going to do during the days without him!

Coco is in 1st grade now. My "Be Brave" moment this year was letting him ride the school bus.

7. Though I've failed at numerous Direct Sales opportunities (Party Lite, Stampin' Up, and Creative Memories), I'm giving it another go with Thirty One Gifts. Ask me about it!

I'm no longer doing Thirty One (my status is currently "inactive"), but it wasn't a failure. After a year of successful parties, a new baby, and a relocation, I decided to retire. :o)

8. My parents (all 4) were not perfect, but perfection is overrated. They made me who I am today- full of imperfections myself, and I'm OK with that. The most important thing I've learned? I've learned to recognize people's best qualities, as well as their flaws and love them FOR these- not inspite of them.

I'd also like to add that being a "friend" is about working through the tough stuff. You may not always agree or be happy with the other person. What makes you true friends is coming out on this other side stronger. Walking away is NOT an option! I am blessed to have a few of these.

9. I'm almost thirty, but I'm still learning new things everyday; including who I am.

I'm thirty-one years one month and two days old now, and I'd say I've learned more about myself in the last few years than all of the previous years put together. Your twenties are highly overrated.

10. The most difficult thing about being a military wife and moving around is knowing when to hold back- guard yourself- when meeting new people. That may sound strange, but I've learned being an open book is NOT a good thing. I've been burned by the most unexpected people/things.

11. One day, I WILL BE organized! Hopefully with the help of my friend's "Clutter Keeper."

It's a work in progress!

12. I have a lot of great ideas, but I'm horrible at follow through.

13. I love being a stay-at-home mom and wife. It is the most important job,... but I don't want to get lost in it.

Balance. I have found my balance.

14. I move furniture around on a regular basis to feel refreshed. I think it drives CJ a little crazy!

15. Thrift store shopping is the best! There's nothing like going on a "treasure hunt" with Coco and Juju.

16. I'll always have a special place in my heart for Texas, but I've really fallen in love with Mobile, AL!

I'm loving Virginia this time around, too! It was just so hard to let go of Texas and all our family the first time around that I don't think I gave VA a chance.

17. I didn't make a New Year's Resolution... I make resolutions everyday that I struggle to fullfill.

18. I measure success in happiness.

19. I read more now than I ever read in school. My favorite books are all "Chick Lit."

20. My favorite days are cold, clear winter days with a gentle wind- days just like today!

And today!

21. I'm a little jealous of the opportunities my younger sisters have, but mostly I'm happy for them and very proud of them! I hope they've learned from my mistakes.

But more than that, I hope they just live.

22. Someday, I will meet a certain little boy and he will KNOW me.

He's not so little anymore, but he does know me now. My world is whole again!

23. I love the sound of my children giggling.

24. I love the peace and serenity of a beach when I'm the only one there. No touristy beaches for me- something with a local feel to it, like Dauphin Island.

25. Every women holds a secret close to her heart. Mine is... you didn't really think I was going to tell you, did you?

Boys Are Too Funny (and Gross)

I have to warn you, this story falls under the TMI category, but it was too funny not to share. :o)

Just moments ago, Juju told me with the most serious of faces, "Mommy, I didn't know butts could make colors!"

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, because I truly had no idea what he meant. In my best Mommy's-trying-to-be-calm voice with every worst case scenario running through my mind I asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I just went poo and it was green... really green!"

I know this may sound strange to anyone without children, but hearing "green poo" was best case scenario here. I was sure he meant something far worse involving tushies and paints and, more than likely carpets or walls. You just never know with the frat boys I have running around this house!

So, after I had a good laugh, I reminded him he had had a blue raspberry Italian Ice at a Hunt Club birthday party yesterday. Naturally, (maybe "unnaturally" would be more appropriate here) the massive amounts of blue dye in any frozen treat will, as we've experienced so often in the past, turn poo green. You'd think they could just add the flavoring! But, what fun would it be if your customers didn't experience the Smurf faces, hours of soaking laundry, and, of course, the green poo?

A little side note here- CJ bought two Italian Ices that day. In addition to the bright blue raspberry for Juju, he allowed Coco to get the really red cherry despite the other color/flavor combos being a colorless lemon and a dull orange colored mango. I'm all for fun, but I shamelessly (and for selfish reasons) encourage the low dye flavors. Can you tell who does the laundry and wipes the butts in our home?

Anyway, that's my little ditty for the day.

No Words

I have tried and failed at all attempts to blog about the events and subsequent feelings of last week. There are currently 2 unpublished entries from yesterday and 1 from several months back just sitting in my Blogger dashboard hoping I will return to make some sense of the original words when I can't even make sense of the emotions.

Those who know me in the "real" world know the beginnings of this story from 13 years back when I was pregnant at 18 and due to deliver a baby boy in mid-December. Carlos and I were not married, but had been dating since the beginning of our senior year of High School. Not the ideal situation for 2 graduating teens, but life is rarely ideal. I cannot even begin to tell you the chaos that engulfed my heart and head with the decisions we faced. Still I put on a brave front and though I wanted desperately to be a mother, we chose to allow a couple I had grown up with to adopt him. They named him Zach. It may have been the most selfless thing I've ever done, as I've been told by many people, but it was, by far the hardest as well. The turmoil of emotions has never gone away; it has merely faded a little over time.

I thought I had made some sense out of it all, until about a year ago when my mom called to tell me that Lisa (my mother's sister's sister-in-law and the mother of Zach) had been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. Her time in this life was running out, and far quicker than anyone could imagine. I hadn't had much contact with her over the years despite my thinking at 18 that I would, but my heart broke and into so many tiny pieces. It broke for her, knowing she wouldn't see her children graduate, marry, or have children of their own- a thought that, as a mother, I could hardly imagine. It broke for the thousands of children who would never know her as their favorite teacher, as so many had in several elementary schools in the Houston area. But mostly it broke for the lives of her own babies, Zach and a daughter, Lydia they had also adopted not long after, now both 12 years old. To be 12 and losing your mother was a pain I could not fathom and it made me a little angry. My choosing her to be the mother of my son was nothing short of God's plan, but why now was she being taken away from him before her job was done? I struggled with this. I know God has great plans that we are not always privy to, but my human brain just couldn't (and still can't) comprehend the need for such sadness.

I would occasionally get reports as her illness progressed and her body grew weak. I prayed daily. I didn't believe it was unreasonable to expect a miracle, but mostly I asked for comfort and acceptance of God's will, whatever it may be, for the family she would leave behind. Consumed by thoughts of her struggle, old wounds were split wide open and, like a flood, I was engulfed again.

Last week, I got the call. In a few precious moments with her brother (my uncle) and her mother, Lisa had taken her final breath. Lisa was free from her pain and finally at peace. Now, in the wake of this loss, her family- her children, her mother, and her brothers and sisters could begin their grieving and subsequent healing.

With the family's approval, I attended the funeral services. I needed to pay my respects and I needed closure, same as anyone. It was just a bit more than awkward though. I had been told Zach knew he had been adopted, but he didn't know who I was. We had had one chance encounter at my cousin's graduation 2 or 3 years ago. Other than that, I had seen him only in a few precious pictures I had collected from random places over the years like Christmas cards sent to my grandmother or a Thank You note written to my mother. Meeting him, getting to know him was a day I had dreamed of since God created his tiny little life in my belly. I did not, however, want our introduction, as I was told would finally happen, to coincide with his loss or his grief. Though I had already waited what seemed like an eternity, it was inappropriate and it was not the time. Still, if I was honest with myself, seeing him would overwhelm me with joy, even if he didn't know me.

Flying is my very least favorite way of travel, but as I made my way to Houston, 8 month old Adrian in tow, I let the waves of sorrow and joy, confusion and fear wash over me. Again, I prayed for God's will and for the strength to swallow that sometimes over-sized pill. It's strange how a plane full of people can still be a peaceful and quiet place to reflect and can make you feel ever so slightly closer to heaven.

Thursday was the visitation. My mother-in-law kept Adrian and I was grateful. It gave me the opportunity to grieve without worrying about my little guy. Seeing Lisa was strange. She had been so sick and though I know they did their best to make her look like herself, it just wasn't the same woman I knew. My uncle had created a slide show depicting her life to display as people came and went. It was amazing and truly captured her spirit, lessening the blow of how her body had withered in the final days of life. It reminded us of what a happy and wonderful life she had lived though the consensus was that it had been too short. There was a bittersweet sting to the photos though. Many of them, of course included pics of Zach growing up. Seeing these and seeing him was almost more than I could bare, but I gained my composure by reminding myself I was there for Lisa.

The funeral was Friday morning, and though I would have chosen not to have Adrian with me then, I had no choice but to take him. It was a nice service where Lisa was remembered and celebrated by friends and family. I'm convinced every student she had ever taught would've been there if they could've been. Following the service, while waiting for the pallbearers to walk the casket out, we congregated in the foyer where I introduced Adrian to some of the family and I noticed Zach looking at me in a very different way from the night before. Seeing Adrian was like looking at a baby Zach. There was no mistaking their resemblance. I leaned over to my friend. "Jackie, he knows!"

Suddenly, I got really nervous. How would all this play out? And why now? I did my best to continue conversations and to act normal, but inside I was breaking. I had just convinced myself (and accepted) it would be Christmas before anything more happened- just another "wait for the right time."

But just before lunch at my aunt and uncle's home, everything changed. Zach's dad, Al said he wanted to get a picture of Addie and me with Zach. I thought he was crazy! He's a smart kid, wouldn't he figure it all out if he hadn't already? He insisted it would all be fine. Imagine my surprise when I came out holding the baby and Zach introduced himself, "Hi, Adrian! I'm your big brother!"

Is your jaw on the floor? Mine was.

The moment I had agonized over daily for years had just caught me by total surprise. There were no words. But there were plenty of cameras, and though I'm grateful for it now, it was a little awkward at the time. I don't know how many people were there, but it felt like we were surrounded. Incredible joy and relief swept over me, and I really struggled to contain this. I shared a few pictures of Carlos, Christian, and Julian with him and told him how long we had waited for this. It was a lot to take in. I wanted to steal him away from everyone there and find a place where we could just figure it all out, but thought better of it. (First impressions are important; let him find out I'm crazy later, right?) It wasn't easy, but I thought it was best just to leave it with that little introduction and give him some space and time to absorb it all. I think time might've been what I needed, too. Too many highs and lows in one day just isn't good for the crazies, if you know what I mean.

I came down from my high pretty quick that night. Fear set in and by the next morning I was down in the dumps again. What if it had all been too quick for him? Would it be unreasonable for him to have been angry with me? What if he didn't even like me? What if his only interest was to meet his brothers?

Let me tell you, there were about a million other questions that overwhelmed me and not many of them, if any at all were good scenarios. Anxiety, panic, fear... how much more could I take? It was then I called Shell to meet for brunch. I had to get out of the house and shake this off. In the few minutes that I had before Shell was meeting me, I made a last minute decision to visit Lisa's grave and search for some sort of peace and understanding about it all. I'm not sure I found understanding, but within an hour after brunch, Al called asking if I was interested in meeting the kids for dinner Monday after school. Did he really have to ask? Maybe this was Lisa's blessing. I told myself it was; I felt it in my heart. I wasn't going to fight this anymore. "Just let it happen, Nik!"

My nerves were shot and I was a total wreck when Monday rolled around, but my mom (my rock) was by my side when we strolled in (late) to the restaurant. Immediately, my fears dissipated and my nerves were calmed. Seeing Zach and Lydia again was just what I needed. However this continued, it had to be a good thing. I was left that night with a great happiness words cannot describe. I won't say I haven't had moments of darkness and panic since then, but what I can tell you is, though we may be the blind leading the blind here, we are moving forward. This is just the beginning; just another chapter and, baby, this is gonna be a good book!