Hey Plain Jane

Enormous news. At 9AM yesterday (Wednesday) we got the call. We are officially approved by The Philippine government adoption authority, ICAB, as prospective adoptive parents!  Yes!
Philippa from the state adoption department called with the news of a confirmation email from ICAB, and I just burst out crying. The long wait of 18 weeks just fell away from under my feet and I was amazed!

It means we are on their list of parents who are able to adopt a Filipino child. Anytime after mid 2010, we could get that allocation phone call. It means that child who is destined to join our family  is already alive, is already walking the earth. Boy or girl? I wonder.

In honour of this extraordinary turning point in our lives, I cooked a special dinner. Pork Adobo, a Filipino favourite. It was so yum, laced with excitement and love. 

Praise God from whom all blessings flow. Amen.

blue roses

Originally uploaded by annwood

The sweetness in the world is almost overwhelming when you see it.

My mind immediately wants to deconstruct it though in a flurry of “okay, how did she make that? let’s see“.

What makes it frustrating and also very special is that this sort of beautiful, delicate and witty work sells out within minutes of being put up. They are precious.

So little time. So little time to even see it, let alone try to purchase or even to make an inspiration of it. Behold and be awed.

PS. Since the last post, indeed the said dossier has been sent to the Philippines. There remains a feeling of thank goodness. It took so long and so much effort! We have about a three month wait on our hands to receive a confirmation of yes or no from the Philippine government on our eligibility to adopt. So a Christmas present for us, perhaps?

I am coming up for air after a long period of frantic, frantic activity. Toward what? I’m on the road to everywhere.
House stuff; looking at houses, not buying houses, renovating to sell, not ready to sell, firing architect amid disgruntled emails of mutual disappointment and frustration, hiring new architect amid serious financial flummery.
The very latest is that we are building on our land but building a take away home; that is, a kind of kit home. Amazing to think that once they begin to build the home, it will take just 12 weeks to complete. But, here’s the catch! We are in the queue. The queue is long. It could take ten weeks for them to begin our build.  

then, of course…

dossier |ˈdôsēˌā; ˈdäs-|noun a collection of documents about a particular person, event, or subject.
ORIGIN late 19th cent.: from French, denoting a bundle of papers with a label on the back, from dos ‘back,’ based on Latin dorsum.

Our “bundle of papers” made in the hope of receiving a little bundle of joy. Yes. Gathering this massive dossier of the final adoption home file to be forwarded to the Philippines adoption authorities has been a major focus. How hard could it be? Plenty hard. Most of it is now done. Just awaiting a few bibs and bobs to complete the dossier. It goes on.

When this final dossier is finally shipped off, I am told one feels enormous relief. I suspect this may be the case because once it leaves our shores and is in the hands of the Philippine adoption authority, it is out of our control. We will have said our piece, made our case, laid it all out in all its great detail. We will have reached a point where we can safely say, we did our best, we can do no more, it is with God.

I think of who might be the child waiting in the wings for us. I see pictures of Filipino children, or see young children who might be from the Philippines, and I cannot help but fantasize about them being my child. I am so nervous, so impatient, so completely excited about it, all at once.

I popped into our local Asian food store this morning. It’s run by a Filipina woman, who informed me that tonight was the monthly Filipino get together, church service and feast in the city. I’ve known about this event for ages but have never been organised enough to make it. Long time ago now but I was invited to come to it by a Filipina baxter* who owns a bakery and restaurant in the middle of town. Her lovely name is Milla, and she bakes the most superb Pinoy doughnuts imaginable.

So tonight we fronted up to the Catholic church service at St.Joseph’s, a modest crowd of Filipinos, singing a combination of Tagalog and English hymns. As the only Anglo-Australians there were conspicuous as all get out. Jack was jumping for joy at it all at first. Surprise, surprise, Jack is a spiritual soul, and at the tender age of four comes out with statements and questions about God, heaven, hell, life and death that would make the hairs on the back of your neck rise up. He has taken to Bible stories, speaks often of God, and loves the Lord’s Prayer as I’ve been teaching him this week.

More than this enthusiasm for Biblical stories and prayer wordage, Jack is seriously and keenly a seeker of religious doctrine.  A couple of weeks ago, just as we were in a hurry out the door, running late for something, he asked  Mum? Who’s the devil? I told him I’d explain later, but he put his little foot down. No! I need to know now!!! he pressed with all the urgency of a boy headed for the seminary. A brief history of Beelzebub and his indecorous fall from Grace, ensued. Jack was slack-jawed with fascination.

Just where he’s come up with this soteriological gene, we are unsure. Well no, scratch that, I’m very sure he got it from me. I used to be the missionary.

But as the hymns and the prayers went on in this evening’s service, Jack got more than just fidgety. It was like he swallowed some worms or something. I’m sure my mum never let me get away with wiggling about the church pews. The second the service was finished Milla came over to us and invited us to stay for supper. She immediately fascinated Jack, revving him up about the noodles and the chicken she’d made, and how he would be eating like a prince. Jack thought this was all good. He ate several of Milla’s sumptuous Adobe chicken drumsticks, licking his chops and glowing with multiculturalism.  Jack never has seen fit to eat chicken drumsticks in his life. Suddenly it’s manna. He was so unusually excited at it all, and declared Milla was wonderful and that we should come back to this church again. Upon leaving he threw his arms around her waist and hugged so long I was obliged to prize him off.

In any case it was a fun introduction to the local Pinoy community. They were all so open and welcoming, just like every other Filipino crowd I’ve come across. We have been invited to the June 20 Philippine Independence Day celebration. Jack is beside himself. There may be more chicken.

* Not often I get to use this archaic word, baxter, meaning a female baker.

These two egg cups (they’re hardly cups!) are just ripping me up with their cuteness. I bought them from the local suburban mall gift shop the other day. They’ll be used on Easter morning this year and hopefully years to come. I remember cups, plates and special china objects like these from my own childhood. Remembering those long-gone pretty pieces fills me with smiles. I’m hoping these beautiful egg cups will do something of the same from Jack. But why did I buy two, not one? For that matter why did I buy only two, when there are three in our small family of Mum, Dad and boy? Surely I should have bought only one (for Jack) or three altogether (one for John, Jack and I each). My reasoning is, as always, about the second child, the long-time-still-coming adopted son or daughter whomever, where-ever they may be.  He or she will have one, and Jack will have one. So often I make allowance like this.

In any case, I have two of them and they are excruciatingly sweet. I found some pastel paper eggs as well, which you can see in the background, resting inside some antique egg cups my friend Susan gave me. Susan’s coming to town to spend Easter with us.

And yes, as promised, here above is the detailed fruit of my labour on mini bits of fabric last night. I sewed this one up today and put a little puff in it. I love the wee puff of stuff look, like a painted samosa, and to feel it’s soft spongey vulnerability is heavenly.

I finished two actually. The prototype is the round one, which was rather silly and raggedy about the edges. That’s what proto-types are for…..note to self; no round birdie num-nums, just square ones!