I wish I had the luxury of being in love with idea of love.

Instead, I live with the reality of love every day and every night. I get the dishes and the laundry. The snores that wake me up at night as he lays beside me in our bed. Making coffee every morning even though I don't drink coffee, but he does. I don't get flowers anymore, not that he ever did. The ideal of love never included these things. Maybe they were in the fine print.

 He is the person that I turn to when I am afraid of what may be or what may not be. He understands that it is not the fear of failure that paralyzes my pen, but my fear of success. I don't really mind washing his socks and dirty underwear. It needs to be done and he's tried doing it himself, but he's laundry-impaired.

I wanted a hero, someone larger than life to love me for me. To paraphrase what Rosie O'Donnell's character said in Sleepless in Seattle- 'I wanted to be in love in a Hollywood movie.'

I wanted the fairy tale, the knight errant to sweep me off my feet. Nobody gets the fairy tale. Not even Cinderella and Snow White probably. Did you ever notice they always end the story at the wedding with  they lived happily ever after. What a crock!

Would I trade him now for what had been my ideal? No way!

He loves me more now than the day we met. The mundane things, the everyday things bind us closer together. We take care of each other with our whole hearts, for our whole lives.

 

Sociological Norms at Work

John and I went to luncheon meet and greet organized by FAFS. There were no assigned seats at the tables.

It was interesting to see how people seemed to sort themselves by ethnicity. African Americans only sat with other African Americans. The Hispanics sat together, and invited us, the only Anglos, to sit with them. When other Anglos came later, they joined us at the same table (The tables sat 10.). John was only one of three men there, including the people from the state and contract agencies.

 

I am miffed at one of the women who sat with us. One of the people from the local office was talking to John and myself, saying she knew who we were, she had seen our file, wanted welcome us, and wanted our phone number and address so she could contact us directly to answer a question John raised about waivers.

She handed us a paper to write down our info.  John wrote it down, and  started to hand it back, when this woman from my table asked to see it. She took it and wrote something on it and handed it to the woman from the local office. She had written on it that she wanted to adopt a sibling group with the same profile as what we had told her we were asking for. I wanted to reach across the table and bitch slap her. She told us earlier that she had almost lost her license due to violations. She is already in the process of adopting one child already.

 

I had needed the stroking the woman from local was giving me and this wench stole my joy.

Full Moon

Ever since I have moved here, I have felt isolated creatively from other people like me. I love where I live but for the arts I have always had to go to Philly or NYC to feed my artistic soul. I get nibbles from the Appel Farm in Elmer, but that isn't always enough. This was part of my reasons for taking the classes from Gotham and applying to the Master's program at Rowan.

 

Last night, I received a phone call from a woman whom I had never met inviting me to a woman's group meeting here in town. All she knew about me was that my husband was the new science teacher at her school and my phone number. She teaches art at his school.

 

Apparently, all the women are community minded like me and  are creative like me. I met a classically trained opera mezzo soprano who dabbles in poetry. Her sister, who is also in a the group, is a published poet. The others were artists in one medium or another. The feeling of energy that flowed through the house was intoxicating. Some of the ladies went into another room to beat drums and  play flutes to honor the full moon. I know that is a pagan ritual from a former co worker of my husband's that is a practicing Wiccan. You would think I would have been offended, but I wasn't. All these women live in my town and want to be my friend. We seem to see the world through the same eyes. I can accept them as they first accepted me.

John Made Me Cry

I didn't sleep very well last night. We had planned to go to DYFS this morning here in town to introduce ourselves to the social worker. I don't think anyone has done that before, by the way they reacted. They were extremely nice and gave us a  name and phone who will assist us. Apparently, the adoption unit has not been integrated into my local office yet.

 

Afterwards, John dropped me off at Acme while he went to buy gas. He picked me up later outside. In the van, he gave me a bag from Hallmark  inside was a pink wrapped package. I unwrapped it as he drove. It was a poem and a frame that began Dear Mom,.... I started to cry. John didn't know what to do. He almost pulled over, but he kept on driving.

 

I have wanted to become a mother for so long. Twelve years of disappointment and heartache are about to an end. We just know it.

 

The woman we spoke to at DYFS called us to tell us that she had received an email from the person who had been helping us at the SRO. He had sent out a broadcast email to let everyone know that we were open and our criteria.

 

We'll see what's next...

Oh, Happy Day!

Today was our licensing inspection from the state. We PASSED!

It will take about two weeks from now to get the paperwork saying what he told us.

 I have to say that I have had an easier time dealing with DYFS, than with the subcontractors that they have hired.

 

Everyone I have dealt with on the government level has been professional and polite. I am actually going to write a letter to the supervisor of one the people I have been working with the summer to tell them what a special person they have in him.

 

Now that we eligible, we can seriously start looking!

News or God Bless JJ!

We got the phone call from the Office of Licensing today. They will be coming to see us Monday for our final inspection. This is happening so quickly because of the assistance we received from the social worker who did our PATH training. As soon as the gentleman from Trenton comes on Monday and signs off, we are a licensed adoption home.

 

I could be a mother very soon now. OH MY GOD!!!!!!

Thirteen Years Ago This Morning

Dearest John,

 

Thirteen years ago this morning, you told me you felt the same way.

The equation that expresses how much I love you is still infinity plus one.

I know you still feel the same way.

 

 

Love,

 

K.

 

 

Books, Inq.

Books, Inq.

I love it when it smells like this

I love the briny smell we get here from time to time. It reminds me that I live near salt water. Even with the a/c on tonight I can smell the salty smell creeping up from the marshes (Around here they are called "meadows") that divide the land from the water. I live up the street from the Salem River which is actually a tidal estuary of the Delaware River. We don't flood here, but we get that delicious smell just before it rains.

You scored as Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan. You are an evangelical in the Wesleyan tradition. You believe that God's grace enables you to choose to believe in him, even though you yourself are totally depraved. The gift of the Holy Spirit gives you assurance of your salvation, and he also enables you to live the life of obedience to which God has called us. You are influenced heavly by John Wesley and the Methodists. Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan 89% Fundamentalist 71% Reformed Evangelical 54% Roman Catholic 50% Neo orthodox 46% Charismatic/Pentecostal 43% Classical Liberal 21% Modern Liberal 21% Emergent/Postmodern 18% What's your theological worldview? created with QuizFarm.com

I kinda knew that, but just checking....

the Provacateur (73% dark, 26% spontaneous, 44% vulgar)

your humor style: VULGAR | COMPLEX | DARK You'll crack on anything, and you're often witty, even caustic, about it. Therefore, your sense of humor is polarizing. You're transgressive, and you've got a seriously sharp 'edge'--maybe too much for some folks. If they get you, people think you're one of the funniest (and smartest) people in the world. If they don't, they think you're an ass. Whatever, right? While some might question your judgement, your comic intellect is unquestionably respected. PEOPLE LIKE YOU: Chris Rock - Lenny Bruce - George Carlin

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 99% on dark You scored higher than 0% on spontaneous You scored higher than 50% on vulgar

Link: The 3 Variable Funny Test written by jason_bateman on OkCupid Free Online Dating

The Longest Afternoon of My Life

JJ called us this morning. He had located our homestudy and had a few questions for us. He asked about my graduate school and how the loss of my income would affect the household. He asked about the peeling paint in the dining room that was higher than my head. He asked about what he received from the EB police department about what happened seven years ago. We had been accused of neglect by an anonymous neighbour that the police and adult protective service found groundless. In fact no one had filed a report, just a notation of the call.

 

He was going to run it to his supervisor today and if his supervisor had any concerns they would call this afternoon. If not, JJ was sending our paperwork to Trenton to Office of Licensing, our last hurdle to become  adoptive parents.

 

The minute hand of the kitchen clock staggered like a drunk while the hour hand seemed to be playing catch up as the afternoon limped along. Five o' clock felt like fifty years in the distance. The afternoon passed into evening. The phone was mute.

 

We have passed our homestudy.  We are ready to become parents in the eyes of the state of New Jersey. Now they come to pass our home in the coming week after a final inspection.

 

The past no longer holds me back.  I have escaped it's snares. I was straightforward and honest and have been vindicated.

 

 

WE ARE GOING TO BE PARENTS !!!!!!!!!!!!!

Spamalot or Lunch at Sardi's

On Wednesday, John and I arose early and drove to Camden to take the light rail to Trenton. If you have never taken the River Line before, you should. The view from our car as we glided along the Delaware River reminded once again how beautiful my home state is. We changed to New Jersey Transit in Trenton. Linda and Alex joined us in Princeton Junction.

I didn't tell Linda about the tunnel. If I had told her, she would  have canceled our trip to see Spamalot. She is one of my closest and dearest friends, but all of her phobias make traveling with her like traveling with Adrian Monk. If we didn't "forget" to tell her  about all the things that we know she has fears about, she would never leave her house. So we didn't tell her that the train goes into a tunnel under the Hudson or that we would be taking the subway to Times Square. We neglected to mention that we would be taking a glass elevator to a revolving restaurant 44 stories above Manhattan. Her husband did tell her that we were in the Mezzanine section in the Shubert Theatre. ( Everything in bold is something that has to do with her fear of tunnels, heights, and spinning.)

 

We arrived in Manhattan with time to have a proper lunch before the show.  So we walked the two blocks from the subway to the theatre to look for a restaurant. We found one across from the Shubert, Sardi's.

It was everything it's reputations says it is and more. We were seated right away. The service was excellent and so was the food. They were no more expensive than the restaurants in Philly or NYC. Many years ago an exfriend of our little foursome would call me up in the middle of the night drunk from his bathtub to tell me that I was not good enough to take to The Russian Tea Room ( No longer in exsistence.) or any of the other legendary restaurants in NYC, like Sardi's. It was the way he treated me  and lied to both John and me that made him an ex-friend to me and an ex-best friend to John.

 

John has gone out of his way since we have been together to show me that I am loved and valued. The question isn't whether I am good enough to eat at particular restaurant, but is that restaurant good enough for me?