We've had a couple of full weeks around here lately, I guess it's that time of year. In the next 3 weeks alone, we have 3 graduations, a wedding, and a milestone birthday to celebrate. Some day, I will look back and wonder where all of these days have gone.
This past Saturday, we attended the wedding of a co-worker (mine); traveling west to be there. I also did the wedding cake, which was a lot of fun and maybe a little stress, but that's part of the job. Driving with several sheet cakes and a large table cake in the back of your car for several hours made me a little nervous, but we made it all intact. It turned out well and everyone seemed to have a great time.
We also recently visited a new school for Caleb. He has been in speech therapy for almost a year now and has been making a lot of progress. But the past couple of months, I have been a little concerned that maybe he doesn't have as many consonants as he did. It almost seems like he has regressed a little: words he tried to say months ago, I cannot get him to even acknowledge anymore. I voiced these concerns to his speech therapist who agreed with me and said she was glad I noticed because she has been a little concerned, too. Now, taking into account that my son came to the US at 18 months of age and didn't speak a word of English anyway, plus having a mouth full of scar tissue from a repaired cleft palate--it's enough to set anyone back some. But we also can't sit back and say, oh well, that's just how he is. So, we visited a preschool that he could possibly attend next fall. It's through the public school system and he can receive speech therapy several times a week instead of twice a month as he is currently getting. The program is for kids age 3-5, so we went to see a classroom. My first thought when we walked in the door was, "oh my gosh, all these kids are so big!" Caleb did not seem big enough or old enough to be anywhere near that classroom. But the teacher explained that half the class is 5 and attending kindergarten next year, and Caleb won't be starting (at the earliest) for a few months anyway. He just seemed so small. I know, I know, I'm just being some kind of overprotective parent. I don't care.
But I am interested in this program and we sat through some of their activities and classes. Russ is going to go and visit next week to see what he thinks. We don't even have to make a decision right away, but we are thinking ahead depending on how things go with the speech.
On a further note, we also recently filed immigration paperwork for baby 2. I'm not sure how to refer to this child. We do not have a match yet, so there is no name or identity to think of yet. I guess I'll have to be vague for a while. Anyway, before traveling for an international adoption, for many countries (including China), you must file immigration paperwork. It's a pre-approval of sorts. This way, when we return to the US, our new baby will automatically be a citizen when we arrive. To file this for this status requires filling out a 10 page application and sending a copy of our homestudy. This was recently delayed because our final copy had a typo that needed to be corrected and it took several more days to finish and remail. As I've said a million times before, such is life in the adoption world. We're hoping to hear that it's been approved and receive an appointment to be fingerprinted at the Dept of Homeland Security. Of course, there is always a chance that it will not be approved--well, just need to be changed--so we will have to make the changes to the application and/or homestudy and then send it back again. And it keeps going from there.....
On a final note, in the midst of all of our traveling, Owen lived with my parents for a while. He loves being at the farm and they, too, seem to enjoy his presence (at least more than I do at times). So, he got to stay at his favorite place for several days and to repay my generous parents for that: he ate my dad's hearing aids. Anyone who criticizes a beagle owner for having a fat dog doesn't understand that beagles will eat anything. This proves my point. Apparently, my dad thought it was safe to leave them out of his ears and on a coffee table. Obviously not. He left the room briefly and returned to find Owen sitting on the floor, chewing them up. How's that for gratitude?
Ok, I'm off to call the insurance company.......
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