Too Long

Princesa,

It has been too long since I wrote.  I am sorry.  I have given you reasons before and I don't think you need to hear them again, I think you will understand perfectly well, but I do want to make sure that you know that even when I go a long time between letters, it does not mean I am thinking of you or missing you any less.  I still fall asleep every night snuggling Ellfant and thinking of you.  I still pray night and day for your health, safety, and happiness... and for you to come home.  I still see you in every little detail of my every day.

Yesterday I opened the closet to get out a coat to wear, and saw your flower umbrella that you got for your seventh birthday, and the pink rain jacket we bought because you didn't have one to wear to school, and I wished you were here to use them.  I allowed myself to part with a few of your things - outfits, shoes, things like that - so that your friends J and N can use them.  You should see the pride they take in wearing "A's clothes".  How they tell me they miss you every time they put them on.  How my heart smiles seeing things that used to be yours bringing other children joy.

You're going to be 11 soon.  I thought double digits was hard, but 11... goodness.  The day I said goodbye to you, you were 9.  Little.  11 is a pre-teen!  I hate so much that I have missed these 21 months of your life.  I wonder what has changed about you.  Which of your little quirks you have retained, if you've gained any new ones, what parts of who you were when I saw you last that you have outgrown.

Stores are full of fun spring and Easter goodies.  I long to put together an Easter basket for you, to pick up another pair of adorable Easter socks in the dollar aisle, to take you to the store and have a fashion show to pick out the very best swimsuit for summer.  Mom made Paczki last weekend and the weekend before... and I think about how if you were here, I'd barely get any!  But I wouldn't mind, because it would mean you were here.

I can't look forward to your birthday this year.  It was so very hard for me last year, even though I put a smile on and celebrated for you.  We'll celebrate again this year... but it won't be the same without you.  I'll miss picking out the perfect presents and watching you open them and exclaim "Oh, I just did want this!" even when you'd never seen it before in your life.  I hope you'll have cake and presents and ice cream and love wherever you are.

But I don't want my letter to be all about being sad and missing you because you were never one to dwell on the negative, the things you couldn't control - you were one to seize the day, enjoy the moment we were in.  So I'll fill you in on our 'moments'... on one condition... you tell me everything you can remember that put a smile on your face since I last saw you, when I see you again.

Mom is still working a lot, but she does it for our family and I know she loves and thinks of you all the time.  She's been cooking a lot of fun treats lately that I'm sure you'd be glad to help her out with... at least the licking the beaters part.  She misses sharing her bagels with you in the morning, you helping her dry the dishes.

Danny is going to college now, he's mostly taking general classes because he's still not quite sure what he wants to do 'when he grows up', but he seems to like it.  He plays video games all the time, as usual.  He's also driving now (I know, scary, right?) so there's an extra person to run errands around here.  He had a friend over last weekend... and they, you know, played video games while sitting next to each other, haha.

M doesn't come over every day anymore because she's almost 15 years old and big enough to stay by herself for a few hours - but we get together on weekends sometimes, or even weeknights especially if it's going to be cold in the morning so I can drive her to school.  We go shopping, play games, go out to eat... a couple weeks ago we went to Fort Rapids (the indoor water park I took you to where we saw some of our friends from church) and had a really good time.  Wished you were there.  We'll go when you come home.

I know you'll want an update on the kitties... they are doing good.  I think I wrote to you before that Boo went to kitty heaven, but that I got another kitten and named him Marbles - he's about a year and a half old now.  He and Tiger (or, "Stripey Cat" as you liked to call him) get along really well, even though they beat up on each other and chase each other around the house a lot.  Marbles got out of the house the other day when it was snowing and really cold... Danny and I had to drag him in from under the deck!

As for me... I worked for a few months as a nanny for a 3 year old boy and a newborn little girl.  I quit that job a couple weeks ago because it was just too stressful - funny how other people's kids are so much harder to handle than you guys!  I'm back to looking for jobs and helping Shannon with your friends J and N, and little M who has turned into a toddler since you last saw her, and R who was born last summer.  I love being at their house because they know and understand everything you and I went through.  Shannon understands where you're coming from more than I think you even know.  One day maybe you can talk to her about it.  I've also been doing the same stuff, helping orphans find families and getting them home, and seen a lot of beautiful families in the process.  And I taught myself how to make really cool bracelets and if you were here I'd make you a pink and purple one.  Actually, I do have a surprise for you when you go home... for all our missed birthdays, Easters and Christmases.  I can't wait to give it to you.

I wish I could hear from you and hear how you're doing, what you're up to, who your friends are, how you like school... we're going to have a lot of catching up to do when I see you again!

I love you Princess.  I love you like the moon at night - big, and round, and warm, and bright.

I love you.  Goodnight.

Love you forever,
"Kai"

Pretty Picture

Dear Princess,

I haven't written to you in a long time, besides last night.  I'm sorry.  Sometimes it's just too hard, and I know I have to stay strong so I can be here for you when you come home.  But lately, for some reason, I've just been up late every night thinking of you, and wanting to tell you so many things.

Today I spent all day across the street at Shannon's house with her, Mike, the kids, and our friend Hayley and her family.  We had a brief conversation that made me think of you and choked me up, and when I came home, I was still thinking of you, and thinking of how even in the short couple of months you knew them, Shannon, Mike and the kids became your family just like they are mine.

When crisis struck for you and me, I relied on Shannon a lot.  She came over as soon as I got home on that last day... she sat with me in the front yard while I cried and talked to a police officer and talked to your grandma.  Friday night after her kids were in bed, she brought me over pizza and pop and an offer to talk, cry, or whatever I needed.  We talked a lot that night, and she made me feel better.  She understood the situation we were in better than anyone, and she told me she knew that you knew that I wanted you, that I was fighting for you... and that you wouldn't forget it.  I needed to hear that so badly.  She spent the next couple days with me... because I just desperately needed to not be alone.

The next time I saw your friends J and N, they were eating lunch at the kitchen table, and J asked to say a prayer.  She said "Bless Mommy and Daddy and Mike and Katie and N and M and grandmas and grandpas and uncles and aunts and everyone we love, and especially pray for A, so she can be safe and come home to Katie's house and play with us some more.... and that's all."  When Shannon looked over I had tears in my eyes.  Your friends loved you so much, that even though they were just kids themselves, they remembered to pray for you.

It was only a couple months ago that I was standing in their kitchen and noticed something.  Your picture, your 2nd grade school picture, was hanging on their refridgerator.  I'd given it to them a while back, so the girls would have it to remember their friend.  I commented "Aww.  It's my baby!" and Shannon told me the picture had been hanging there since I'd given it to her, so that they'd think of you every day.

I was so touched.  Sweetie, as much rotten luck as we've had, we've had good luck too.  We've had amazing people put in our lives.  Shannon and Mike and J and N love you and think about you and pray for you to this very day.  They support me and listen to me when I need a shoulder to cry on because I just miss you so much.  They know the situation we're in better than anybody else, they know how hard it is, and they care.  And just because you're not here right now doesn't mean they've stopped caring.  Not one bit.  They haven't forgotten you any more than I have... and trust me, forgetting you is something I will NEVER do.

So even when you feel alone... like I do sometimes when I miss you so much that I think nobody could possibly understand... I want you to know that you're not alone.  You have people, just like I do, who are thinking of you and praying for you, even if you don't know it... and they'll be right here with me to hug you and welcome you whenever you come home!

Don't forget... I love you like the moon at night... big, and round, and warm, and bright.
I love you, goodnight.
<3 - "Kai"

The Last Day

I think about it all the time.

The last day.

The last hug.

The last words.

The first tears.

I woke up before the sun and put on my brave face before I woke you.

I practiced holding back the fear, dread, sorrow, and disgust that had been festering in me all the day before.

I shook you awake and readied you to leave the place that had been our haven for almost a week.

We said goodbye to the ocean.

I drove us to the shuttle bus.  We climbed in and I buckled you safe in your booster seat.

Every mile we drove closer to the airport, my shoulders felt a little heavier.

We got donuts for breakfast.  The anxiety in my stomach kept me from eating much of mine.

I like to think you had no idea.

I tried not to let on.

We boarded the first plane.  I let you pick, aisle or window.  You picked window.  We watched Florida out of sight.  We played with play-doh.  We watched the sun coming up over the ocean.  We looked through an I-Spy book.  We got drinks from the beverage cart.  You wore your Minnie Mouse ears the whole time.

In a plane, the miles go by faster.

By the time we landed in Washington DC, my stomach had sunk impossibly low.

We got lunch at Wendy's between flights.  You got barbecue sauce with your nuggets.  I couldn't eat, again.

I didn't want to get on the plane.

I kept hoping that somehow it would be delayed, cancelled, diverted.  I didn't care how or why.

It wasn't.

We boarded.  I took a few last pictures.

I hope I'm imagining an edge of nervousness behind your smile.

I know I'm not imagining it in mine.

As I watched the ground grow closer, I drew you near me.

It was time to tell you.

All the feelings I'd been trying to hide all day... you were about to feel them too.

I had tried to keep that from you as long as I could.

I told you that I was going to take you to meet some people.  People that we'd never met before, but I knew they were nice people because I'd talked to them the previous day.

I told you I needed your help.  I told you they could help us, but only if you told them the truth.

You didn't want to.

Maybe I shouldn't have pushed you.

But I did.  I asked you if you wanted them to help us.  You said yes.  I asked you if you would tell them the truth so they could do that.  You said yes.

I wonder if you knew then, or if you didn't know until later, that I was asking too much of you?

I wonder if you knew you wouldn't be able to do what I'd asked?

Wheels touched down.

You told me you just wanted to go 'home'.  "To the cats".  To OUR house.

I told you I did too... but we had to tell the people the truth first.

This time I wasn't the only one carrying a weight of stress on my shoulders as we walked through the airport.

It was palpable how there was no longer any distance between us and that which we feared.

I was afraid to let you out of my sight even to use the restroom (but I did).

As we sat in the baggage claim waiting for my mom, the stress mounted.

I tried to lighten the mood, playing games with you, chatting about things of little consequence.

Minutes lasted for days.  I wished them away.  I wanted to get the hard part over with.

Now I wish I had those minutes back.

When my mom finally came, we both hugged her.  You told her, too, that you wanted to go home to the cats.

She, too, reassured you that we would... we just had one stop to make.

I wonder if your palms sweated like mine did on that car ride.

We walked into the building together.  I asked for someone to help us.  They tried to send us away.  I begged.  I insisted.

Things didn't go as planned.

I had wanted you to feel safe.  Safe enough to share the burdens of your heart.

You knew you weren't.

I tried to hide the phone calls from you.  The angry voices.

It was because of that that I almost missed the last hug I gave you.

A woman came out to take you to a room to talk.  Her name was Katie too.  I remember telling you that if her name was Katie she MUST be our friend.

I gave you a hug.

I told you I loved you.

I watched you out of sight.

You didn't want to go without me.

You were scared.

I pushed you too much.

No matter how much you might have wanted to do what I'd asked, your secrets stayed locked away.

The woman came back without you.

She told me you hadn't told her anything.

She told me we would have to leave.

Without you.

I asked her if I could say goodbye to you.

"I don't think that's a good idea," was her response.

She told me you were already crying for me.

I broke.

Panic struck me.  Terror.

I begged her to protect you.  To tell you I loved you.

She said she would.

I clung to my mom and cried.

She, too, demanded your safety.

We were given a chance to gather a few of your belongings to give to you.

I was shaking.  I wasn't thinking clearly.

I don't even remember what was in the bag.

I gave it to the woman named Katie.  I asked her again to make sure you knew we loved you.

Then I did the hardest thing I have ever done in my entire life.

The hardest thing I will ever do.

I walked out of that building without you.

As we walked down the sidewalk, my mom and I, a thought crossed my mind.

Another time.  A time when I had been on the inside of a window similar to the ones we were walking by.  A mimed reassurance.

I turned to look in the windows just in time.

There you were.

Behind two inches of glass.

Sitting stiffly in a chair, alone.

Looking right back at me.

When you saw me you stood, and came to the window.

I immediately stopped the flow of my tears and forced a smile.

I pointed to my eye.

Then I crossed my arms.

Then I pointed at you.

You pointed to your eye.

You crossed your arms.

You pointed at me.

Then you held up two fingers.

I touched my fingers to the glass.

You touched your fingers to the glass.

I tore my body from where it was cemented to the ground.

I waved.  I mouthed "bye-bye".

I forced another smile.

Then I turned away.

I walked to the car.

I cried all the way home.

I failed you.

I'm sorry.



A hug of reassurance.

A signed 'I love you' through two inches of glass.

A flood of salty tears.

And that was the last day I spent with you.

I Know You

Dear Princess,

Not a day goes by that I don't remember the little things about you.  Tonight I was sitting here with my cat, Marbles, who will be a year old next month, and realized you'd never even seen him.  It's been that long - eleven months and eleven days - since I saw you last.  That hurts my heart in a way I don't even know how to describe.

I'm working on a digital collage, when a picture comes up in my image search from the video to a Taylor Swift song.  Instantly I remember how much you loved her.  How you sang all the songs in the car, and had names for all of them... "The Princess One," "The Angel One"... I can still hear every note of your voice as you sat in the back seat of my car in your booster seat singing "I was... 'chanted to meet youuuuuu".  I remember the time White Horse was playing, and the lyric "Stupid girl, I should've known" played, and you piped up, "Stupid girl?!  That is NOT very nice!"  I smile when I remember.  It's one of the only times I genuinely smile anymore... when I remember the joy you brought to my life.

I know you.  I know you so well that every little detail reminds me.  Down to the color pink.  If I see pink and purple balloons, I think how you would have wanted one.  I see a frilly skirt in the store, and I comment to whomever is with me "I would have had to buy this for A."  Sometimes I still find myself wandering around the girls' clothing department of stores, checking for your size in all the cutest outfits, sometimes collecting them to show whomever I'm with, and then finding myself sadly putting them back because I don't have you to dress up in them anymore.

Barbecue sauce reminds me of you.  You loved  barbecue sauce, you put it on everything.  There's still a little cup of it on my dresser that we got at Wendy's in Dulles on our way home almost a year ago.  Once, we were going through a drive thru, and for once you hadn't reminded me to get barbecue sauce (you almost always did), but I remembered and asked for it specifically.  As we pulled out of the parking lot, you said "Thank you, Katie," and I was puzzled, and I glanced back at you and asked "For what?"  You said "For remembering to get me barbecue sauce."  And I never forgot again.

Candy dots remind me of you, because when we were in St. Augustine, we saw them at the candy store (you know, the one I spent an arm and a leg in?) and I asked you if you'd ever had them, and you said no, so we bought some.  We bought so much candy that day that we never got around to eating them.  They're on my dresser with the barbecue sauce - I'm not going to eat them without you.

The local swimming pool reminds me of you.  How eager you were to go down the slides as soon as you were tall enough (which is NOTHING like the fearful little girl I take to the fair every year!) and how you always made me go down the blue one and you go down the orange one, because the blue one was dark inside and you didn't like it.  I remember how mad you were when we went to a different pool where you weren't tall enough for the slides.  That was the pool with the lazy river, in which you were always anything but lazy - doggy paddling in your little innertube so you'd go faster.  I remember how when you first started talking, around age four, you called it the "swimming park", only you couldn't quite say the words, so it came out "feminny pok" and it took us two weeks to figure out what you were talking about every time we drove by!

You love dresses and jewelry and getting all fancied up "like a princess".  You had a set of princess makeup that you got at your 7th birthday party that sometimes I'd wake up to find you covered in, and all your dolls and stuffed animals too.  I remember the time you put makeup on the lips of all the cat knick-knacks on the shelf in your room, and I was mad... but not too mad, because it was cute.  You loved silly bands and begged me to buy them for you, but then you gave them all to Noah at daycare, because more than anything else, you LOVED Noah.  You still talked about Noah years after the last time you saw him.  You ignored almost everyone else at your 7th birthday party to run around and wreck havoc on everything with him.  But you said he wasn't your boyfriend, just your friend that was a boy.  For all the dresses and jewels, you loved playing with boys.  Once, my friends and I took you and your brother to one of my favorite parks, and by the time we left, you'd met and agreed to marry no less than three little boys.  One of their moms sent me a picture of the two of you playing that I still have in my email.

You loved to swing, you would've stayed at the park to swing forever if I'd let you.  When you were little, little enough to be in a baby swing (which was really through preschool since you were so tiny), you used to tell me to push you "soopafas" (super fast).  But then you got a little older and decided you were scared to go too high... but you still loved the swings.

I know your favorite books.  You would recite every word of Chicka Chicka Boom Boom with me.  You liked to make me read the really long books on nights when we were already late for bedtime... books like Many Moons and Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.  You loved Buzz Said The Bee and The Cow That Went Oink.  You would get mad if I made the animal sounds, you had to point to each one and say them yourself - "Oink-ha, moo-ha, cockadoodledoo-ha, neigh-ha, cheep-ha..." so that it took us about twenty years to get through the book.  You thought "Oinoomoo?" was the funniest word in the whole book and would dissolve into giggles every time it was read.  You really loved I Spy books and would ask to do one before bed - you were so good at them it took no time at all.  We actually stopped reading Where's Waldo, because you found Waldo within two seconds of turning the page every time!  You did like to point out the other funny things in the Where's Waldo scenes though.

You couldn't sleep without a stuffed animal.  Ellfant, or your cats, or your webkinz.  I can't count the times I had to go hunt one of them down before you would go to bed.  You liked to put them all into sets too, babies and mommies.  You had to have babies and mommies of everything, and you had such an imagination that they were always playing together and zooming through the air.  For a while after you got your own room, which you'd never had before, I had such trouble keeping you in bed at night that I basically had to bribe you.  I'd give you three pennies on your dresser before bed, and every time I had to come back in there to put you back in bed, I would take one away.  You got really good at it and started keeping all your pennies, so we switched to two nickels.  By the time we went to Florida last summer, we were on one dime and you were steadily breaking the bank.

In second grade, your best friend was a girl named Love.  I have her picture in your yearbook.  You used to write letters to her in class, but you'd get distracted and not finish them so they'd come home in your folder.  Once you told her that you wanted to play with her on recess but you also wanted to play with someone else, so diplomatic, wanting to be everyone's friend.

You absolutely adored M.  You copied everything she did, down to the smallest details... the way she was sitting, what she wanted for dessert, what she said... sometimes it drove her crazy, but she loved you so she didn't mind too much.  You adored my mom too, and if she was around you'd cling to her like a magnet.  You liked to help her kick the laundry down the stairs, dry the dishes, set the table, feed the cats.  Oh, how you LOVED the cats, so much that I think they would've preferred a little less love!  Once, I caught you in the bathroom with both cats and towels piled up in the corner between the sink and the wall, presumably trying to trap them in one place so you could pet them.  When we got off the plane from Florida, all you wanted to do was go home and see the cats.  I'm sorry we didn't get to do that.

You loved to play Webkinz and you were better at some of the games than I was.  We would sit together and pick out the furniture for your animals' rooms, and when you went to bed I would stay up and play games to get you more Kinzcash to spend.

You loved the song Call Me Maybe, and you sang it constantly while we were in Florida.  You told me, "Oh, this is my favorite song!  Well, it's my other favorite song.  'Cuz my first favorite song is Taylor Swift."  That song would probably drive me crazy if it weren't for you, but to this day I still listen to it on purpose, because it reminds me of happy times with my little girl.

You took the greatest care of your baby, Princess.  You always made sure she was impeccably dressed, changed her clothes and diaper regularly, and before you went anywhere you had to make sure she was in her bed, all covered up, with her binky and her bottle.  You loved to wear the dress that matched Princess's dress, and you always wanted to take her places with you so people could see how you matched.  You loved your white dress shoes and called them "marching shoes" - I have no idea why.

If you were with someone who didn't know you well, you used to insist that you didn't like the crusts of your sandwiches, but if you were with me and you said that, I knew better and told you not to be silly, of course you did - and that was the end of it, because you knew I was right.  You loved strawberries with sugar, I'm pretty sure some of your teachers thought I was crazy sending a little baggie full of sugar in your lunch for you to dip your strawberries in.  You also loved those Cosmic Brownies with the rainbow chocolate chips on top, and oatmeal creampies... I think I still have a few of those lying around in a petrified state.  You loved Honey Bunches of Oats with almonds, but if I wasn't watching you'd pick out all the almonds to eat and leave the rest of the cereal sitting there... so eventually I just bought you almonds, and you turned your nose up at them!  You really loved apple juice, and when you were first learning to talk you called it "appadoos".

You had to have your bath the exact right temperature.  You didn't like to take showers.  You took your bath around room temperature, way too cold for me, but if it was any warmer you'd touch the water and shout "HOT!"  Still, every time you took a bath, you were shivering by the time you got out.  And even when you were big enough to get yourself in and out of the bath and dressed, you liked for me to sit with you and give you a big towel hug when you got out of the bath.  You probably would've stayed in the tub forever if I'd let you sometimes - you always wanted all your foam letters and toys in there, and then you'd flail around like a fish and get water everywhere.  The only time you took a fast bath was when the promise of something better after the bath was given - like ice cream or a favorite book.

You did gymnastics, and you loved to practice your flips at the park, but sometimes you were scared and did a modified version.  You liked me to braid your hair before gymnastics, just like I always did for M.  Your class was at the big red barn, and you always begged to play on the playground before or after.  At first, you were scared of the balance beam, but by your last class the night before we left for Florida, you were doing a front flip (with your teacher's help) on it!

You wanted everything with princesses or Dora on it.  I still can't walk through a store and see those things without thinking about how you would have commented "OH!  I really DO want this!"  You also liked to pick out a million dresses, go in the dressing room, and do a photoshoot with each one.  Which is good, because I liked to do that too - you just looked so cute in everything!

I could go on forever.  I could go through everything in your room and tell you a story about it.  I could look at thousands of pictures and tell you about every one of them.  If I took the time to write down every single thing I remember about you, I'd be writing for eight years - as long as I knew you.

I wonder about you today.  What's the same and what's different.  If I know my girl, you still love pink, and singing the most popular songs, and animals, and chicken nuggets.  Whatever it is you love, I hope you have as much of it as you could ever want.  I miss you, angel... but I will never forget one little bit of who you are. I know you.

And don't forget...

I love you like the moon at night; big, and round, and warm, and bright.

I love you, goodnight.

Ouv Foo!

Dear Princess,

Forgive me, I'm feeling sappy and warm hearted right now, even though I'm really not feeling well... and I was just looking at your Ellfant and remembering how I was mad when you painted his 'nails', but now I'm glad you did... because it reminds me of you.  And then it reminded my of another time, when you were only about three... and what I would've ordained as a miracle happened, were it in my power.

You were always my quiet one, unless you were having a fit.  Three years old and the only words you said were 'Mama' and 'Boo' (Blue), neither one of them usually at the appropriate time, object or person.

So imagine my surprise, when one day after I picked you up when I was done with school, we were taking a nap together in my bed like we always did (it was the only time I got cuddles!) and you woke up a little bit after I did.  I was fiddling with my cell phone like I usually did while I waited for you to wake, because you always slept on my left arm.  I saw you wake up and said "Good morning, Livvy!  I love you!"

You looked at me quizzically for a moment, and then said "Foo?"  And I replied "I love you," again, enunciating each word so you could hear exactly what I was saying.  And then out of nowhere, you opened your mouth again.

"Ouv Foo!"

Someone who didn't know you as well as I did might've mistaken it for toddler jabber, but I knew.  You said your first "I love you"... to me.  I smiled and praised, "Yes, Livvy, I love you, that's right!  I love you, I love you, I love you!"  Then I pulled up the voice recorder on my phone in case you said it again, and you didn't disappoint.  You echoed me.

"Ouv Foo, Ouv Foo, Ouv Foo!"

I still have that cell phone, the one with your first "I love you" on it.. and the charge cord... I'm not letting go of that.  Over and over you said it, once you realized how happy it made me.  I don't know if you knew what it meant, but you knew it was good and happy, and that we meant it toward each other - and that was enough for me.  Sometimes, I'd pull out that phone and show someone, "Look, here's my baby saying I love you!"  Nobody was ever as impressed as I was, but I was proud of you.  The first phrase I ever heard you say, and it wasn't "I want" or "That's mine"... it was "I love you".  Because that's just the sweet gentle little girl you always were.  Well - until you started trapping cats in corners and having meltdowns over popsicles, but hey, my sweet girl was still in there.

Days like today, it really makes me smile to remember those first little phrases.
Ouv Foo too, baby girl.
Katie

Regular Days

Dear Princess,

Tonight, I'm missing you, and I'm thinking not about any specific memory, but rather just the normal days, the ones we lived all the time... together.  So tonight I'm going to tell you about those... just in case you've forgotten.

For years, you spent nights here more often than not.  I moved my bedroom around to fit a second bed in it for you.  When your baby brother was born, I put a cosleeper next to my bed for him.  It was tight, but we were okay.

Every morning, I'd wake up very early - in the dark, I'd creep out of our room and get dressed in the hallway in the clothes I set out the night before.  I'd pack your lunch for school, pack up my things for college (for the years I attended), get breakfast ready for you and your brother if he was with us, and then wake you up.  You'd always wake up sleepy-eyed and slow moving, so I'd help you change into your clothes for the day and tell you things to make you laugh, things we said every day... then once you were dressed I'd tell you how pretty you were and we'd go downstairs.  I brushed your hair while you ate breakfast, got your brother dressed and fed if he was with us, then we went upstairs to brush your teeth.  Once you were ready to go, I'd pack us all up, load us into the car, you safely buckled up in your harness or your booster seat, and we'd head for your school.

I know they didn't like it, but I preferred to walk you into school, if not to your classroom at least to the door.  Not until you were in second grade did I get used to just dropping you off.  I hated turning you over to strangers, even though you loved school and you (usually) wanted to go).  When I left your school, I'd drop your brother off if I had school or work that day, or if not, go back home to spend time with him.  I always missed you on those days, I wished I could have my big girl home with me too.

I loved picking you up from school.  Sometimes I had to send my mom to do it, but I always preferred to do it myself.  I loved seeing the big grin on your face after your school day and seeing you come running toward me down the hall.  I loved looking in your backpack and seeing the latest schoolwork and art that came home with you.  I loved seeing you say goodbye to your friends... it was like a little glimpse into the individual you were becoming when you were with your peers.  I loved to have a snack waiting for you in the car (even though it came at the expense of my upholstery).

After school, we'd head home, finish snacks, and then spend some time playing.  Outside, if it was nice.  You always wanted to play outside.  While I was in college, I'd read textbooks while I watched you play.  Once I was finally out of college, I was free to just play with you.  On days when it wasn't nice enough to go outside, you'd pick the activity.  Coloring, playing a game, watching a show, playing with your babies, reading books, whatever.  Mostly you liked to follow me or my mom around the house and help with whatever we were doing.

When your little break was over, I'd direct you to the counter to do some homework.  When I was in college, I'd get my own homework out to work on it right next to you.  After that, I just focused on helping you.  I dug out all the manipulatives and things we kept from my and my brother's school years to help you learn.  I loved seeing the lightbulb come on and watching you get better and better at skills you used to struggle with.

By the time we were done, it was usually time for dinner.  You were picky, and sometimes it was a battle to get you to at least try everything, but other times, when we were eating something you particularly adored, your mealtime enthusiasm was enchanting.  I still cut up your bites for you, although you were starting to get the hang of it in the last year or so.  You still liked me to do it, and I didn't usually mind, as long as you asked nicely!  Before we ate, you would always remind us to say the prayer, and more often than not, you were the one to say it.  You said the prayer my family has always said before mealtimes, but you always added your own unique twist:

"God is Great
God is Good
And we thank Him
For our food
And thank you for Carol, and Katie, and McKenzie, and Danny, and the cats, and my friends like Jordan and Ava and Hannah... and my Mamaw and Papaw and my other Papaw and my mommy and daddy and my puppy dog and baby brother and... I think that's it.  Amen."

You were the best pray-er in the family, for sure.

After dinner was usually a little bit of playtime, then baths.  When you were littler you needed a lot of help so I'd give you your bath, then wrap you up in a towel and pick you up and sing "Hush Little Baby" to you.  Then you got too big for that, so I took to sitting on my laptop outside the bathroom while you took your bath (so I could help you with your long hair when you called me), and then reach the towel for you when you were done.  Even though you were bigger, I'd still wrap you up in it, then give you a hug.  If you were feeling sad, I'd even sing.  I'd brush your hair out, and you'd always tell me how you liked it when I brushed your hair because it didn't pull too much, but then you'd go "ow!" because I hit a tangle.  You'd get your pajamas on, we'd brush your teeth (I took a turn, then you took a turn... until you showed me that you could do just as good a job on your own!) and then it was your favorite part of 'bedtime'.

Invariably, I'd say "Okay, go pick a book!" and you'd run off to your/our room, spend ages choosing just the perfect book you wanted to read that night... I'd pick a book too... and I'd remind you that God always picked the Bible.  We read your book first.  Sometimes you preferred to do a page out of an I Spy book.  Then we'd read my book, which was always one of a select few with a "Goodnight, I love you" sort of message (my all time favorite being "I Love You, Goodnight" - the book that ends with "I love you like the moon at night.. big and round and warm and bright.  I love you, goodnight," and the one that made you laugh at the page that said "I love you like frogs love flies", that you eventually memorized and read along with me), and finally we'd read a story from your children's Bible and maybe talk about it a little.  Then I'd give you hugs and kisses and your Ellfant, turn on the TV channel that was just a bulletin board and music (before I could afford a night light), and either go to bed myself or leave the room until you were asleep.

Sometimes you talked in your sleep.  Every once in a while you cried in your sleep.  I always heard you.  When you were there, I sort of slept with one eye open... listening... waiting... in case you needed me.  If I heard you sounding upset, I'd just come sit on your bed and stroke your hair and talk soothingly to you until you calmed down.  You'd never even wake up.  Then I'd go back to bed and wait until morning when I could give you a good, big hug again.

I miss those days, Princess.  Even the ones when you didn't eat your vegetables and I had to put them in the refrigerator for the next time you told me you were hungry.  Because any day with one of your hugs in it, was a good day.  We didn't have to do anything extraordinary to be happy together... we just were.  And one day we will be again.  For now... well, it's not the same as hugging you, but you'd better bet I'm huggin' your Ellfant and thinking of you... just like I promised.

Love you forever,
"Kai"

Dying Eggs

Dear Princess,

It's Easter today, and I remembered this when we were dying eggs a couple days ago, so I thought now would be the perfect time to share a memory of dying eggs with you!

It was your first year doing it, you were almost three, sitting in your booster chair at the table with me, my mom, M, and my brother.  I remember thinking I was going to have to keep a close eye on you to prevent spills, among other things - you weren't exactly the tidiest kid - but I failed to take into account just how quickly you could create havoc!

So we're sitting there dying eggs, I've got one in a cup, and I've got one in a cup for you, that I keep using the spoon to pull out to show you how the color is getting darker.  It's sitting on your booster tray so you can reach it, just in case you should manage to figure out how to lift it up with the spoon.  I had to pull your fingers out of the dye a couple times but that was no big deal - we knew we'd wind up somewhat colorful.  You almost picked up the cup and spilled it once, but once I corrected you and showed you how to look at your egg, you mostly just fiddled with the spoon and tapped me on the shoulder to show you your egg.

It was when I was taking your egg, and mine, out of the dye that craziness broke loose.  I had taken your egg out but left the cup of dye on your tray, and had my back turned to you arranging the eggs on the drying rack.  Now, see, we dye eggs in plastic drink cups every year, like we use for parties, just each with a different color of dye in them.  It's cheaper and easier than trying to find some sort of special cup intended for egg dying.  Unfortunately, what I didn't take into account was how confusing this might be for a two year old.  When I turned around, there you were with the plastic cup up to your mouth, having a good old drink of what I'm sure you thought was very pretty kool-aid.

I could've just died!  I thought we were in the clear, you were doing so good, and then I turn around and you're drinking the dye!  I couldn't get it away from you fast enough (and once you tasted it I'm pretty sure you realized it was most certainly NOT kool-aid... vinegar is not the tastiest substance on the planet)... and after that, I kept your cup and egg on the table, out of reach, while I showed you how the egg changed colors.  Once your blue mouth was cleaned, we all had a laugh about your antics and how I'd have to tell you about this when you were older.  I knew you'd get the hang of this egg dying thing eventually, and until then, it made for a fun story to tell!

Love you forever,
Katie

Look Back and Laugh

Dear Princess,

The memory I'm going to share with you tonight is not one that was particularly fun or special when it happened, but looking back, it's just a reminder of a silly little mishap, the kind we all have as children, that makes me laugh.

You were only two, I remember because you were still in that old, horrible car seat I bought at a yard sale before I knew better.  It was the middle of winter, shortly after M started coming over and we started spending more time than ever in the car between people's houses and schools.  One day, on the way to either your grandparents' house or my school, I can't remember, I fixed you a yellow sippy cup (one like I used growing up, the simple kind with no 'filter' that aren't really spillproof) full of milk before settling you in your car seat.  I gave it to you while I drove, but at some point along the way you threw it, and I must not have been paying close enough attention, because if I noticed, I forgot by the time we reached our destination.

We went and did what we needed to do, then drove home, sippy cup forgotten and wedged between your car seat and a spare infant seat in the back of my car... upside down.  It was not until the first warm day of the winter season (you know, the unseasonably warm one when you think spring is finally coming, and then it snows again the next day?) that I took the car over to the car wash, pulled all the car seats out and cleaned everything out to vacuum...

That was when I found the drained, upside down yellow sippy cup on the back seat... surrounded by a molding stain on the seat... smelling so bad that I nearly threw up.  I wasn't mad, I just laughed and rolled my eyes, thinking, 'ah, yes, there are certainly children in my life!'  I pulled the cup out gingerly with tissues, then used the upholstery shampooer on the car vacuum for the mold spot... continued cleaning out the car... but the smell lingered.  I kept all the windows open as I drove home.  And of course, like it always does, it got freezing cold again within a couple of days, so the windows in the car had to be left up, the heat turned on... no chance for that spoiled milk smell to dissipate out the windows.  For the first time ever, I actually put an air freshener in the car, but we could still smell it until finally the weather warmed up for good and allowed us to drive around with the windows open.

And from that day forward, I remembered to only give you water in the car!

Love you forever,
Katie

The Wheels on the Bus

Dear Princess,

You've known the song since you were two, before you could even sing the words.  It was your favorite.  You liked it better than Old MacDonald, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Happy and You Know It... everything.  You loved for me to sing it in the car (but if I tried to sing the ABC's, you'd get so mad and cry!), so when you were having a rough day and fussing in the car, I would always start singing Wheels on the Bus.

One day, I remember we needed to go somewhere and you were really feeling terrible.  I was trying to get the trip in quickly without upsetting you too much by singing the whole time... but I soon found that the Wheels on the Bus song just wasn't long enough to last the whole way!  Afraid if I stopped singing or started over you'd get upset, I thought fast and came up with some more things to add to the bus.  First it was dogs and cats, and I thought, that's not too far fetched - some people might take pets on the bus.  But we still weren't there... so I decided to take a leaf out of Old MacDonald's book... and soon there were cows, pigs, ducks, horses and chickens on our bus!  You were so little that you didn't realize how silly it was, you were happy as long as I kept singing, but I remember silently laughing to myself about our crazy bus.  On the way home, we sang again, complete with our whole farm full of animals.

Another day, you and I were both in good moods and we were just being silly, so as we drove along, instead of doing the motions, I made the car do them!  When we got to 'the windows on the bus', I put the car windows up and down.  I turned the wipers on, I honked the horn, I flashed the lights, I jingled the money in the money compartment, and then finally as we were getting close to home, I detoured into an elementary school parking lot so I could stop the car and do the doors going open and shut.  Then as we drove into the driveway, we bounced up and down together singing about the kids on the bus, and you just laughed and laughed - you thought it was so funny that I was really making OUR 'bus' do all those things!

To this day, that song makes me think of you, and I'm always telling people about our silly farm bus, or our fun car-bus, or just how much you loved that song.  Another one of those simple little things that became so much fun just by doing it with you.

Love you forever,

Katie

Hide the Elephant

Dear Princess,

The full story of your Ellfant is elsewhere on this blog - here to be exact, but there's a fun little bit that I just realized I left out that I want to recount for you tonight.  I decided it fit, because as promised all those years ago, I'm hugging your Ellfant tonight and thinking of you... extra hard, in fact, because I'm really missing you tonight.

A day or two after you 'adopted' Ellfant (you were six), I had the day off work, so you had the day off from daycare, and it was pouring down rain.  We usually tried to spend our days off together doing something extra fun, but that day, going anywhere was out of the question.  After a lazy breakfast, we sat down and tried to think up things to do.  You would've been happy to play any one of your million games... Chutes and Ladders... Candy Land... but I was getting oh-so-sick of those games.  I thought back to my own childhood and tried to think of a different game we could play, something I might actually enjoy.  You suggested Hide-and-Seek... but I protested that I was too big to really hide anywhere.  Then I had an idea.

One of the things I used to do growing up was hide one of my many stuffed animals with my mom, and take turns finding it.  So I told you that I had a NEW hide and go seek game that we could play, and that Ellfant (who you were dragging around the house with you) could play too.  You were excited as I explained that it was called "Hide the Elephant", and we would take turns counting while the other person hid the elephant, since he was small and could fit lots of places that neither one of us could.  Then the other person would find him, and it would be her turn.

You were eager to go first, so I let you - but you didn't quite have the hang of it yet.  You 'hid' Ellfant somewhere in plain sight and I found him right away.  When it was my turn, I hid him a little tougher - behind a pillow, with just the tip of his trunk sticking out for you to notice.  After proclaiming that it was impossible for a couple minutes, you found him and laughed with joy, and then caught on immediately.  Soon it was as hard for me to detect your hiding places as it was for you to locate mine!  Soon, we were purposely picking the silliest places to hide the elephant, or hiding him in a funny pose, like standing on his head, then dissolving into giggles when we found him.

Our elephant-hiding locations also got harder and harder until at one point you got frustrated and wanted to give up.  That was when I taught you the second game - the Warmer-Colder game.  As you walked around looking for the little stuffed animal, I'd tell you 'warmer, warm, hot, burning!" the closer you got to him, and "cold... colder, freezing, you're an ice cube!" when you were far away.  This eased your frustration and you thought it was hilarious, and play went on for hours.

"Hide The Elephant" became a favorite game of yours and you wanted to play on all our days off, in our free time, with my mom and M... when you wanted to play, you'd come to me with Ellfant in your arms and say "Katie, can we play Ellfant Hide an' Go Seek?"  It was precious and I could hardly say no... in fact, I have a big cheesy grin on my face right now remembering your sweet little requests.  It was just one more simple little thing that doing with you turned into an extraordinary memory.

Love you forever,

Katie

Kidney Stones

Dear Princess,

I just realized tonight that I hadn't posted in a while - because I've been so preoccupied by what's going on in my life - I just had the first of two surgeries for kidney stones last week and I've really been hurting a lot, it was hard to think about much else, although of course I'm always thinking of you!  Current events have also reminded me of another sweet memory of you though, the one I'm going to share tonight.

You were almost seven - oh so very close - your birthday was just a couple weeks away.  M's birthday party had been the previous night and you had both spent the night at my house.  In the morning, as I drove M home, I started to feel a pain in my side while we were in the car.  I knew what it was right away, because I had had them before.  I was in for a good day or so of painfully passing a kidney stone.

I knew it was going to be impossible to care for your baby brother while this was going on, but I'd promised you a fun day since you'd struggled a bit the previous day with all the attention being on M, and I didn't want to let you down.  So your grandparents took AJ, who was only about six months old, for us.  Then I took some medicine to help me with my pain, laid some blankets and pillows on the couch, pulled out some toys, turned on a movie, and settled the two of us in down in the family room.

First we watched Nemo.  Then we both fell asleep for a little while.  When we woke up I took some more medicine and you came over and sat next to the couch where I laid on my belly so that we could do puzzles and play games together.  We put together all the big wooden puzzles, even the United States one, and played Don't Break The Ice a few times.  Then when I needed to rest again, you sat on a bedsheet and played with play-doh.  My mom brought us dinner and we ate while we watched Noggin and talked.  After dinner, we read a couple books.  You played with some of your toys.  I watched you and smiled.  Your happiness did more for my misery than any pill could have.

Only maybe twice all day did I have to use a stern voice with you at all.  Then I would remind you that Katie didn't feel good and I really needed you to have good choices and use your listening ears.  You would shape right up after that.  When it was your bedtime, I had my mom come and get you to put you to bed - give you a bath and read your stories and everything.  You came back downstairs to hug me after your bath at my request, and then you fussed a little bit because you wanted me to put you to bed.  But when I explained why I couldn't and gave you lots of hugs and kisses to make up for it, and promised that my mom was the best story reader ever, you went off to your room cheerfully.

As I lay on the couch that night after you had gone to sleep, I remember thinking how impressed I was with you that day.  You had understood that I was not feeling well and that I needed your best behavior, and that as long as I had it, we could still have fun.  Because of your cooperation and understanding, a day that could've been a big let down, just lying around, turned into a special day of lying around and just enjoying each other's company.  It's one of the best memories I have.  I appreciated then, as I do now, your sympathy and kindness toward me even though I couldn't do as many fun and exciting things as I'm sure you'd hoped... and your ability to make your own fun.  That's a special quality - especially when you're only six!

Love you forever,

Katie

Puddle Walk

Dear Princess,

I don't have a picture for this one - if I had, it would've been rather soggy.  This memory of you takes place on a rainy day when you were about three.  It was mid-May, shortly after your birthday party, after I'd promised myself that I was going to do everything I could to give you every possible moment of joy.  You, me and M were all at my house.  We'd played every game (Don't Break The Ice was your favorite, except that you seemed to think that the goal was to break the ice!) and you girls were getting antsy, we all wanted to go outside on the warm day, but a steady rain made it seem impossible.

Then I had an idea - something I'd read in a magazine once.  I dressed you girls in old clothes and old shoes.  Then I told you we were going for a walk.  I remember M looking at me like I was crazy, because it was raining.  I told her, "Yup, we're going for a walk in the rain, and we're going to stomp in all the puddles and get really wet and it's going to be really fun."  Then she was excited.  I was a little nervous about how you would handle it at first - there had been a time when you'd cry if a drop of rain touched your head... but our enthusiasm must've been contagious because we were barely down the block before you were laughing and splashing along more than anyone else.

I held your hand and showed you to the deepest puddles (you seemed to just want to hop everywhere!) and we jumped in them together, got each other soaked, and laughed and laughed.  You thought it was so funny when I jumped in puddles and got all wet.  When we crossed the street, we stopped and stood in the running water of the storm drain, letting it wash over our feet through our shoes and giggling.

I didn't tell you two where we were going, but I knew.  After a while, we approached the playground near my house, and you gave a little squeal when you saw it and looked up at me.  I nodded and then told you both "Now we can play at the park, and go down all the wet slides, and swing on the wet swings, and jump in the really big puddles here."  And we did.  First we jumped in all the puddles in the play yard, which were deeper than the ones near our house - our splashes went high enough to get my face wet!  Then we sat on the swings and drug our feet through the water that had pooled underneath them.  Then we started for the slides.  I went first down the big silver slide and zoomed so fast that I landed on my tailbone on the ground!  It hurt a little but I just laughed for your benefit and got up.  So much water had slopped off with me that I knew your ride would be a little slower.  Still, I waited to catch you at the bottom.

When we went to the second side of the playground, you and M sat at the top of the twin orange slides to race down.  They were bumpy slides so I thought you'd go slower than I had on the first slide.  But I underestimated how fast your tiny body could go, and you too landed with a bump at the bottom.  It made you cry, so I scooped you up and gave you a hug and told you it was okay until you were squirming to get down and chase after M again.  After that, I went down all the slides before you.  You still went extra fast on that wet little bottom, but not so fast that you got hurt.

When we were tired and had gone down all the slides and stomped in all the puddles, we started for home.  When we got there, we stripped off our shoes and socks on the porch, and I stripped you down to your diaper (which was sopping) before going inside.  Once inside you were cold and shivering, so I ran you a warm bath and plopped you in it, where you giggled and splashed like a little fish.  We ended the day worn out and more than a little wet, but we couldn't have been happier.

Love you forever,
Katie

Handprints

Dear Princess,

I have two pictures on my computer of us in these shirts, but I posted this one because we were being silly, and silly pictures were always your favorite.  The date on this is wrong... it was actually October, and you were five.  We made these shirts on the front porch that day - yours is covered in your handprints, M's is covered in her handprints, and mine is covered in both of your handprints.  I also had you guys help me make a canvas bag with both of your handprints - and I still have both the bag and the shirt.

We poured the fabric paint out on paper plates and had you put your hands in it, then on the shirts.  It was so hard to get you, in particular, to just go from plate to shirt, then rinse your hand off in the water.  You wanted to touch EVERYTHING!  In fact, there's a little pink spot on the corner of my shirt because you just  couldn't wait to touch it.  But that was okay, because those little imperfections were what made the finished product so perfect.  It was a reminder of how much fun we had being messy and silly and not worrying about the little things.  M actually put a big blue handprint on the front porch, which I thought would wash off in the rain and weather, but here we are four and a half years later, and there's still a little blue 9-year-old M handprint on my front porch!  I smile every time I see it - and I wish you'd slipped up and left a handprint there too.

After they dried (which you were so impatient for) we took all our pictures in them.  I can't count how many of these pictures I actually took... someone was always looking away, being silly, we couldn't get it right.  Finally we got a nice one of all of us smiling, so we cut loose and did a silly one.  Again, your favorite.  You were at this stage where you liked to put your fingers in the air like that when you were posing and stick your tongue out - I have so many pictures of you in this same pose.  Such a funny girl.

I sent your shirt home with you.  I don't have it now, I wish I did.  I don't know what happened to it.  But I still have your little handprints.  I'll always have that handprint covered bag and that shirt, even though I've mended the bag by hand more than once... and they'll always be a memory, a moment caught in time, of the little hands that made them.

Love you forever,
Katie

Snow

Dear Princess,

This is you, four years old, playing outside in the snow with me and M.  It was already dark, my mom wasn't feeling good that day and she was lying down on the couch, so I took you girls outside even though it was dark to give her some peace and quiet and still let you have fun and be kids.  I had just bought those snow pants at Once Upon A Child so we could play in the snow more often that year.  You can't see them, but you also had on Dora boots that I got at Kmart, which you loved, you walked around saying "Dowa-boots" so proudly.  I really wanted to buy the butterfly ones, but you had to have your "Dowa-boots".

Out in the snow, you were so shy at first.  Stood by the bushes looking really uncertain about the whole snow thing.  You had a really fun time brushing the snow off the bushes and laughing as it fell, while M made snowballs to throw at me (I asked her not to throw them at you, you were a sensitive little girl and I thought you might be upset).

When you saw M lay down in the snow to make a snow angel, I think you thought she was crazy at first.  Then I did it too, and we laughed because no matter how hard we try, we ALWAYS step on our snow angels getting up.  You decided you wanted to join in the fun... but what I think you didn't quite remember clearly from the previous winter, was that... well, snow is cold.  The mittens you're wearing belonged to my brother when he was little, I put them on you because they were waterproof.  But I didn't count on that one thing.  You know how when you're wearing a coat and gloves, if you bend your wrist a certain way, there's that little sliver of skin that's exposed?  I tried to put your coat on over your mittens so that wouldn't happen, but when you laid down to make your snow angel, I could see that I failed.

You weren't upset yet, so I helped you make your angel.  You didn't quite understand how to move your arms and legs just right, so I stood over you and helped move them for you until you got the hang of it.  I snapped pictures with difficulty through my own thick gloves.  Then, almost out of nowhere you started to cry.  And I looked down and there was snow wedged in that little spot between mitten and coat.  You wouldn't get up, I had to awkwardly pick you up in that puffy snowsuit to comfort you.  We had been having fun, I didn't want to go in, so I took my own gloves off and tried to re-situate your coat and mitten... and you were happy with that for a while, but then after a few minutes of making snowballs with M (and throwing them at me!  What ever happened to not ganging up on somebody, huh?  <3 ), you were whimpering again with snow in your mitten and I couldn't get it out.

This time, I hoisted you up on my hip and we went inside.  I made a mental note to get you some better mittens.  We took off all our snow gear on the towels in front of the door, like always, and then you and M played (very quietly and peacefully) while I stirred up a pot of hot chocolate.  You always loved marshmellows in yours, so many of them that I had to get the bag out multiple times.  We all sat and warmed up drinking hot chocolate, traumatic snow-in-mitten incident forgotten, and outside in the yard were three unique, even if not perfect, snow angels.

Love you forever,
Katie

A New Thing

Okay, so much for creative titles... but I'm starting a new thing.  Eventually it will migrate to a blog that is currently private and will be made public once I sort some things out, but for now it's here. 

I'm going to continue this blog and my adoption blog as normal.  This one is a bit of a hodgepodge, just life, etc.  I'm going to continue to tell A's and my story here.  But the 'new' (or rather, newly public) blog will ultimately be for A, somewhere down the line when she's a grown-up.  Since things went bad with her biological family last summer, I've been writing her letters to read 'someday' every now and then.  But they're as hard to write as the story itself, especially since I don't know where we'll be in our lives when she gets to read them, I don't know what to say.  So I'm changing the tune a little and making 'Letters To My Princess' public.  Every day (hopefully), I'm going to write a post and share a memory of something we did together over the past few years.  Just little glimpses into our happy moments that I want her to remember.  I feel like these will be easier to write and less emotionally draining because they will allow me to focus on the happy times... and they'll be entertaining for her at any age. 

The reason I'm making it a public blog is because I've found that by and large, people don't understand our situation and our relationship, because this sort of 'almost-not-quite-unofficial-foster-care' thing is not exactly common.  I'm hoping that in sharing the little things that brought us joy you will catch a glimpse into our lives, what made us who we are, and maybe even remind you to spend a little extra time with your little ones today (yes, there must be a FOURTH game of Candy Land)... because what I wouldn't give to be able to go back and spend a little more time with mine.  To live out those days... even the embarassing moments that turned me red in the face... one more time.

As I said, after I figure out how to do it, these will be on a seperate blog.  I'll post a link when that happens.  Until then, they're here.  Starting now:

Dear Princess,

Remember this day?  This is you on your 7th birthday, adopting your baby doll at the 'doll house' that we had to drive nearly an hour to get to.  You quite aptly named her 'Princess'.  You were wearing matching dresses, which you were just over the moon about.  That day, we got up in the morning, got dressed, I let you buckle Princess into your baby brother's car seat since my mom was keeping him for us that day, and we drove to the big doll house.  I had to take you there because it was the only place that both sold the dolls and let kids go through the 'adoption process'. 

When we got there, the lady helped you weigh and measure your baby, asked you her name and your name, and wrote it all down on a 'Birth Certificate'.  She complimented your matching dresses and wished you a happy birthday.  Then she had you sit down on this chair to take pictures of 'Mom' and baby.  We took like four shots, plus me in the background with my cell phone - you just looked so cute.  You were so shy at first.  Looking at the picture, maybe you can't tell, but I know you... and I can see how shy you were feeling in your posture.  That didn't last long though.  After pictures were taken, they brought out the official doll house stroller, which had a sign on it that said "Newly adopted" or something like that, and you put your baby in it and we trekked around the corner to the bakery where you were supposed to get a congratulatory cookie.  When you told the woman at the bakery that it was your birthday, and she saw you and Princess in your matching dresses, just looking too cute to be real, she instead gave you three cookies!  You ate one right then and we saved the other two.  On the way home, you let me have one and you ate the other 'for Princess'. 

We marched back through the windy day to the doll house and they gave you Princess's 'Diaper Bag', which contained some goodies for you and for baby - hair clips, pencils, candies, a sticker that said "It's A Girl!"... and a little cardboard frame with a picture of you and your baby in it.  Then we had to hurry home to set up for your 7th birthday party.  You buckled Princess back into her car seat (you told me that you wanted to hold her but you 'just really wanted her to be safe') and you were asleep (probably a sugar buzz) by the time we got home. 

And who'd have thought you'd complete your first adoption at the ripe old age of seven?  ;)

Love you forever,
Katie