I am fully prepared for Alicia to get pregnant with twins as soon as we complete the process. Then I will run screaming in to the night, probably naked, and you'll never hear from me again, except when a blog pops up on the internet called "I Like to Fish...2" and it's run by a lightly bearded man that looks similar to me only with more of a "has lived in a lean-to and maybe ate a couple of mushrooms" look. Then everyone will be like, "Travis?" And I'll say, "No, my name is Koprizacha, and I live in a lean-to." Then you'll explain to me how I've already posted this blog on my other blog and gave away the details of the plan I'm currently trying to carry out.
You can see that thinking about kids has already tweaked with my mind a bit. And by "tweaked" I mean "has run through my brain much the way a blind jouster would." I'm already considering the messes, the yelling, the complete and total wildness that only children can bring into your life.
We are 3 classes into our 5 class series on what to expect when adopting children. Suffice it to say, it has not been easy. We have been forced to watch videos that make it very hard for me not to cry. I hate trying not to cry. It pisses me off. Another thing that pisses me off is being forced to think about what might have happened to our children before they came to us. Sure, it's going to be wonderful when we are all united as a family, but what about their family before? What happened? Why did they have to go through that? Why can't people be better parents? Why? Why WHY?
Our first home study is Thursday. We will welcome a woman into our home, and she will tell us what we need to do to prepare it for children. Then she will scour our lives to make sure that we're not a couple of sadistic weirdos with a penchant for child crimes. Because apparently, those kinds of people exist, y'all. She will then pass judgement on us, receive the reference forms from our friends, and schedule another home study. I assume in that one she will look to see how we've made adjustments to our home to make it more kid friendly, and she will probably tell us what dirt she's dug up on us, such as this blog.
(Hey there, case worker lady! If you're reading this, I just want to tell you how great your hair looks! Oh geez, please don't be bald.)
After we complete the classes and pass the home studies, we will be officially ready to begin looking at kids. We will sift through them as though we are picking a playground kickball team, and I think that is what bothers me the most. "Well, little Tommy has a weird hand, so no." We have the rare opportunity to pick our children, and to me that seems like an enormous responsibility. It also seems...wrong.
"Why did you pick me, daddy?"
Normally I would follow that with some kind of joke. I can't do that. Because there will be an answer. It will have been the hair, the smile, the athleticism, the way they laughed, the way they hugged, the way they expressed a desire to be loved by us, the freckles, the dimples, the ears, the teeth, the way they carry themselves, their confidence, their self-esteem, their mental condition, the way they talk, their eating habits, their background. There will be a reason. I can only hope that the reason will be the right one.
So there you have it. The process so far. We have been wrung through an emotional wringer, we have had our intelligence insulted, we have been looked down upon by parents who haven't had to adopt. We have seen videos of kids who have been abused, molested, mistreated, and abandoned. I have learned that my relationship with my brothers is one of the most powerful things ever. We have listened to your stories, taken your advice, and been told, "Just wait." We have been shown nothing but love by a new Sunday School class. We have made new friends, we have lost friends. I have pretty much neglected each of you and your blogs. I am sorry for that. Real life, ya know?
The pages turned slowly at first, but now it seems as if a speed reader has taken over the story of my life, and soon Part II of the book will start. A new beginning. All of the labels I have; husband, son, friend, writer, comic, fisherman, etc...will be rearranged so that something new can be added to that list.