The Saga Continues

I went to our mail box late last night.  Lo, and behold, there was an extra large envelope addressed to us from our adoption agency.  Inside was the certificate showing that we are officially licensed to foster/adopt up to four more children (we're told they'll add to that number as soon as we are able to take the "transportation" class that teaches us how to get 8 3-year-olds in and out of a giant white van in a crowded parking lot with no help from my working husband or older children, I suppose).  It's an exciting step!

We were sure that it would take no time at all to get our homestudy updated from "international adoption" to "foster adoption" since we could use the same agency and were still the same family and all.  It actually took longer to update the homestudy than it took to get one in the first place.  We had to take all new classes.  We had to get all new fingerprints (heaven help us if the state of Texas could possibly accept the same fingerprints as the Department of Homeland Security, the Department of State, and the Embassy accepted).  We had to have two more home visits (same home, same social worker, but why should that matter?).  We had to gather stacks more documents.  We started over and then some.  

This is officially our 4th homestudy in 15 years of marriage.  Our plan is to keep this homestudy current FOREVER just in case we ever decide we want to add between 1 and 17 more kids to the clan when we are 73ish years old.

So, here we sit, with our pretty new piece of paper.  Let the calls begin!  

I'm waiting.  

Still waiting.  

My phone doesn't seem to be ringing.  

Hmm.  Sound's on.  

No ringing.  

Just waiting...

That is correct.  We have our shiny piece of paper which brings us to the point in our adoption story where...we wait.  It seems we've been here before.  It seems we have been here all year.  

Oh, but things are different now.  We are waiting for a referral for a little one from an itty bitty country in Africa, AND we are waiting to hear about a special sibling group right here in our own country, AND we are waiting for a middle-of-the-night call about fostering a tiny one for a day or a week or a month or however long while we wait for those other two calls.  We are doing some Extreme Waiting, Moore style.

The phone still may take months to ring.  The waiting still may go on way too long.  That's adoption, for you.  It's never in our own time.  

It does work out perfectly in the end, though.  We've done this before and know that for certain.  A too-long wait and even some major heartbreak can turn into a daughter who you cannot imagine a life without.  

But, ring already, stupid phone!

AND NOW, SOME PICTURES WHILE WE WAIT:

We only THOUGHT minivans were the most un-cool things to drive.  This may someday be a better size for us. Hello, transportation class.  OK, this is exaggeration, a bit, but anyone looking to get rid of a church van, call me!

And this is the wall that Jon built to take a homeschool room full of books and make a bedroom for two.

 And this is where most of the books in that homeschool room now reside:  the garage.

  This is the new bedroom for two.  We haven't gotten around to taking the homeschool maps and such off the walls, yet.  Basia claimed this room right away (after Brishen said he wasn't interested) and has moved on over.

 This is Basia's former room now fit for 3.  We've since added a rug.  The bottom bunk pulls out for sleeping, and there are storage drawers under the steps.  The state has specific requirements for how much space a room must have for each child and also how many drawers each child must have.

   This is Brishen's room, ready for 2.  The room is technically big enough for three, and we could buy a bottom bunk for that bed to replace the drawers and shelves.  We just think beds for 7 is a good enough start, right?