Happy Birthday, Son

Nursery!

Yay. It's finally done. The stupid dresser required 4 coats of paint.
4.
Ugh.
Getting a pic of the complete finished project is difficult, but here's the gist:

And here's his Noah's Arc hanging above the crib, the sheets match it:

Ooo - and this is cool - remember macrame? Well, I have a groovy neighbor who makes these macrame plant hangers. Any sort you can imagine.
I think it adds a touch of hippy to my baby's room.
It's far out.
It's bitchin'.
But, best of all, IT'S DONE.

Pasts

Levi got his first letter from his birth dad yesterday. It was....interesting. He seems to think that he'll be found innocent of all charges against him and walk out of that prison a free man. He said that he, "didn't do this crime". I wanted to say, "Which one? The assault with a deadly weapon? The attempted manslaughter? The theft? To which are you referring?" He wanted me to understand that that he always tried to be a good father for his son and did everything for him. He apparently doesn't know that we know as much as we do about the sitch. That we've done our homework. That I'm a terribly curious person, downright nosy about my sons' pasts. Like I've said, these letters will go into a box for Levi to read when he's a well established adult, sure of his identity. When he understands that his parents created a child but it's up to him to create a man. That his identity doesn't lay in his blood, but Jesus's. My #3 son will turn 3 on Sunday. It's been over a year since my son came home. Gosh, I love that kid!

"Don't call us that."

It's funny. The white cat was named by Micah. He declared him "One of One" because he was the only one in his litter. Later we got the tabby and named him "Furgus". Somewhere along the way "One of One" became "One-ee-Bologna" and now answers simply to "Bologna". Similarly, somewhere along the way "Furgus" became "Gussy-Pants" and now is doomed to a life of being called, "Pants". Lately (I think I may have started this one but forget exactly how it evolved) the boys have been calling Alexxander, "Sausage".

A Pomeranian named Sausage. And his kitty-brothers, Bologna and Pants.

No wonder the cats are less than thrilled.

Oh, and please don't tell Micah that they were on the counter. I did shoo them off. After the picture. Even scolded them a bit, "Who are these baaaad boys on Mommy's counter? Who's a bad booooy? Yes! My boys are bad boys! Yes day are!"

Nurface Becomes Nursery

Here's the boys helping me sand my Great-Grandmother's old dresser so we can paint it. Just a few days ago the HUGE desk that inhabited half of Zephan's room made it's big move to the garage. Up until now the room has been half nursery and half office: we affectionately called it "the Nurface".

Now the big ol' desk is in the garage and the dresser is moved in. We still have a bit more work to do (notice the mail slots are still on the wall) but the move is more conducive for 4 small ones sharing 2 rooms. They have more space, although my poor hubby has now completely lost his office.

It was inevitable, I suppose...

Levi is still bunking with Solomon and Malachi, however. He's not about to relinquish his big boy status, thankyouverymuch. The nursery is for babies. Although, he will visit Zephan's room periodically to play and pillage.

In other, adoption-related news, Zephan had a visit with his birth mom today. The first one in 10 weeks. The agency couldn't find her for a time, but did finally track her down. I guess she gets supervised visits, "until placement is designated". Which is basically some paperwork to send here and there for signatures and nods of the head from the mucky-mucks.

The caseworker picked him up, kicking and screaming and brought him back 2 hours later, puffy-eyed and snotty with a garbage bag of belated Christmas gifts. There was a card that said, "Merry Christmas. I sure miss you, but I know you're happy...and that's all that matters." She signed both her first name and "mom". Made me sad for her.

Zephan's been clingy and dazed all evening. I hate it. I'm glad that Micah's home to tote him around while I fix dinner and do dishes.

I'm looking forward to the end of these - why are they prolonging these visits? It's hard on all parties.

We also sent off the PO Box address so that Levi's birth dad can write him twice a year as stipulated in our adoption mediation. Those letters should be interesting. They'll probably just go into a shoebox until he's....let's see......retired? Yeah. By the time he's eligible for social security we should feel OK about giving them to him. And it's nice that our mediator wrote that we can ditch the letters and shut down the box if we deem, for any reason, that they aren't in Levi's best interest. And we don't have to send pics. Which is good as we found birth dad's myspace page. It's written for him to spread the news of this poor innocent man's unjust incarceration. It also has pics of Levi and him and Levi as a baby and says his birth name. I will not have new pictures of my son on that stupid page. Makes me mad.

"And this is the last picture taken of my little boy before they came and took him..."

Cry me a river.

Didn't want to mention any reasons they would take your child into protective custody, huh? Because they probably just came to your doorstep and demanded that you hand over your beloved firstborn with absolutely no reason.

OK. Calming down, now. Taking breaths. Levi's just fine now. Running around in his Superman jammies with his little 'fro bouncing on top of his adorable little head.

Still makes me mad, though.

I'll keep you "posted"....

The other song my boys love (that I'm also sick of)

The new song my boys all love (and I'm so sick of):

Blizzard '08

...or, as close as we've ever gotten here in the beautiful Willamette Valley. Here's some pics of our recent snow days:

and the same spot, later on:


WOW! 12 inches! It's the most snow our city has seen in 35 years!

And how we spent the time in between warm baths, hot cups of Peppermint tea and snowball fights:

Solly sleeping with his leg warmers!