fairy tale

Well, we did it. We found a photo “ball” at Brookstone. The sides include four photos, a speaker, and a control panel. We put in photos of each of us—Shane, me, Shilo,--and one with all three together. Then we recorded messages, including a barking one, for each side. When Youyou presses a photo, he’ll hear a message.

We took the finished ball to our friend, who traveled today to Beijing. I don’t know when he will hire a cab to take him to Youyou’s foster home, nor do I know when our little boy will first hear our voices say, “I love you.” When did I first hear my mother say it?

The story of “How we started our family” continues, and tomorrow I will again press it against the back edge of my consciousness, like a passenger in an elevator, and focus for eight hours on curriculum building at school. It is one more full day that was not on the calendar as inservice, one more day that I thought I’d be able to use for hiring out as a housecleaner or to make the children’s clothing I am hoping to sell to finish paying for Youyou’s passage into our home. Teaching part-time this year was secondarily an experiment—to see if it could be done. With the exception of a few weeks, I’ve worked full-time hours. At first, it was my initiative, but that paled as day after day of work was announced with little warning—a field trip, a curriculum day, weekly instead of monthly department meetings. When I attempt to negotiate, I’m told there is no such thing as part-time (although it still appears to exist when I get my paycheck). So the second job I planned to take this spring (housecleaning for $15/hr.) is moot-my part-time work precludes it.

So after eight years, I will leave the teaching of art to a flock of students for the sake of finding one little lamb, but not in the manner I had imagined. I don’t know yet how we will finance this, I don’t know what I will do to supplant the absence of income from teaching, and I suddenly feel overwhelmed by a lack of employable skills that could provide for our family. In the meantime, our first Caseworker has given us our Homestudy addendum—and we will contact her tomorrow to ask for corrected copies with our son’s actual age, our actual phone number, and the extra copy missing from this envelope she gave us on Friday.

When I was a child, I believed that I could walk into the ocean if I needed to, retrieve what was necessary, and return to land unharmed. I never tested it, because I knew that I would be able to do it when the time came.

Perhaps this is that time.