As the story goes, 6-year-old Charlie found us first. Locked eyes and made a beeline from the steps to his Daddy. He knew we were the ones. He had seen pictures of us.
Check. Found one. Still need another....
With Charlie accounted for, I quickly found 2-year-old Sam playing with a ball and scooped him up so fast he didn't have much time to react. (In hindsight, that probably wasn't the best idea, but my emotions got the best of me.) Charlie ran over and started talking to Sam with much more gusto than is normal for Charlie! While I have no idea what he was chattering about, I tell myself he was filling Sam in on the situation. "It's our Mommy and Daddy! Like the pictures we saw. We get to go home now!"
He drug his new family of four up the stairs by our hands to an office/empty room where other adoptive families were gathered and plopped us down in chairs as if he had been watching and waiting for his turn to do that. He knew the routine. He knew what to do.
It was finally his turn.
That trip to Ethiopia seems like forever ago. But in reality it was only a few short years ago. Sam has been in America longer than he was in Ethiopia. And Charlie is getting close to that milestone.
I'll say it again.
If I really think hard on it...really dwell on it...the way The Lord has grown our family completely and totally blows my mind. I have 3 kids sleeping soundly in my house from various corners of the world.
Unreal.
Adoption is hard. It's amazing. It's tragic. It's a blessing. It's an adventure. It's exhausting. It's borderline crazy. It's time consuming...it's ALL consuming! It's exciting. It's scary. It's a tangible. It's real. It's fun.
It's likely one of the best decisions I've ever made. At least in the top 3.
Happy five years, boys. So glad I get to call you sons.
And so glad you call me "Mommy"...
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