Family

I need to take a moment to thank everyone in my family, especially my 

brother Carlo and his family. They made THE MOST fantastic set of blocks for Mariana that all of her cousins contributed to. For those who are unfamiliar with this story, Hilary and I made a set of blocks for each of of my siblings families over the years. If anyone can relate to how much work and love goes into them it's us. When they put that box in front of us I thought it was a toy chest- in and of itself awesome. But when I

 opened it and realized what it was I had all could do not to lose it. As we inspected each block they explained how each of Mariana's 17 cousins painted their own number block for her. How cool is that? What better statement of acceptance into our family than that? I think that when Mariana's birth parents thought about how her life would be better with us they hoped for a moment like this. We did too. Any subconscious worries about how she'll fit into the family were permanently put to rest I hope. So again to all of my si

blings and nieces and nephews, I love you, and thank you.

There are 100 things I want to write about Mariana. I wish there were more hours in the day so I could try to capture all the things I want to share with everyone like: how she's learned to schooch forward on her elbows like a commando going under barbed wire, how she's discovered her wrist and how she can rotate objects back and forth like a window display, how well our house plan is working that we hatched years ago when adoption seemed like a remote possibility, and about how Mariana's new favorite toy is the lid to a baby food jar (coined a "ghetto toy" by our friend Diana). Each one of these things is cause for reflection and more in-depth narration but unfortunately time will not allow it at this point. Will I remember all these details without recording them? Will I remember enough of them? All the little things from the first 2 weeks home... Will I remember what it felt like to put my old journal through the shredder in the midst of a clean-up? As I flipped through it, I saw how it was filled with anger and angst and thoughts of "how will I ever come to accept the thought of adoption"? That thought seems almost comical now that I know Mariana but it was very real then. How my family could come to accept it was even more remote at the time. Ha! Ya nevah know, ya nevah evah know...