Blizzard

This beautiful Husky came to our front gate two weeks ago and stuck his nose through the fence to say hello to our other Husky, "Wiley", who also appeared on our front door (two years ago), who we kept and who appears throughout this blog.

Here's the strange thing about this story, besides the fact that we have random, homeless, collarless, starving, Huskies come to us in the night, each time a Husky has appeared we have been close to either having a child or adopting a child. Our eldest Husky, Newman, died a year and a half ago, he was 15 and I really believed and so did all my friends, that when he passed we would immediately get pregnant. Well, that didn't happen, but Wiley appeared on our front door and now this guy. We've named him "Blizzard" and he's turned out to be a majestic and magical salve to a failed adoption and another holiday without kids in our home. He's hilarious and loves Wiley and we want to keep him so badly but we can't. I really believe our heart is open and so is our home for this child, which is why all these other "babies" are showing up.

My plan is to drive him eight hours in a car tomorrow to my friend, Cal's house. She's planning on adopting him and making him her own. She lives in the country and has a 1/2 acre fenced yard. I will miss him, but am thrilled that he will live in her love.

I don't have a reasonable or logical explanation for what this phenomenon is....why these dogs appear when they do and why they happen to be Huskies, but I do know that it feels like magic, it feels like hope, it feels like love.

Note to Self: Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.

Cost Benefit Analysis = nada!

When was the last time you went on a roller coaster ride? I've always loved them. The scarier the better. When I was a kid and would ride the Shock Wave at six flags in Texas I would hold my hands in the air as the cars did loopty loops and sent me screaming upside down being held in the seat by the cyntrifical force.

Most recently, Jason and I went on our own adoption roller coaster ride and we held our hands in the air, asking the Universe to give us a child. We were in line to adopt a baby boy whose birth name is Nicholas. It happened so fast. On Tuesday we got the call, we wrote a letter to the birth mom, We saw his picture, we fell in love with him, we worked through all our fears and doubts about "one day not having a diaper in the house to the next day having a baby in our arms." We came up with some great names for a boy, we fantasized about having a baby here for Christmas, which would be so awesome, and we got ready. We spent six days working through it all, Spiritually and emotionally. And we had our army of friends who are mothers on call to bring over everything we would need if we got to bring home a baby. Diapers, formula, blankets, car seat and a bassonett, apparently you don't need much at first. Loving arms, food and diapers, which if anyone really figured that out, baby showers would become obsolete.

The birth mother, is a single mom, and got pregnant with an egg donor and sperm donor. She gave birth to fraternal twins and is unable to keep them both so she is giving up the boy. Her big thing was to make sure the kids have a relationship down the line when and if they are ready to know their sibling. We agreed. We made a photo book of our lives together (working at an African orphanage, swimming with dolphins, kayaking skiing, abundance of friends and beautiful families, jason's MBA graduation, my book party, and pictures with us and all the children in our lives) brought her flowers, and showed up with open arms and an open heart.

Turns out, she is about as different from Jason and me as apples are to oranges. She is an auditor and said the words, "I did a cost benefit analysis" to determine whether or not to give up the boy for adoption and needed to go home and do a spread sheet to determine who the parents would be. Our lives seem "too fast" for her so she went with the person she could recognize...the CPA who is a stay at home mom. We travel, and have very full lives with friends and families. Why anyone would see that as "too fast" is beyond me, but all of this is. It's out in the yonder, where miracles happen, and children are born and the right families are chosen to be parents to the children they are meant to raise. I will always have a picture of Nicholas in my mind, and wonder years from now, how he is doing. My hope and wish for him is that he gets to see the world and by doing so, he learns that we are all different for sure, but we are certainly all one. I send a prayer up to him and to the birth mom, and hope that the transition is a beautiful and peaceful one.

This Thanksgiving, I am grateful for the love and support of our friends and family and for getting closer to having a baby than ever before. It's real. It's happening. Just not on our timetable. STILL. And I'm grateful for the roller coaster ride and that Jason is willing to hold up his hands with me even when it is really really scary!

Note to Self: Love is not a spread sheet. Love is God.

The Peepers

The day after I turned in my book, Jason and I went on a cleanse, called the Master Cleanse. God help me. Both of us went ten days without food, not a morsel of food. Only maple syrup lemon water and herbal tea. It was by far the hardest thing I've ever done. Going through ten days of not eating in spite of what's going on in my life was challenging, impossible, but it happened. And I truly feel like I could do anything after finishing it. Three days after that huge accomplishment, we boarded a plane for NYC to meet my folks, Buck and Sue 80 and 83 years old and my sister, Allyson and her husband, Bob to show them Manhattan and then on to Vermont where we hooked up with my in-laws, Beverly and Neal. I will never look at Maple Syrup again after ten days of drinking tablespoons of the sweet dark liquid. Vermont is amazing and the colors of the trees have been nothing short of stupendous. I have more family stories to share, but that will have to wait either for my memoir or if I'm so compelled this blog. They are doozies.
Fall is spectacular. I h0pe you get to see it. If you do you too can call yourself a Peeper.

I'm back.

Sorry I've been out of it lately, but thinking about you just the same. I am at the very tail end of finishing the book. The title is : "Live and Let Love" and it's 28 women on the layers, the laughter and the litter of love. While all the heavy lifting is over, I still have some loose ends that need to be tied up. I plan to tie them over the weekend. Hopefully into beautiful satin purple bows. I'm very excited about this new collection. The women are brave, hilarious and inspirational. There are New York Times best selling authors, screenwriters, activists and actresses and music teachers. Can't wait for you to read it.

I don't know what to make of it. This feeling of finishing. It's a mixture of elation and sadness. This process has been so fun at times and I'm not gonna lie, pure hell at others. No different than my first book. It's just like birth. From what I hear you forget how horrible it is and keep doing it. Only I'm birthing books, not babies. Not yet at least.

Speaking of projects that mean something, Jason and I are still moving our two balls down the court. Egg donor and Adoption. I have so much to tell you on the subject of both. I've learned so much about what's out there and how to go about this. And still there are people all around me who are getting pregnant. From my youngest nephew's wife to a friend of mine who tried for her second child for some time, to just about everyone, it seems, but me. It's hard not to cry and be depressed. Very hard. But I try to find joy in the smallest of things. Growing my own tomatoes, Running with my Dogs. Hugging my husband. And going to the movies without paying for a babysitter. And publishing a book which doesn't fall under the list of small things, by any stretch, but certainly an accomplishment. One day we will be parents and that day couldn't come soon enough.

I'm glad to be back.

Note to self: Laugh when you cry. It makes a really funny noise.

Small steps in a slippery world.

Hi. Lots has been going on over here since I last wrote. I hope you (those who happen to read this) are all well and know that I think about you often.

I am certain everyone of us is watching the news. The oily sick birds, those weird bright orange floatie things in the ocean that are supposed to stop the oil assault given to us courtesy of BP, the High Def oil flow picture that is spilling gazillions of gallons into the water a day. I for one, a self admitted news junkie, can barely watch the news anymore. I have to admit, my focus has been on what's happening to the ocean, the livelihoods of those who live in the gulf, the animals who are either suffocating or burning from the inside from the oil that's coating them on the outside....but today I got the wake up call. Eleven men died. I knew that, I've thought about them, I watched 60 minutes. But, today the father of one of the men who appeared on the news crying for the loss of his son brought it home for me like no other. They were sons, brothers, fathers and friends
The world seems upside down, inside out, and everyone who is supposed to make us feel better all seem slippery. Where do we go from here?

I cry. For lots of reasons. Today I cry for those lost men.
I am so sorry for the families' loss and I hope they find peace. I hope they know this country grieves with them and that they are in our thoughts and prayers.

Just a little step: This coming Sunday the Social Services person with the Adoption agency we are working with comes to our home for our final House visit before they give us the go ahead that we will be put on a list for a baby...to adopt. Small steps are happening and we are getting closer.

Note to Self: Very small steps sometimes feel really good!

Uncle Kenneth Lively 1925-2009

My Dear Uncle Ken passed away a few months ago. He was a faithful husband, a father, a loving brother to my wonderful mother, a grandfather, a friend to many, hilarious beyond words and one of the smartest people I've ever known. He was also a World War II gunner...his memory was a steel trap and his life as a journalist was his tool to eloquently recall every detail of his life in Europe sixty years ago.

His wife, Jan and daughter, Phyllis organized a tree planting ceremony in his honor last month on a bright, chilly spring day in Austin. As we listened to the young man in charge of such things on the campus, talk about the Live Oak that was about to be put into the ground, my father stood up to tell the crowd of about fifty people, a story. As life and luck would have it, the hill where the tree was planted was the exact hill that my Dad used to play as a kid. His grandfather's house was on this grand hill under the shadow of Memorial Stadium, home of the Texas Longhorns, and where the LBJ library now stands. It was a big beautiful colonial with bluebonnets in the front yard. The hill where my Uncle's ashes now rest, and a new tree was planted to join its hundred year old ancestors, was the same hill my father ran on, rolled down and loved as a young boy. Sometimes life is just too much! My friends and I call moments like these Quarks. Those moments when coincidence isn't an explanation, and luck isn't an answer and life just happens in a beautiful series of moments that make you gasp.

I regret that I didn't spend more time with my Uncle. That I didn't know him better. But, I am grateful that in the last few years of his life we found a common bond. He was a great writer, and I learned a lot from him, even if he didn't know it. He supported me in huge ways. He came to my book party in Dallas last March when he didn't feel well, when the brain tumor that would ultimately take his life was growing silently. He walked to the Barnes and Noble near his home to buy copies of my book the day it came out. He would say to me, "kid, so many people want to be published, and you did it. You got published."

We bonded over Obama, chocolate cake and God.

He was a treasure. He will be very missed.

Note to Self: Don't let a lifetime go by before you realize the hidden treasures of family.

Cory Booker is Awesome!

I am in Newark, New Jersey....working on a Mayor Booker commercial. He's the real deal. Nothing about him is false. He helps the people in ways we only dream of...he shovels snow for people stuck in their driveways. He helps guys coming out of prison get jobs. He keeps his streets safe. He is a true inspiration. If you don't know about him...please check out his website.

http://www.corybooker.com/ We captured real Newarkers talking about why they believe in Newark. I got a sunburn in NEW JERSEY and one of my best friends, Leelee Groome, her brother Harry and his best friend Walter kicked some butt. I believe in people who want to help other people grow and be better.

I believe in Newark because I believe In Cory Booker.

Note to Self: Believe in something...your spirit will soar!