Finished!

I finally completed my taxes today.

You think I would have done them earlier, because we still had the carryover from last year, for the adoption credit. But, I put them off and the clock was ticking.

The adoption tax credit is so nice! It really does help.

When people don't think they can afford adoption, they really need to remember such benefits exsist; and if you adopt more then one child you get it for each one.

For my children, I received a county one time special needs qualifying expenses, from the state of Ohio. Each one got $2000.00 after the adoption was completed.

The state tax adoption credit is $500.00

The Federal tax adoption credit is $11,390.00. (Although this was not the amount in 2000, when we adopted V, then it was only $5000.00)

So for Oksana's adoption we received $13,890.00 in expenses reimbursement. Not too shabby.

The costs to adopt any of my children: priceless!

gross out number two

Gross out number two
Not only did the kids touch the cow bones (see previous post), but dear husband called and told me that Nik had two TICKS!
I was like WHAT?
He said two ticks were on N one in his hair and one attached to his, yikes, LEG! Gross out!!!
That is what spring at a farm gets ya bones and ticks. YUCK!

Sunny spring days

Soccer season began on Saturday. This year Oksana and Nikolai are playing.

It was very cold and overcast (good ole Ohio weather), but Oksana already seems a natural. Yes it was mass chaos. There were about 150 kids and two instructors and way too many parents. Luckily, it will calm down next practice, so they say (or I hope so) and the kids will be in little teams.

By Sunday the weather had improved drastically.

Sunday Larry and Vitaly rode their bikes 18 miles, and V even got a sunburn.

Oksana opted for the two mile ride with mommy walking Stormy and Skye.

Monday the kids and a friend went to my dad's farm to see his baby chicks. The kids had never held one and it was a wonderful experience.

Then they went for a hike

And discovered....only something that you could find at a farm...

A dead cow carcass and bones.. GROSS!

Needless to say there was five minutes of handwashing prior to dinner.

Gotcha

Today is a very special day.
I know why it is special, but my daughter is too small to understand the significance.
Today is what is known in the adoption circle, as "Gotcha Day"

Gotcha.
You are mine!
You are the daughter I had dreamt about.
You filled a void I never knew I had until, I met you.
You made my world change in a beautiful way.
You opened my eyes to the beauty in a world, that only little girls can see.
You opened my eyes to baby dolls, Elmo, hair bows and the color pink.
You were my daughter not be birth but by God's intervention.
I was led to you because I opened my heart to the children, that others may have found flawed.
I found you flawless.
I have found that a little girl can change the views of those around her.
I have found that a little girl can be a mommy's best friend.
I have found that you adore me, no matter what flaws I have.
I found you!
Forever you will be my daughter
Because on this date, the country of Ukraine gave me you.
I am forever grateful.
I love you Oksana Elizabeth!

Mommy

Two Peas in a Pod

Where you find one you will find the other. They are like two peas in a pod.
They are the best of friends. A big brother and his little sister, one is three and the other is seven.

Nik and Oksana love to be around each other. Oksana always searches Nik out in the morning. They say “Hello” to each other. They like to laugh together. They love to talk and play together. They like to hold each other’s hand.

It wasn’t always that way. When Oksana first met Nik, she had instant sibling rivalry.
We had arrived off the plane and the boys were waiting for us. I ran to them and hugged them while I cried. Oksana cried too but not because of the same reason. She was mad. How dare this little kid touch me! She ran and pushed him away from me. She held her arms straight out and glared. She had this look that was daring him to cross her path to HER mommy! Touch her mommy again and you will get it! Nik still talks about it. Even Oksana thinks it is funny now.

Two peas in a pod and the best of friends!

Butterflies and Mermaids

This morning the conversation in the van went something like this:

Oksana: "Peep Peep" "Mommy guess what I am?"

Me: "A chicken?"

Nikolai: "A bird?

Oksana: "Nope" "Nope"

Begins to flap her arms. "I am pink"

Me: (thinking to self: no idea, but pink of could be so many animals-lol)

Nikolai: "A plane?"

Oksana: "Nope I am a butterfly and pink!"

Nikolai: "Oh" pausing in deep concern, "I thought you wanted to be a Mermaid?"

Oksana: "My mommy is a Mermaid"

Nikolai: "Oh"

Me: thinking to myself- The conversations between a three and seven year old can be so very interesting, even when about absolutely nothing!

Welcome to Holland

Having a child with a disability that others cannot see is never easy. When a child looks perfectly normal on the outside, people get the wrong impressions. They just don't get it, when things don't look like they should be off from the norm.

Everyday occurrences can become huge ordeals. The grocery store can be so over stimulating, that it becomes a nightmare. Your child becomes so uncontrollable, you feel like sitting down and sobbing, laughing or just giving up. Then you get the dirty looks from other parents with the perfectly behaving child. Parents that do not see the broken down, crazy wirings in the brain of a child, with hidden special needs.

I once had a bus driver ask why my child was on the special needs bus. The driver mentioned my child doesn't "look" handicapped. I told him some handicaps aren't as noticeable on the outside. Yes the child is a physical powerhouse, but the same child would be happy to go in a stranger's big truck because it is cool and doesn't understand what is safe.

Having a child with any disability is a lot like this poem: (an oldie but really hits home)

Welcome to Holland- written by Emily Perl Kingsley

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability -- to try to help people who have not shared the unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this. . .

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip -- to Italy. You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. Michelangelo's "David." The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands.
The flight attendant comes and says, "Welcome to Holland." "Holland!" you say. "What do you mean, Holland? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy." But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland, and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place. So you must go out and buy new guidebooks. You must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met. It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around, and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills, Holland has tulips, Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life you will say, "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned." And the pain of that will never, ever, ever go away, because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss. But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.-