I’m not necessarily talking about dreams, hopes and aspirations; I mean daydreams. Most moments of my days have an underlying tone to them. A sense that I should be somewhere else, doing something else, communicating with someone else, etc. Sometimes these daydreams are more or less nudges from the Holy Spirit to remind me of other tasks at hand; when I’m miss-managing my time. Sometimes it’s selfishness, wishing that the task or conversation before me belonged to someone else.

Then there are times when I can’t imagine being anywhere else. When the tasks on my to-do list, the friends I’m eager to talk to, the random conversations that I have with myself fade away and I’m left with merely the moment.

Last week, I encountered such a moment. While in NY for a last-minute trip, I found myself tying the bow of a little girl’s dress. Just then, I caught myself searching my inner-being for someplace I’d rather be. And like catching a thief who walked away with nothing, I came up dry. Out of all the friends, locations, craft projects, comfy beds that I could dream up, I wanted to be nowhere else then right where I was. Tying that bow.

Time almost stood still for us: little “Brianne” eagerly waiting for my craftsmanship to put the finishing touches on her outfit, my fidgeting to make sure the bow was just right, the excitement that contagiously ran through her.

After years of hell, this wee girl was plucked out of the most horrid of circumstances and placed in the home of a dear family. That was two and a half years ago. Two and a half years of excitement, trials, pink dollbabies, prayer, frustrations, and joys all culminated into this very day: Adoption Day.

Honored, blessed and grateful to be a part of such a big day in this little life, I sat there tying a bow almost in tears.

I want to share photos and such from the day, but my dear, dear surrogate family hasn’t seen them yet. I’ll save them for a future post; for now, let’s enjoy the moment together.

My family is fostering a sibling group of 7 (read: seven) puppies. Their mama isn’t feeding them, so we are. Every four hours. These pit bull puppies may look adorable, but please be thankful the internet doesn’t communicate smell. They’re newborns. And you can’t diaper them.

Bottle feeding puppies is hard. So my task during all of this is to convince the family’s 3-legged pit bull to lactate.

And this may or may not be an appropriate time to tell you I killed a squirrel yesterday. With my car. While traveling 55 miles per hour.

I’ve seen birth, I’ve babysat some pretty stellar kids and I’ve had shared the disappointment that comes with disciplining them. That’s it though. Mere snapshots in the life of my friends’ children.

Tonight, however, I know grief. Grief over a child who blatantly tells you one thing when you know it to be another. Only moments have passed since the incident but I am still in disbelief. I can’t believe she lied to me.

My eleven-year-old little sister blatantly told me something upon a questioning that didn’t quite fit the evidence before her. I let her go, but as I mulled it over I called her in again. Tears welled up in her eyes as she finally confessed that she had lied to me because she didn’t want to get in trouble. Tears welled up in my eyes as this new broken heart appeared before me.

My dear, sweet, sweet little sister. When have you ever seriously gotten in trouble in this house? With me?

I sent her to read on her bed while I prayed for wisdom. How do I handle this? What will reach her heart?

Dear mothers, I still don’t claim to know much about motherhood but I have caught a new glimpse into it. How you can daily look at your children — in full knowledge that your every action and all your words count for something — and not collapse under the weight of the task that is mothering is beyond me. You continue to astound me.

This is the closest I’ve ever felt to being a mother. Grief. Today I’ve learned there is no joy, no satisfaction, no appeasement in catching your child in a lie.

She had originally approached me for store-maneuvering advice; I gave her what my three-week old perspective could give in such a situation. Then she told me to keep quiet.

A whole week, she made me wait.

Then the others knew so suddenly that there was no time for me to even relish in my prior knowledge. That’s how these things go, though. Engagements are so full of perspective and love that each individual story holds significant value. There’s her story. Then his. Then her father’s. And her mother’s. His parents’. Her grandparents’. Her little sister’s. Then there’s mine. Her twin. The girl quietly keeping significant news under wraps for a week.

A whole week.

I haven’t blogged about this here yet, because I’ve been so busy with it: I have a new “part time” job at a fine Jewelry store here in Delaware. They hired me for my personality and graphic design skills, not because I’m oozing with gem-knowledge. What color is a citrine? It’s been a month now and I still don’t know without looking at all of them together.

The twin and her beau came into the store to get some advice on a diamond ring and a few short days later they came in to look at some loose diamonds. Surprisingly finding something they liked that evening, they picked a setting and scheduled to have the diamond set and the ring made. The Twin, after telling me to keep quiet about it all, bowed out of the equation; The Beau was to take over and prepare a proposal.

I was fortunate enough to be in the store when the diamond was being set. And with the hesitancy of a new employee pushing her boundaries, I asked if I could take a photo of the work being done. I’m so glad I documented this; The Twin will cherish these photos for a long time.

Here’s The Beau, waiting patiently for his engagement-instrument to be cleaned and polished.

The ring:

Before The Beau came into the store, I was so excited I needed to know what time he was coming by. The following is our text-conversation:
Me: What time are you coming by the store?
TB: I called and your boss said come by in 2hrs.
Me: So…3:30ish? I’m too excited to wait patiently.
TB: Maybe like 3:15. Me too.

The Beau told me he was to propose that evening. I guess The Twin was expecting him to wait a week or so; he wanted to catch her off guard. He would pop the question that evening after she came home from work.

Which I thought was going to be around six but in all actuality, she wasn’t scheduled to arrive home until eight. When I got home from work I thought they were already an official to-be-wed couple, but my dad, who had discussed this with The Beau earlier in the day, informed me that I would have to wait a wee bit longer.

I had been anticipating this for a week now; my parents had only known for a few short hours. Sufficient to say, I was starting to get antsy. Freaking out, is really more like it. So I decided to continue documenting it all. Here we are waiting “patiently”:

Then the phone rang. We all rushed to it to see who it was. Then walked away in defeat. Yep. I took a photo of that too. That’s how excited I was.

In a bout of miss-communication, we finally called them and congratulated the newly engaged couple and made plans to go out to dinner. At 8:30pm. I decided to forget the two slices of pizza in my stomach, the packing and gift-making that needed to be done that evening and go with them. Your twin sister only gets engaged once.

Here we are in the car.

I told you I was antsy, right? Yeah. I just snapped photos all night long. Hellos. Dinner. Proof of dinner. The ring. The chamange. I got it all and therefore will bore you with it. Why? Because I’m still stinkin’ excited for them.

Congratulations to The Twin and her Beau. It was a privilege to hold this in for a week.

A whole week.

To inaugurate my 27th year of life I:
1) Heard the Happy Birthday Song 4 times
2) Went to church
3) Wore a dress
4) Played the Wii version of BopIt and failed. Miserably
5) Got some pretty stellar earrings from my twin
6) Was emailed a “special birthday coupon” from EMS
7) Won a Mac-battle with my brother (don’t ask; just know that I’m a genius.)
8) Remembered my last birthday
9) Worked on a friend’s Christmas present
10) Deliberated on how to spend my iTunes gift card
11) Got a haircut
12) Found a gray hair during said haircut
13) Listened to a ridiculously dumb song long enough to have it ingrained. in. my. brain. for.ev.er.
14) Pondered for far too long over this list
15) Drove to Philly in my sister’s Bimmer
16) Saw dead people
17) Saw a the insides of a dead camel
18) Wore heels with jeans
19) Tried to remember the last time I wore heels with jeans
20) Ate dinner with the family
21) Had fondu for birthday dessert
22) Played some games
23) Won some tickets
24) Bought silly things with said tickets
25) Actually contemplated using the “special birthday coupon” from EMS
26) Received a million and five Facebook notifications

The coolest thing I’ve ever done:

Meet Tuscany Grace W. I watched/assisted her entry into the world this morning. She was 10 pounds 8 ounces, 22 inches long, born at 9:48 ante meridiem.

I’ll probably document some of the story here at some point in time, but for now, I’ve got other duties.

I’ve got a doctorate to pursue.

Will I ever learn that travel does not equal rest?

In a great epiphany, I realized that it was my best friend’s birthday and for the first time in three years, I had the chance to celebrate with her in person. So I made plans to hang out in Philly for the weekend, following the Birthday Girl around. I would bring a book and my camera, because there was sure to be plenty of down-time on my end. I even borrowed a book.

Alas, the soverienty of God rules all. His plans for those three days were different and I, over time, have learned to be flexible when time such as those arise.

So, the majority of my rest-intended weekend was spent in Delaware with my family. Doing stuff.

I did get to spend one evening with the honored 26 year-old. And we had a terribly good time.

And I came home terribly tired.

So what did Dela wear? Sweatpants. It’s the only way to comfortably drive through New Jersey.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming in a few days.

It says, “Hi Tina! I’m having a great time and finally figured out how to set the pictures from the email onto the computer picture prog. here in Holland for Tetty…” and then I can’t make out the rest of her writing. The part that gets me is her salutation.

Tina!

She called me Tina! No one has ever called me Tina before, especially my grandmother. She was there when my parents named me and were emphatically against calling me anything other than my whole name, especially when it came to Tina.

Tina…

Daddy: yer mean mom never sent the gps. I’ll do it tomoro
xtina: thanks. I’ll need it next weekend*
D: sorry…you want me send the mama day thing** back
x: Nope, she still gets it
D: whatever
D: I think yer trying to suck up to her…what are you fishing for?
x: Love and acceptance. And more blog comments.
D: Love and acceptance are free…
x: So are mothers day presents.
D: You have run circles around me logically
x: Thats what u sent me to school 4 right?
D: no……so you can support me in my dotage
x: Well u shouldnt have sent me 2 temple then. All they taught me was to talk in circles.
D: So go back and learn some other useless crap
x: If u pay 4 it.
D: Nope…run a fundraiser…maybe joe corbi pizza
x: Cheezy bread!
D: you gotta sell a butt-load of cheezy bread to pay  for more school…you better get started

*I don’t need it for directions; my dash won’t tell me the proper speed. I’m trying to exhaust all my options before buying a  new dash.

**Referring to the Mother’s Day present I just sent in the mail.

Those of you who know me personally will see where I get my sense of humor from.