Sunday, February 19, 2012

finally fingerprints!

Does anyone remember those "Suddenly Salad" commericials?

I think "Suddenly Salad" still exists, although I remember making it a few times and thinking it was quite putrid.  Maybe I'd feel differently now, but I thought of this as I finally, finally, finally got my fingerprints done on Friday.  I thought, "Finally! Fingerprints!" and somehow, my brain went to Suddenly Salad, which is just a strange example of how my mind works sometimes.  The whole purpose of the product is to take ingredients and, with little work, create a salad.  I wish they made something like this to get fingerprints done, because if they did, I'd market it as Finally Fingerprints!

The schedules of the State Police aren't terribly conducive to fingerprinting.  The small station near my home encouraged me to call after my fruitless visit on Thursday, and I did...only to hear, "Nope.  Try Monday."  But I felt too stubborn to be denied, especially after Jon had his carefully-printed fingerprint card ready to go. 

Instead, I bundled up my daughter on a warm day and decided to make the trek to the same State Police Barracks where Jon had had success - Lancaster.  Nearly 90 minutes later, I arrived, and prayed for good results.

First, I got there and the woman behind the desk kept asking me why I needed fingerprints.  I explained it was for an adoption.  Then she asked me where my 'paperwork' was.  What paperwork?  Jon hadn't told me, and I never thought to bring my FBI application with me. 

"We can't take your fingerprints without some paperwork," a woman who was obviously pregnant announced to me.  It was 82 degrees in the waiting area according to the thermostat on the wall, and my two year old daughter discovered playing with the water fountain until the refrigeration unit came on was a wonderful trick.  But it was driving me bonkers.

A phone call to my husband ultimately saved the day, and he faxed over the FBI application.  After ten more minutes of waiting, Chelsea and I were called back to the fingerprinting room.  I think this is the first time I've been fingerprinted and the police officer kept saying "Relax your fingers!" I tried to pay attention while keeping one eye on Chelsea, who was working furiously to leave this postage stamp-sized room and take off down the hallway.  "Chelsea, sit down," I asked her in vain.  "Chelsea, be a good listener!" I was begging - what two year old is a "good listener"?  Finally another police officer arrived with two small bears and let her choose one.  This temporarily interested Chelsea, but only before she re-discovered the fluroescent lights on the floor, or that the fingerprint machine printed paper that she delighted in trying to grab.  I felt hot and fried to the core, but I got my fingerprint card and thanked the officers weakly as I headed to my car to make the long drive back toward Philadelphia. Of course, there was a huge accident on the highway ONE EXIT FROM MY HOUSE, which delayed my return by another twenty minutes.  At that point, I think I was ready to throw in the towel for the day.

But when I returned home, and the dog was let out and Chelsea was settled in, I spent several minutes looking over our future son's photos.  I don't do this often because I don't want to get "too attached".  I remind myself that there are a hundred things that could happen between now and then (and probably more like a thousand things!) and I guess I can't ultimately be sure if he will come home with us.  But I looked at the pictures, and at pictures of his horrid orphanage, and rededicated myself to the process of bringing him home.  I know the process is going to be full of times like this one, but the end result will be amazing in ways I can't imagine.

I tried to picture his face beside us at church as we worshipped on Sunday.  I can't, but we spoke again to our Pastor and I look forward to sharing our journey with him and more members of our church.  We also worked on our paperwork.  The financial form is finally done, but with more cross-outs than I would like and I suspect we'll have to do it again.  We printed off copies of our various insurances and emailed off our autobiographies.  Our goal this week is to get our medicals done, including Chelsea, and hope some of our reference people will finish writing their references so we can give them to our social worker the following week. 

Meanwhile, a little boy in Bulgaria has no clue that this week (I PRAY) the Ministry of Justice will meet and put aside his file for us while we are working.  I know it's a formality, but we are hoping this will happen quickly and maybe early in the week!  We are also praying for our tax return to arrive, which is delayed for unknown reasons.  Monday is a holiday of course, so maybe it will be deposited on Tuesday?  Let's hope.

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