Two Years

We have just celebrated two years as a family. A friend, just in the process of adopting, asked recently about our bonding. And I found it a challenging question to answer. Two years ago, an unhappy toddler was placed in my arms. She cried. But not for long. We watched a video of our photos and movies from China last night, and what struck both Steve and me was the amazing trust this little girl had to place in us - strangers she had never seen. I think we appreciated that at the time we first met Cate, but honestly, it is only two years later, when all the stress and overwhelming emotion of the trip has melted away that we can look back and truly ponder what it must have been like for this tiny girl to be left with a family of strangers who could not speak her language, who took her out of her only home and then flew her across the ocean to more strangers.

And yet, here we are. Here is Cate with an almost ever present smile on her face - by far the most cheerful member of the family, the most outgoing, the most confident. Here is Cate. The one that insists we do things "as a family". The one who insists she cried when she met us because she "didn't know us yet." The one who replied when I said, "Today we celebrate the day we became a family, the day we met Cate,".... "and here I am on my journey!!!"

And here we all are on our journey. Alex, the quiet, sulky morning boy. And me, the mother he emulates. Cate, the cheerful, happy, "It's morning!" girl. And Steve... more like Cate than Alex or me... And for now, Cate happily accepts that she came home to live in Fly Creek, that she wants to go to China, now, if she can... that she left a life of friends and fun times and came to a life of family and fun times.

She cheers when her brother gets off the school bus in the afternoon and sticks her tongue out at him 60 seconds later. She waltz into the gym before swimming lessons and announces that she is there.

How did we bond with Cate? I bonded before I ever saw her face. I knew she was out there. I loved her the moment I saw her. I have spent two years getting to know this amazing girl, who has still spent more time in the orphanage than she has spent with me. When we met, I knew nothing - not even what she could eat. Now I understand what will make her laugh. What will make her cry. What will bring her joy. What will cause her to shut down. I know what too much sugar looks like. And I know what, "I don't feel safe" looks like too. I know she is seldom more than a tickle away from a smile. I know she will laugh if given half a chance. I used to feel that I knew Alex so well I could anticipate his moves before he made them. I now know Cate that way too.

And I think she knows we are here. We will feed her when she is hungry. Tell her she can't have a snack when she is not. We will cheer her accomplishments and help her to learn. We will hug when when she is happy and hug her when she is sad. Her brother will say something mean and then build her a giant fort. She will lash out at us and then do something equally sweet.

She is our Cate. We are her family.