The tale of the lost birth certificate

In the mean time, I'm also working part time for the adoption agency.  I didn't realize until this week, when I posted somethings about an adoption finalization I'm working on that people didn't know I was working for an adoption agency.  Funny stuff.  I apologize to anyone who that I was adopting a kid.  Funny enough, I think that might be a totally plausible conclusion for some people to come to about me.

The adoption agency pays the bills.  It was originally just meant to be me helping out an old employer with office organization until I found a "real job."  Then it suddenly became a "real job," funny how that happens.   My boss dropped an adoption finalization in my lap.  As you probably have guessed, I know absolutely nothing about adoption.  I don't even know anyone who has adopted or even been adopted.  But even so, my boss, overwhelmed by this finalization, gave me the project.  To make things a bit more stressful, the adoptive mother is fed up and outraged at the agency over this adoption.  My first email correspondence with her got me a response that started out by saying "Umm, Kassi."  Hell if that didn't piss me off.  But I used my professional prowess to send her a straightforward, yet kind email in response.  Eventually easing her over enough to not be so rude to me!  In the end, she made me feel really bad for her that all she wants is to finalize the adoption and be able to legally say that her baby is hers.  So I promised her I would take care of it, and I would take care of it quickly.

Then I realized I just promised something to someone, that I didn't have the slightest idea of how to do.

First I had to figure out what an adoption finalization is, and how to do it.  I spent the first few days emailing lawyers, adoption clerks at the court house, and even other agencies and asking them "how do I do an adoption finalization?"  Another local agency, our competition actually, was kind enough to give me a list of all the forms and paperwork I needed to get.  The finalization takes place at least 6 months after an adopted child has been living with the adoptive parent(s).  Everything becomes official once the finalization is complete and a new birth certificate, listing the adoptive parents as the parents of the child is generated.  It is pretty much the piece de resistance of adoptions.  The list the other agency gave me was quite intensive, and we were missing a lot of pieces.  None more crucial than the original birth certificate of the baby. On top of that though, our lawyer consultant (who normally would do the finalization but is quite expensive) informed me that we needed a few special motions because our case had special circumstances.  So I:

• pulled together the forms needed for the birth mother and the adoptive mother.  They each needed to sign and notarize about 6 different forms. 
• Found the forms from the court that the agency needed to fill out.  Not being a licensed social worker, I thought that my boss would need to fill them out.  But in the time it took me to corral her into the conference room and actually read and sign the forms, I was able to read through them and figure out how to do them on my own.  
• I got the lawyer to send me an example of a Motion to Waive Notice and a Motion to Approve the Open Adoption Agreement.  These were needed because of the special circumstances of this case.  What I find funny about the motions, is that they are in total lawyer jargon.  Complete with Hereto and wherefore and such.  It seems strange that I'm just typing up this super important court document in word on my laptop.  But that's what I did.  
• The biggest, most important, most complicated piece of the puzzle is the child's birth certificate.  Now we are supposed to have the birth certificate.  We did not have it.  I don't know if we had it at one point and lost it, if someone else had it, or what.  Fact remained, we didn't have it.  I figured out you get those from the Registry of Vital Statistics.  According to their website, you only need to know the birth date, birth place, and child's name to get the certificate.  It was too good to be true.  I called the office many times, only to ever get a voicemail.  I finally decided to go talk to someone, so I drove out to Dorchester (its right by the UMass Boston campus...very very pretty!).  I learned that you have to be a parent to get the certificate (duh!) and that if the parents are not married at the time of birth, the record is automatically restricted.  Being that we are the adoption agency and until the finalization is complete we technically have guardianship of the baby, we are allowed to get the certificate...but it takes a helluva lot of forms to get it.  I went back the next day with the birth mother's surrender, a copy of the agency's license, a copy of my boss's social work license, a letter that I wrote stating that I am an employee of the agency, a copy of my driver's license.  It took about 15 minutes of the guy checking with people to see if he could give me the the birth certificate...but he did!  I got it!  I got the birth certificate!  It has been a long time since I felt so happy and accomplished and all over a form for a kid I've never met!

So that's where we stand with the finalization.  I have more forms to send to the respective mothers, and still waiting on forms I sent them to come in.  My boss has to ok another form I made up and then we take all 75 million forms and letters and affidavits and motions to the adoption clerk and hope and pray that he doesn't say I did it all wrong.

Ebbs and Flows

Unfortunately, my life just isn't as consistently interesting enough to keep my blog up as I had hoped it would be. Or maybe, I need to re-frame how I view things.  Regardless:  an update.

So November and December were hard months for me.  There was my usual dislike for the holiday season and my new found dislike of cold weather to confront.  Along with my stagnant professional life and to top if all off things didn't go so well with Cute Red Head.  (I really thought with a first date story like we had, it would have lasted longer--oh well).  So I wallowed for for awhile.  Some of the wallowing I did in Mexico, which was awesome.  (That's where the re-framing part comes it, cuz that was really cool, but I was stuck in my own downward spiral at the time).

What wallowing does do for you, is it gives you a chance to think.  Think of all the things you want to change, and it give you the courage to change them.  At least for me it does.  In my wallowing, I was able to get a gig in a holiday market selling Rwandan baskets.  It was somewhat hokey, but I met some cool people and I saved enough money to completely pay off my Mexico trip, all other debt (excluding student loans of course) and still have a fair bit left for my next adventure.

I also networked my way into a volunteer position at my favorite non-profit public health organization.  I say networked my way in....I kind of stalked my way in, but more on that later. This.Is.Huge.  This organization has so many resumes come through not only for jobs but also for volunteer positions.  (In fact, another volunteer was going through and sending out thank you denial letters to all the other volunteer applicants this week because they are all full up).  It feels like a job, I treat it like a job, but it does not pay.  And for the moment, that is ok with me.  I am so excited to be a part of the work they do that I'm happy to enter data or stuff envelopes for hours on end for free.  Obviously, I won't be able to sustain this indefinitely because, well, I need a job.  But for now, I'm so pumped everyday that I get to go in to the office.  This volunteer gig is a huge opportunity and will open a lot of doors for me.  After volunteering two days, I discovered a global health fellowship program, which I am in the process of applying for.   I'm also in the process of stalking, I mean networking, with everyone who has a connection to the global health fellowships.  So wish me luck!  Because it could be everything I've been looking for!

The Thing About Facebook Birthdays Is

I hate them.

There is not a day that goes by where at least one of my FB friends has a birthday.  Facebook is kind enough to remind me of my friends aging, which I do appreciate.  But just because facebook tells me its Stacy's birthday, I am obliged to write the standard message on Raquel's wall. (I don't know a single person named Raquel).  So I am writing this blog as an apology to all the friends who have had a birthday and not received the standard FB message from me.  Its not because I don't care that its your day, I just didn't say so on FB.  To be fair, there are a number of people on facebook that I wouldn't normally call up on their birthday to chat with, so it feels a bit fake to write it on their walls.  But now I'm stuck in this conundrum of how do I say happy birthday to those I care about without looking like a bitch to those who maybe I don't.  I suppose the easy thing to do is go all or nothing.  But all is overwhelming and nothing is boring.

The thing about opinions is...

I have them.  Lots of them.  And I share them, frequently.  If you're one of my 6 followers you probably already know this.  I post a lot of articles on Facebook. Most of them political.  And all in hopes that someone who doesn't agree with me will actually read it.  Make a conservative see the light of day?  I acknowledge that this is a stratus cloud fantasy, but I still hold hope.  Maybe its the Pollyanna in me.  I know I've offended my fair share of Facebookers.  But to me, its all for a good cause.

On the flip side, I do read what my friends post.  Not that they will be able to change my mind, but out of genuine curiosity about what they feel strongly enough about to post.  Most the time I can let the  jargon pass with a judgmental roll of the eyes.  Occasionally I can not.  Then I get entangled in a heated back and forth.  Some might question why how I get along with said friends, sometimes I do as well.  But I hold on to them with the fleeting hope that something, anything, I said made the least bit of sense to them. 

That is all a way to say:

-I will forever keep posting political articles and tidbits.
-I will hold you accountable for the things you post, therefore don't post anything you are not willing or able to defend.


Some other facebook rules not related to politics though just as likely to offend:

-I do not, under any circumstances care to read about anything that comes out of your baby.  Doesn't matter which end or whether its good or bad news.  If its on the reverse track, keep it within the family.
-I will not wish you a happy birthday on Facebook.  Sorry.  Its generic and meaningless.  Though I really do appreciate all the birthday messages I get on my birthday.  I realize that this is a double standard.  Again, sorry.

Story Telling Jealousy and a Boy

I have a friend who I met in Sydney.  She's not Australian, but we were in the same program together.  She is currently away for what has to be a tremendously challenging and rewarding job in Africa.  While she's away, she has been keeping a blog for her family and friends (kinda like I did in Australia, but have since let it slip by the way side).  Today I was reading one of her posts about funny things guys say, and I got jealous.  Not jealous of the funny things guy say, but jealous of her story telling ability and gall to post it in a blog.  Kudos Heather!   (If you think I'm even remotely funny or entertaining, you should check out her blog)

So, as inspired by her I thought I'd maybe not start it up again, but at least post a blog since I have a bit of a funny story to tell.  At least I think its funny, and I know Erica will appreciate it ;)  Its about a boy.   I have purposefully not friended said boy or let him in on my blog.  I'm not sure why.  I jokingly say its because then I can talk about him.  Which is kinda true, except I haven't really talked about him, and we have mutual friends who would make so much fun of me.  If they see this, I will never live it down. 

Regardless, here goes.

Back in June, my brother in law had his company picnic.  Being the family nanny and also chomping at the bit to do anything social, I was of course in attendance.  While sipping a glass of champagne with a friend, I off offhandedly say, "who's the Cute Red Head playing frisbee?"  My friend, knowing my penchant for red heads and being ginger herself jumps at the opportunity (unbeknownst to me).  At dinner the Cute Red Head just happens to sit next to me and we chat a bit.  It was all a little awkward and he seemed really shy.  The whole group of us had a pleasant time and that was the end of it. 

Oh but it wasn't.

A little bit of back story to make scene 2 makes sense.  Most of you know that I am currently job hunting for a public health job and that my brother in law runs a health related online company here in Boston.  Because of this, he has been helping me network with his contacts.  I had a lunch about 2 weeks ago with an older gentleman named Mike who has worked in public health in Boston for something like 35 years.  He's a good person to have a professional lunch with.  After leaving the lunch, carrying Julia in her bucket with me, I happen to see the Cute Red Head eating in the lobby of the office.  I nod hello, and silently exit the building. 

The next day, I happen to be back in Chicago driving with Jessica when I get an email from Mo (who also works for my brother in law and is connected in public health) about jobs.  At the very end of the email she says "Oh, and Michael asked for your number.  Its on your resume, but I wanted to check with you before I gave it out."  I immediately got excited that Mike had some jobs contacts for me and it was the big break I've been working for.  I respond "of course!  I meant to send Mike my resume, please do pass my number along."  Then I went on my merry weekend having fun and trying to hide my anticipation for a job interview coming my way.

Come Monday, back in Boston.  While eating dinner with the Heywoods a call comes through with an unknown number.  An unfortunate side to job hunting is that every single unknown number that comes to my phone I automatically think is potential job.  The caller says his name is Michael from PLM (brother in laws company).  At first I thought he said Pier One (why?) and thought it was a telemarketer, which is just not cool on the cell phone.  He repeats, we get on same page.  Michael invites me to drinks with him and some other PLM people the upcoming Friday.  I automatically say yes, if someone who has contacts to get my a job want to grab drinks, I will.  End of story. 

But that's when I start to question why this gentleman who is at least my father's age would be inviting me to drinks.  Thinking that is almost inappropriate and not sure what to say.  My mind trying to make sense of this situation, I start wondering why this older, most likely married man would even be hanging out with the young nerdy programmer guys (who I had previously learned play rock band and grab drinks on Friday nights). 

Thats when it hits me.  I don't even know how I got to the conclusion because I was completely unaware of Cute Red Head's real name.  But I suddenly knew without a doubt that Cute Red Head was Michael, who got my number from Mo and was asking me out on a date.  A strangely group date, but still a date. 

I reluctantly and nervously went to the office that Friday totally expecting it to be horribly awkward and a huge mistake.  And at first it was.  I had to interrupt my brother in law in a meeting to let me in.  When I walk upstairs to the lobby there's 4 or 5 guys all sitting on the couch together watching Futurama on the projection screen.  Nerds.  This was not going to be good.  They said hi, but otherwise left me to play Words on my phone until the show ended. By then I'm considering going home already.  My brother in law's brother Jamie (am I related to him??)  comes out and we chat a bit.  I finally ask him where the beer is.  Feeling it would be too mean to leave, I decide to have one beer and if its still horrible, make up some excuse to go.  Jamie looks at the guys and berates them loudly saying "Do you know who she is?! She is the bosses sister, she watches his kids and has a Masters Degree.  Someone get the girl a beer!" 

Thanks Jamie.  We really needed more awkwardness there.  Regardless, I get a beer and thankfully, the show being over everyone gets up and they do actually talk to me.  We hang around long enough for me to finish my beer then a small group of us walk to a nearby restaurant.  Dinner and drinks go surprisingly well, conversation is good, everyone's really nice, and Cute Red Head is not as shy as I remember him being.  (I just don't know how to handle Shy).  Our group grows then dwindles.  4 of us left we decide to go catch a comedy show that a guy who had been there earlier was in.  The other couple drop out to go home on the way, leaving me panicking at the thought of being alone with Cute Red Head and I'm convinced the conversation is going to die with just two of us.  Much to my surprise the conversation continues to flow.  We go to comedy show, then grab some more drinks, then walk along the river back to my car.  A surprisingly positive ending to the most awkward meeting of two people. Ever.

Picture dump of Sydney Botanical Gardens

I found this post that had never posted.  I wonder if I meant to come back to it?  Who knows.  Either way, enjoy some pics of the the gorgeous Sydney Botanical Gardens.  It really might be the most beautiful place in the world!

To continue the epically long day of sight seeing, Ashley and I continued to the Botanical Gardens.  I could spend eternity in the Botanical Gardens on a warm sunny day.

jhu

Sydney in the Sun and Rain

Leaving the Great Ocean Road resulted in my nervous breakdown.  You may remember my post about being Homeless in Australia, while that post was written just before I left for Melbs and the GOR.  After the amazing trip that we had, I realized on the last day that I was going back to Sydney where I didn't have a place to live, I had about 5 papers left to write in about 10 days, no job, no money.  I was freaking out.

When I got back to Sydney the flaky landlord dude surprisingly came through and got me a bed in his international house in Bronte, a beach-side neighborhood of Sydney.  About equally as far out as my previous apartment but in a different direction.  My international house turned out to be a helluva lot better than I expected!  My roommates were awesome, I had a queen size bed in a huge room with an amazing ocean view :)  It was so great.

My beach, aka Bronte

I thought I was going to hate it there, being the oldest of the 21 other people living there.  I set it up so I'd only have to be there for 6 weeks just at the end of uni.  I was hardly ever there and all I wanted to do was  hang in the living room watching movies with my roommates. 

Those papers I had to write to finish that little Masters Degree I was doing took up most of my time and sanity.  A few times I had to turn a 3,000 word paper around from start to finish in one day.  That's intense.  I did allow myself to take a break and celebrate Halloween with my roommates and a box or two of goon :)

Alies from Holland, Elsa from France, and me

It was most of my roommates' first Halloween.  America has the stronghold on Halloween, which made some of their costumes entertaining to a Halloween veteran.  We had a great night and it was really special to be part of their first Halloween.

Shortly after Halloween, Ashley arrived!  (I like cramming as much in as possible).  I still had one paper to write, but it was forced to wait.  Ash and I had 4 days in Sydney and then headed up north to the Great Barrier Reef and the Whitsundays.

The day Ashley arrived we dropped her bags and hit the beach!  There's a great walk from my beach, Bronte to the most famous beach in Australia, Bondi.  Its about a mile its 3kg long and beautiful!

We started with the Bronte to Bondi walk on a beautiful day 

 

I think my grandmother would love my style :)  I'm not being sarcastic and I still love this dress and this hat and both of them together.  Beverly Hills, FL be damned!

 

Bondi Icebergs seaside pool.  First life savers club of Australia turned shwanky country club. Supposedly they train with ice chunks in the water to simulate natural conditions, hence the name Icebergs.  Thinking about it now, seems a bit obnoxious when they could just train in, oh I don't know, the Ocean? 

View of Bronte from Bondi.  Our beautiful day only lasted long enough for us to get to Bondi...then it poured buckets on us.  With everyone on the beach trying to get home, buses were packed and we were forced to talk a mile up hill in pouring rain.  Welcome to Sydney!

Ashley is a formidable traveler.  After spending 24 hours flying across the world, spending a toursity day on the beach that ended with us soaking wet, she pulled it together and went out with a night on the town with some uni friends!

We enjoyed a giant flaming pina colada at a swanky cocktail bar...yum!

Jet lag affecting her decision making skills perhaps?

Hannah and I, after spending a week long vaca together and we didn't want to kill each other

Day two was a rainy day, so we decided to hop on a free Hunter Valley tour with my shady landlord and awesome roommates.  Hunter Valley is a famous wine region about two hours north of Sydney.  There are always tour groups going up for about $150, or you can rent a car for the cost of gas plus $50 a day.  We were lucky enough that shady landlord had two extra spaces :)

Alies, Ashley and I at a wine tasting.

The ride back to Sydney was also a lot of fun.  We had five people in our car from all around the world.  Everyone had a chance to play with the radio, but no one was able to pick music that everyone knew.  Until we came upon The Beatles.  Funny how the entire car was rocking out and knew all the words.

On day three we braved the cloudy skies to do the best sight seeing Australia has to offer.  Here is a map of Circular Quay (Key) in the Sydney Harbour.

 Unfortunate the clouds drown out the Opera House

Ashley has a thing for lamp posts.  I don't get it but this picture is pretty rad.

 Love my face.  We tried this pic about a bazillion times, but I couldn't handle the bright light without my sunglasses, lol.  I kept my eyes closed until Ashley said go, but this time she took too long. I like this end result better, lol.

 We were kinda lost looking for the pylon on the Harbour Bridge.  The Rocks, the neighborhood, is notoriously confusing.

We found the pylon!  Oprah famously climbed the Harbour Bridge.  For us, non-Oprahs it costs about $200!  Too rich for my blood.  Instead, some friends early on turned me onto the pylon.  On of the pillars of the bridge (which I learned are just aesthetic and don't hold any weight) is a museum. You pay $9 and can walk to the top of it, about 11 flights up.  Offers great views of the Harbour, and some unique history of Sydney and the building of the famous Harbour Bridge. 

 View of downtown Sydney and The Rocks

 Terrible clouds rolling in :(  But this is the side of the Harbour that most people never see.  That bridge is the Anzac Bridge (it looks a lot like the Zakim Bridge in Boston btw).  On the right hand side of that bridge is where my first apartment in Sydney was located.  Also, that cruise ship is ginormous!

The Botanical Gardens with Kings Cross and Wooloomooloo in the background.


And just for a point of reference (and to remind me of how much I've changed) on the pylon on day 3 in Australia:

On top of the pylon 9 months later:

After the pylon, it was time for lunch.  I was pumped to take Ashley to my favorite place in The Rocks/downtown area.  Introduced to me by a Chicago Dad I babysit for, Lachlan who was nice enough to smuggle things into the country for me twice! The reason I love The Australian Hotel is mostly just for the kangaroo pizza! 

 Mmmm kangraoo pizza and sunshine.  Doesn't get any better.

 Blood sugar levels up we walked around the Quay to the Botanical Gardens.

 I swear I have the most sensitive eyes in the world.

Just thought I'd throw in an out take, lol