I found myself telling Seth tonight that he shouldn’t give halfhearted apologies.  In an instant, I became my Mother.  Which got me to thinking.  What on earth does halfhearted mean?

halfhearted – adj Exhibiting or feeling little interest, enthusiasm, or heart; uninspired

Which got me to thinking about what a wholehearted apology looks like.

wholehearted – adj. Exhibiting no reserve or reservation

wholeheartedly – adv. Marked by unconditional commitment, unstinting devotion, or unreserved enthusiasm

Half a year has passed since the day we signed a piece of paper that made Sofija legally ours.  In some ways it seems ridiculous that six whole months have passed, but in some ways it seems ridiculous that she’s only been our daughter for six months.  We love her wholeheartedly.  Without reservation, we are unconditionally committed, undeniably devoted, and unreservedly enthusiastic about being her parents.

If you’ve followed our entire adoption journey, you know that our Gotcha Day was not one we choose to commemorate.  However, I did take a moment today to stop and skim through my memories of April 27th in search of some humor..

It was refreshing to realize that there were several moments in the day that I can now laugh out loud over.  As we left the adoption ceremony in a mad dash to get her new birth certificate, passport and visa in two short hours, our lawyer flagged down two cabs on the side of a very busy thoroughfare.  In the middle of our effort to climb into the vehicles as quickly as possible, Sofija lifted her dress and squatted to pee on the curb.  She didn’t bother to pull down her tights or panties and she was close enough to the doorway of the taxi that the driver began screaming at her and shaking his hand in the air.  At the time, I was horrified.  Six months and several urine-scented outings later, it’s pretty funny.

The last leg of our mad dash was from the police station (where we applied for her passport) to the American embassy.  The walk was two short blocks, straight up a hill.  Sofija had decided at the police station that she was done walking.  I think I wrote about how many times she would do the rag-doll thing and just go limp as we walked down the street, holding her hand.  About half-way up the last block of hill that lead to the embassy, she dropped to the ground.  To be honest, we were all tired and I was wondering if it would be totally inappropriate for me to just drop to the ground and take a rest next to her.  I didn’t have long to wonder.  She had no intentions of just resting.  She started flailing all around.  In her attempt to kick every one of us as quickly as possible she began spinning around on her back in a form that closely resembled break-dancing.

The sidewalk we were on had about thirty-six inches of space between the building to our right and the busy street to our left.  The seven of us (our family and the lawyer) were taking up all of those thirty-six inches of sidewalk.  The dozens of pedestrians using the sidewalk at the same time of us were all a little bewildered by the scene we were creating.  Most of them stepped into the street in order to keep as much distance from our little break-dancer as possible.  One brave gentleman chose a different path.  Wearing a nice business suit and shiny leather shoes, he clenched his briefcase tightly in one hand and a folder tightly in the other as he attempted to step over Sofija.

Big mistake!  I think I tried to warn him, but I was screaming in English and I’m sure he just thought I was an obnoxious American.  One foot lifted off the ground and landed safely on the downhill side of her.  The other shiny shoe only made it half the distance.  We realized at that moment that our daughter has lightning fast reflexes.  She went from thrashing all around to holding his shoe in both of her hands and his ankle in between her teeth.  As I sit here typing I can’t stop laughing.  He shook her off!  It was like a picture of a postman with his arms full of mail and a little dog nipping at his ankle.  Except it wasn’t a little dog.  It was my child.

Oh, well.  We all survived the day (including the brave businessman) and right now the visual is pretty stinkin’ funny.

Phew….I’m still laughing wholeheartedly.

I can’t say this half-year has been all belly laughs.  In fact it hasn’t even been full of laughing halfheartedly.  But it has been full of the same kind of wholehearted love for all four of my children as I have for my God.

Deutoronomy 11:13-14 “If you carefully obey the commands I am giving you today and love the Lord your God and serve him WHOLEHEARTEDLY, then he will send rain on your land at the right time, in the fall and spring, and you will be able to gather your grain, new wine, and oil.”

I kinda like that promise.  And after the huge harvest we’ve seen in the past six months, I can’t wait to see what we’ll reap in this next wholehearted half-year.