Today is adopion day.  The day I received the best gift of my life.

Three years four months and sixteen days ago a charming, brown-eyed, pint sized, almost three year old, fire-cracker of a girl came to live with us.  Although she came at a time when we weren’t looking for her, somehow we were always expecting her.

Two years ago today our family went to court to finalize her adoption.  Now she is six and we can’t remember what our family was like without her.  She is kind, smart and opinionated, resilient, stubborn and very self-aware.  On her birthday this year, we took both girls out to dinner.  She was sitting next to me and at one point I looked over at Robb and said, what did we ever do without this?  (about 3 1/2 seconds later she did something naughty)

About a month ago she asked me, what does adopted mean? (apparently her class had read a book about a family adopting a kitten). 

I thought, here we go, sent up a quick prayer for words and said, adoption is when someone gives a home and a family to someone who needs it.

Am I adopted?

Yes.  You didn’t grow in my tummy like Isaac and Ezri, but God grew you in my heart and the first time I saw you I knew you belonged in our family.

O, that’s right.  I used to live with [her birth mother] and then I lived with Karli and then I came to live with you.

That’s right, I said, and grabbed her up in a big hug, but don’t think you are ever getting away from us.  You’re stuck with us forever.

How does one properly celebrate Adoption Day?