5th Layer of Hell...The Bridesmaid That Isn't

The scene: Family room, 12:35p, I rush into house from garage, expecting H to be asleep and P sitting there with fork and knife waiting for his lunch that I have in my hands...I'm winded and pissed off from being out in public the weekend before Christmas. I won't get into how close I came to giving an idiot soccer mom who was contributing to the 15-miles under the limit crawl on major North-South road...with her mini-van full of small, impressionable children. I still regret not doing it.

H is sitting in her pottery barn chair, hiccuping and giggling, and P is on the phone. About to wring my mother's neck, then P mouths "(sister's name)".

Bleck. T minus 23 minutes until SW shows up.

I get child ready for nap. P gets to talk to F-BIL, gets asked to stand up. Then, he says "oh, you want to talk to K?!"

Bleck. T minus 20 minutes.

We trade, child for phone. He takes her upstairs, she's of course pissed off, cause Mom is just home from errands and back in her world. I get on the phone. She "wants to tell me what the scoop is."
H is flower girl.
P is groomsman.
K? I'm the bridesmaid that isn't. She wants me to be the "flowergirl escort". Which is pussy-speak for: "I'm still pissed about not being in your wedding 12 years ago (never mind I was a bitch to you for no reason, because my mother told me to, and wasn't speaking to you at the time..due to blood, I should have been standing there, hating you marrying my brother, with an ugly look in all your pictures), but I tell my fiance that I love and adore all my family, and I can't admit I don't like you, so this is my way to make myself feel better."

She doesn't care what I find for H to wear (which is cool). I tell her that I can gently shove H down the aisle, and with Dada at the other end, she'll be cool. No. Not good enough. I have to have a bridesmaid dress, apparently, so I match my daughter, who is going to wear any ivory dress I can find.

Seriously, why do I have to pony up for a dress if I'm not getting the "glory"? And, dear Gawd, it's sleeveless. And H is going to be in ivory, so, WTF?

Tminus 15 minutes: She informs me that all her maids are tall and blond like her, and skinny, so she's having to consider my coloring (and female shaped backside) for the dress. FU.

Tminus 10 minutes, with her fiance listening in, she asks me 10 times if this is all ok. Like I have time to fight this now? Lunch in bag, now cold, child not asleep upstairs yet.

Tminus 8 minutes, she goes into the wedding being at 6:30, for a 1/2 hour, then 1/2 an hour for nothing, then an hour for drinks, then dinner...so, what? 9pm? Yeah, so my kid has to walk down the aisle during her dinner time. And we have to take her back to IL's house before dinner for bed, so we won't get to eat either. Oh yeah, this is going to be awesome. I try to explain that everyone would understand me in any nice dress, "oh look, she was a little scared, mom's with her". No. No dice.

Oh, and she expects all the family from here to come, stay at major hotel chain nearby, and hire hotel babysitters for approx. 25 children. Yeah, right. Never would we leave our kids with random people. Tell her to get one of mom's friend to play chaperone to them all at IL's house, as some are older. No, she doesn't want to be involved. But she wants everyone in town.

T minus 2 minutes, about to hang up on her. SW shows up. I answer door with phone on ear. Trying to swallow my vomit in my mouth before I say hello.

Fa-la-la-la.


At least we like our new SW and she seems to like us...Taiwan, here we come. If I don't get an arrest warrant over the Memorial Day Weekend.

At least it'll be classy...I'll be busted in heels and a "cornflower" dress at a very ritzy golf club. Though my mug shot will show my baby-lifting arms.

Feeling that Dating-Butterfly Feeling...

We have our first visit with our new SW for the Taiwan adoption Saturday. I thought I would have this down...that I'd feel low-key and confident this time around. I did ok getting thru the initial paperwork, though I had the "little snafu" with the one moron employee that cost us 4 months that pissed me off...I still didn't get as torqued and worried about every little word/nuance/change in plan with this adoption. I felt and feel confident in the weird comforting feeling of deja vu, of the feeling of familiarity with the tediousness and the formality of the process...I somehow feel comfort in the process, knowing and feeling the process working.

Now, with this SW coming, I've gone back to that oh-my-dear-gawd-I-hope-she-likes-me panic mode.

Why? Why do I do this to myself? It is what it is, they will approve us, or they will not. There's no reason why we wouldn't be approved.

I guess I'm still a nervous teenager at heart at the old age of 34...

4th Layer of Hell...The Date, and The Wedding Party

We got a call from the ILs today. SIL has set a date. No, she didn't call - her parents did.

It's Memorial Day weekend. Yes, we have to travel to a warm, well-vacationed state over a 3 day "first days of summer" holiday. Yes, we have to spend over 750USD to go watch a woman we talk with twice a year get married. Mind you, 97% of P's family will have to travel to this wedding. 97% of the family will have to pay Memorial Day Prices. Nice.

Oh, and it gets better. I had to out and out say, to MIL, "Is H in the wedding or not? As in, what days do you need us there, because we have to buy tickets like...now. SIL said she thought she'd have her as a flower girl." Oh, yes, she says...of course. And then... "You are all in the wedding."

Mind you, P has never heard from SIL or BIL-To-Be on this. She has never said boo to him about standing up in the wedding. So, I guess it's assumed that: 1. He can do it. 2. He can afford to do it. 3. He knows he'll be in it. 4. He'll know what tux to get?!

And me? I panicked for a second. But, I'm not really in the wedding, I'm the flower girl escort. That means that SIL doesn't want me in the wedding (she must still blame me for her not being in ours 12 years ago, even though it was her brother's decision), but she's too sissy to admit it. I don't care, I don't want to be in it. Of course, I get the worst of both worlds - I have to buy a dress to coordinate with H, who will be in a "complimentary color to the bridesmaids" - so what, I'm complimentary to complimentary? She'll be 2 years, 3 months, can't I just put P at the alter, me at the back and tell her to go to Dada? The only benefit I can think of, I'll probably be excluded from most pictures.

So, for someone who didn't give me a wedding gift 12 years ago, didn't come to my shower 12 years ago, did not acknowledge my baby shower a year ago, nor ever send an email or anything when we came home with H...I'm supposed to spend over a thousand dollars for her wedding? Plane tickets for 3. A rental car, cause we can't assume we can ride with the ILs the whole time, a gift, a dress for H, a dress for me, a tux for P, at the very least. Time off from work.

Oh, and I was told if SIL decides to enforce the no-kids rule (they said they want the Flower Girl and Ringbearer there), then MIL said she'd get a friend of hers to watch H...ummm...NO. No. No. I will not leave my daughter with a stranger in a strange home (she's spent 3 days of her life there) with a lot of activity going on. I don't care if she's a Drs wife...not going to happen. H would freak. I'm also not paying for H to go all the way there to spend money on a dress for a photo op and then force her back to the house to hang with a stranger. Nope. Then Dada goes by himself.

Oh, and funny side note: the day after the wedding? That's MIL's bday. Soooo, if we leave on Sunday, we've got a 87% chance of becoming the a**holes of the family again. But if we stay till Monday, not only do we have no time to get H settled back in before P starts another long week of working on the other side of the city with matching commute, but it costs us a buttload more money for the plane tickets.

We're so screwed, aren't we?

Warm and Fuzzies...Till I Got The Mail

Today was a day to make me, the self-styled cynic looking into the world from the outside, all fuzzy and warm inside...I've been feeling worn down with the race to get Taiwan started (we have HS appointments!), the holidays (and the complete lack of ideas for my husband's gifts) (correction - all ideas I had were given away to others). Work is calling me back with the evil siren song...quiet cajoling is a better way to describe it. And I'm torn. And the cajoling is getting louder. H has been testing the last few days again - me specifically...P is gravy to her! I'm not sleeping well etc etc etc. No time to do my Mandarin homework, blah, blah, blah. Anyways, I decided today would be stay at home pj day (well, for me at least)...H was more motivated and got dressed. It's too cold to run to T**get today...6 days and counting since I've been there! Keeping the streak alive!

Presenting what made me so happy:

H's first batch of cookies. Ever. And they are my favorite Christmas cookies - Magic Cookie Bars. She's so thoughtful! Some said I was nuts...cooking with a 20 month old. She LOVED it. These were good ones for her - she could never mix yet, but, dump and spread? The kid's a natural! It's what she does all day long...all over our house. She thought it hysterical to put the nuts and chips and such in the measuring cups. I taught her how to tap it with her fingers to get the bumps out of the top of the cups, and held her hand as she spread it in the pan. She loved just standing on the chair (with mama holding her of course - gotta get her one of those tower things for her birthday!) Then she learned that you have to taste the ingredients to make sure they are good quality. She's a hooked baker now. It was an awesome morning. Even after the spitting the breakfast eggs on the floor incident. A memory I hope I remember on my death bed...making H's first batch of Christmas cookies. One of the bucket list things I can check off now. I waited so long for that. And it was just mama and her - our thing. And I'm this happy and I haven't even gotten a chocolate fix off of them yet!

Cue evil music...

Then the mail came...

What the hell did I do to someone in a past life to get on this mailing list? My dear Gawd....I'm only 34! What is that, the new 97? Bleck. Is some republican spy satellite picking up my gray hairs? Did my ob/gyn sell her hysterectomy file names? I don't care if these people were selling 1 carat flawless diamonds dipped in the best chocolate in the world - never ever would I ever order from a catalog named this:

Go away evil marketers targeting the aging baby boomers. I am not one of them. I am their child. And shame on you for thinking I am...go get a new bifocal perscription, cause yours is obviously crap. What marketing genius spent how many dollars with how many focus groups to create a name that explains, but doesn't offend, with the generic looking maybe she's old and awesome lady on the cover? Bleck. Double Bleck. To the recycling bin with you.

Days Like This...

Days like this get to me...first off, they choke me up just cause I love it if I can be in my lounge pjs all day. But mostly, not only do I love this time of year naturally, when I don't have to commute in it, but I associate this time with my "imaginary daughter" more than any other time of the year.

Our paperwork went to China in December. We got referral a year ago next week...we travelled to China in mid-February...all this lends itself to the memories of the wait. Add to that my Christmas-addiction, and I'm now seeing all my winter daydreams slowly coming true. I have a pic of H from 2 days ago...she's in her snow parka, and her purple snow boots, with two hoods on her head, and she's covered in snow, with this cute impish grin on her face. I remember all the snowy days where P and I said "screw it" and threw caution to the wind and sat in the house doing whatever we wanted instead of the to-do list for the weekend in the few years past and I'd find myself staring out at the trees and snow wondering about her for a few minutes...I remember looking out last winter while waiting to travel, looking at the full moon over the snow in the backyard and the ice on the wetlands one wickedly cold night...thinking of her, wondering if she would see that moon the next night.

I also had most of my surgeries in the winter. Including the big "H". I had lots of time in Feb of 07 to sit on the couch and look out the window as I healed the 6 inch scar in my belly...wondering if we'd ever be close, when she'd be here, if she was alive (she wasn't).

Now I find myself busting my hump to get the paperwork started for Taiwan. And the snows are flying again. I think I will always associate the winter with my children. The difference? Aside from finding myself not getting my undies in a bundle over every little nuance of every word in my biography, I look up from the biography to either see H fingering a Christmas ornament on the tree, or here her squeal and she looks out the window at the big flakes and hear "nnnoooowww" squeaked out. Or, I see her monitor blink a light as she turns over, sleeping and dreaming.

Nothing will take away the pain and the fears of the 2.5 years we waited for her. But I wouldn't want it to, in a way...I like seeing all my daydreams that the wait created coming true now.

The Gay Discussion

I had this disscusion awhile ago with my mom...perhaps about a month or so. I've finally been able to remember it without throwing up a little bit in the back of my throat, so here's a reenactment, so y'all know why I love her, but don't feel close to her...and why I don't by into her sanctimonious religion crap.

Note, this was in the runup to the election.

Mother: (Watching news I have on while I eat) What is with these people? Why don't they realize we don't care what they think?

Me: Who? (Munch.)

Mother: The gays. No one cares who they think should be President.

Me: I would think some would want the white guy, and some would want the black guy...(trying to goad her into a discussion she might feel some shame over)...

Mother: I wish they'd just go back to being quite about everything again. This is why society is going down the drain. (Her new favorite comment on anything and everything, BTW).

Me: Waaaaa???

Mother: It's obvious that they are sick.

Me: Whaaaa?

Mother: Well, we know it isn't natural. It states it in the Bible.

Me: So, you don't see people who are this way, and have always felt this way? You don't think that's how they were made? If they were, then isn't that what God allowed? Or planned? What about P's cousin? The family says you could tell when he was 7.

(Side note, dear mom was a FA for a once important airline - she flew with a ton of gay people and had them as friends at one time!)

Mother: Well, it could be a chemical thing or something, but they should get funding to find a drug to fix it then. And the devil does things that God doesn't want.

Me: (Attempting to shine some reason)...so, gays are so bad, huh? So you support the Arkansas craziness? No babies to gays or singles or non-marrieds? It's better for them to be in foster care then people they might catch the gay from?

Mother: Totally. No baby should be raised by that. It's adam and eve, that's how it should be. (Sidenote: Gag)

Me: Have you seen what happens to kids in foster care? Really? That's better?

Mother: No, but how would they learn to be normal? How do you learn to be married, and know how boys and girls should act?

Me: Ummmm...aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends...and their parents. Do you think a gay couple really is at all different in how they act in a household? One cleans the bathrooms, one cooks. They fight. They band together when needed.. They support each other. What happens after Squirt goes to bed doesn't really affect the kid.

Mother: It's not normal.

Me: So, you think H would have been better in an orphanage her whole life if CCAA had only the option of gay parents? You were just saying last week, you wondered what she would be like if she hadn't come here...if she'd still have delays, what her personality would be.

Mother: Some day, some straight couple would have wanted her. It would have been better to stay in an orphanage for a few years, then go to gays.

Me: Drooling, as my jaw hangs in my soup.

That's hardcore...the granddaugher you love so much, adore with all your heart. You would hypothetically rather her be in a SWI than with two men or women? I think I also pointed out in the middle of it that gays want the things that she's so badly bemoaned my generation for not wanting (marriage etc)...so, they want to do those things that she says society needs.

That's why I don't buy her message of everything being good if you are a devout Christian. Seems just about as intolerant as you can come.

Thank you for letting me share the crazy. Just the thought of anyone ever thinking any reason would have justified H being in a SWI drives me to tears. And any religious house that has taught that level of thought can't be righteous in my mind.