ISO(In)Sanity

How Could They Leave Me?

2012-02-04T19:46:00.000-06:00

Peanut has brought up her birthparents off and on for the past 6 months. She usually says she misses her "foster parents"...Big Girl had foster parents, so that is what she thinks is in China. We have been explaining to her that she had a nanny in the SWI, and a birth mom and a birth dad.

She's expressed before that she misses them. And it hasn't gone much further than that.

Last night, she wasn't feeling great, and was out of sorts at dinner. For some reason, out of the blue, she brought up foster parents again, so we got into the discussion. We were having the normal discussion...you had a birth mom and dad, for some reason which we don't know why they couldn't take care of ANY kid...you know, the whole thing.

It was all going ok. We were good...having a good discussion. We were talking about the differences between the two girls' stories etc. All good open honest age appropriate discussion all around.

All of a sudden, Peanut starts to SOB. Big, giant, chest heaving sobs. I reach over to her and rub her arm, and ask what is wrong...what is she thinking about?

She heaves about 3-4 more giant sobs. Then stops. Dead. She meets my eyes in the strongest beautiful chocolate colored stare I've ever gotten from her:
"But...but...but...Mama...they LEFT me! They left me ALONE. I was a baby. Babies aren't supposed to be alone."
And then as she didn't move, and the biggest, roundest tears I have ever seen came rolling (even worse) silently out of her eyes as she just stared at me with knit eyebrows. For about a minute, but it felt like an eternity. Pure unadulterated pain was etched across her face.

Then the sobs racked her body again and she collapsed into a puddle of sorrow.

_______________________________
I've read the books. I've read the adoption boards. I've talked to older adoptees, and talked to friends about their kids when they hit these realizations.

And I can attest straight out that NOTHING...absolutely nothing in this world, can prepare you for the moment you see your child realize that they were abandoned helpless and alone. For that moment that they realize that their birth parents, for whatever reason, were not able (or didn't want to) make whatever sacrifice that would keep their babies with them. The realization that an adult...worse...their parent...failed them. Even if the parent couldn't help it...and these days I believe that more and more cases the parents could have done something to alleviate it, to our children, the parents failed them. They left them, helpless.

Gawd, what a horrible feeling for anyone to shoulder...and for a 4.75 year old to have that knowledge? To extrapoloate that themselves? No child should ever have to go thru that.

She was much more vigilant today at our CNY playgroup celebration. A lot more calls for us to both be within close proximity to the arts table or such.

Peanut's heart seemed to die a little bit last night.

So did mine.

A New Year

2012-01-09T09:07:00.002-06:00

Ironic that I use this blog to air out the clutter in my brain, but when it gets really cluttered and overwhelming, I stop writing. I close up my brain, I close up myself, I hunker down, do what I have to do, and really THINK about it all later. I do that here IRL too...I talk after the fact. Something my constantly questioning older daughter does not do well with. She needs to take my emotional temperature about 50 times a day, which sometimes gets very old. I remind myself though that she cares, that we haven't had to fight any of those battles.

2012 has already become a year I did not expect back around that once a year day where you get reminded that time marches on and you are headed towards the dirt at some point...the ironic celebration of your birth when your reminded via Hallmark about your (apparently imminent) death. August had me reevaluating my job, our house, myself. I had made some vows to myself, some of them to be content/ride out certain things.

And I'm about 2 lightyears from all that, just from August!

My Dad moved out West. About 18 months ago he up and sold the company. There's no acrimony between Dad and I, but he's a totally unsentimental/utterly Vulcan kinda guy. Anyways I knew this was coming...they bought the AZ Palace at about the same time as he sold the company. And of course, new management has put our whole company into a tailspin. It's not like how it was. It was a tight knit family...one I never sought out before - wanted a big company (or the government way back when) where one could function in anonimity or fly as high as they wanted. Didn't want that personal crap that came with small companies. Got sucked in when I graduated, thought I'd stay a year until the economy improved...been there 15 years now. And I loved it. You might have had someone come up to you and say "What the hell did you do with this?!" and I liked it that way. No bullshit. No target markers. No extraneous crap. Sit down, do your job, do it YOUR way, as we were all unique in our talents, and move on. Have some pizza lunches, bbq out back, do stupid shit together if we had a slow moment and it was all good. Then the Bigger Company came. We're underutilized. We're marginalized. Attitude is in the crapper. I'm coasting. Doing my job. And I hate it. If I had to be in the office, I'd have a knife to my own throat.

I got offered the idea of changing careers. It sounds wonderful. Why haven't I jumped? Well...the first is that their is a schmuck there too. One I hope is gone soon. That'd make it easier. But it's also scary. I have max flexibility, I can write my own life for right now still day to day (there is no future though), at this place...but once my Dad retires in 3.5 more years, what little shreds of what is good here will be gone, if there's even any left by then.

And that gets me back to Dad. In typical Dad fashion, we saw him on Turkey Day. He said we'd be talking before he left 10 days later. We did. About work. Now mind you, he lived about 3 minutes away. He saw my kids as much as the Grandparents in FL. I spoke with him 2 days before he left...about my step-mom dropping off the sports car. And then I realized he was gone. Yeah, it's only a 4 hour plane ride away. But he didn't say good bye to me. To his 2 granddaughters. To anyone at the office. Just left, like it didn't matter.

And that sucked. That hurt. That made me angry. And it hurt my kids. And it drove all the way into my heart, way down in the corner, the one that still holds the hurt from being left by him when I was 3, to live the life he wanted. And even though he kept talking about when he was going, it kept moving backwards, and he's ALWAYS lived by me, and poof he's gone.

And gone on his terms...again.

I know, Daddy issues. Sadly, Daddy issues feed into work issues and that together is a decent part of my life.

Moving on...
I tell you, the men in my life I driving me crazy.

There was a boy. I saw him, back when we were paperchasing for Big Girl. Still weren't DTC yet. Thought many nights to myself, if we didn't have her, I'd talk husband into a boy. He was the age that husband wanted...but we were in love and in process for our girl. Moot idea.

Then I noticed, amazingly, he was still waiting. That was now Fall of 2010.

Then we came home with Big Girl...Christmas. New Years. Husband's Bday.

Noticed he was still waiting. Could not believe it.

Summer of 2011. He was still waiting. Why? Why would such a perfect little boy still wait? Just cause he has a penis? Seriously? Minor needs, beautiful eyes, supposedly in a pretty good care situation. He didn't appear on any advocacy board, nowhere. He was forgotten on the shared list since middle of 2009. I asked for updates from our agency. They went to work on it. I threw out the line to my husband.

He would not bite. No way in hell.

I threw down, demanded a discussion. He closed up. OK. Not my best move.

Asked again for updates...just got little feel good stuff, a few pics, nothing concrete.

Now it's Fall of 2011. Ask again. Husband digs in again. Ask again about those damn updates. Somewhere I've gotten my heart invested in this. Decide to lay it all down.

I spent over a week getting all the financials of the house. Then amazingly I got an update from the SWI. An open and honest one.

He said no. I knew he would. He always does...knee jerk husband of mine. I mourned. It was over.

Three days later, husband got home from work while I was in the shower. When I turned it off, he was standing on the other side of the door. Head bowed, hands in pockets. "You know, you are right. I always say no right away. And I shouldn't do that. With the girls...or with you. I know how much xxxx means to you. And you are right, there is no reason we can't do it. When you are married, you follow each other's dreams sometimes."

I looked at him and said that we couldn't do it just cause I wanted it. It wasn't fair to him. He paused..."He is darn cute...he reminds me of Peanut. He has a good personality for our family. I see it. I just didn't want to. And the SWI started talking...now I know they aren't hiding anything. They seemed like they were hiding things. His file was so old." That...for my husband, is huge. All of it.

I waited another week. Asked him again and again...gauged his every reaction to see if it was really what he wanted. In the end, he finally got fed up with me..."Will you please send LOI already so we can go get our son?" First time he used that word. And I sent it an hour later.

So now, here we are, the beginning of January...I'm hating my job, but making money and that's the important part, still haven't decided if we should move or not, and I'm waiting for my son. Yin and Yang. That's life. More good then bad and call yourself lucky. And I am...

My girls, every day, ask when they get to go get Squish. They are overjoyed. He's 6.5, and my husband is right...he's got eyes that are going to make every girl's heart skip about 20 beats.

Fixing Me...

2011-08-30T09:27:00.003-05:00

Ahhhh, a breather, dare I say it. (Insert knock on plastic keyboard surround). Dare I risk saying: A Week With Not One Doctor's Appointment. That's a new thing. It's been over 3 months since that's happened. Now, I realize that there are people who live that life, or worse, for years. And I know we'll end up there again, but I'm thankful for this breather. Big Girl is back in school now, and is happy. Her holes from her skin biopsies are bothering her, but are healing. She has access to a new study, and therefore new options now. Peanut is waiting for Begindergarten to start, and excited for that too.

I'm a year older as of last week. The air is starting to turn just a tad cool in the morning, when we walk to school. It feels lovely. It feels fresh. Odd that as the growing season starts to think about winding down, I feel like everything *could* start to bloom in life...potential seems to fill the air.

I don't know if this is a mid-life crisis brought on as I move upwards towards 40, "deflating" since the stress of the last months has eased off, or if this is something more positive...I'm feeling need for change. Maybe it's just all the House Hunters International I've been watching, but it feels deeper than that.

I need to travel.

I need to change the house.

I need to change...me.

I'll be honest. I've been trying to lose 20 pounds, for years. I look in the mirror and I'm not happy. But I'm also not happy with how I present myself. Once upon a time I never left the house sans makeup. I'm glad I'm less uptight than that now. But I've fallen into the SAHM uniform of jeans and tshirts. My beautiful jewelry sits mostly unworn in the box. Most of my shoes go unworn. (I'm not a Vogue-reading fashionista, but I do love my shoes.) I've got my intellectual-in-training (read: nerdy bookhound) glasses, but everything else is blah. I come across to myself as blah. So how does everyone else see me? There's lots of cool shit rattling around inside my brain...but it stays there mostly.

I found myself more and more speaking of kids, school, errands, to do lists, and parenting my kids as waaaay too much of my communication load. I hate that. I'm so much smarter and more interesting than just that.

Last year, before we renovated, we looked at moving. I hated the idea of leaving my house, my beautiful, tons-of-work-poured-into-it home. Now, I could move for the right house, or the right opportunity. New. Adventure. Excitement. I am actually excited at the thought when emails from the real estate agent hit my inbox.

We hit 15 years of marriage together this past summer. A feat I'm proud of, rolling thru the rocky times that were partially brought on by infertility, and getting thru over double the length of marriage that my parents ever were able to attain, and still going. But at the same time, I had probably, for myself, the hardest summer of feeling a lack of communication between myself and my husband. Topics came up that had us at odds, and I've never ever had it where discussions were shut down on me without being treated as an equal, worthy of discussion merely because I was the partner that was speaking. And that has me still smarting. Partially cause I don't do well with that, period, partially because his parents are masters at that technique and any and all disfunction in that family unit stems from it, and is my biggest source of irritation. Therefore, I'm very vigilent as to if I ever see P starting to slide into that territory. Partially because the topic at hand sits very deep in my heart, no matter how I try to purge it from there. Do I fear for our marriage in any way? Hell No. Has it changed? Yes. Is that bad? No. Good? No. Just different? Yes. And that takes an adjustment.

Peanut will be gone 4 mornings a week this school year. Next year, it's K for her, then I've got both girls gone most of the time. Now I can look at what I'm doing with my life - I'll be chef/chauffeur/teacher/mom most of the time, but for the first time in 3+ years, I will have devoted time that I can be "me". Yeah, a lot of that will be errands and cleaning and such, but I'll have time, if I want it, to devote to me and what I want out of life. And I realize now that I have not done enough of that...nothing since Big Girl came home, not very much in all the years Peanut has been home, and actually not very much from the time we put in our paperwork for Peanut back in 2005.

So the question is: What do I do with myself? As I see it, I have a few options:

1. Embrace the new me. Come to terms with it. A few pounds I don't want, feeling like less than a *star* in life, coming to terms with suburban contentment, but potentially mediocrity. Do I say that with disdain? A smidge. But that's my point...not that I have to settle, but maybe I have to readjust my viewpoints, and realize the good I do have and be content with that...that there is nothing negative about it at all.

2. Revamp, restyle, recreate. Keep the cool glasses. Lose the weight. Tell the hairstylist to take the new haircut further...devote a few mornings a week to *me*. Find time to scrapbook, excercise, read, or better yet, learn cello, get my master gardner certification or get back to horse back riding, like I've wanted to. Push the "buy" button on that shopping cart with the cool new purse and the funky sweater with the polka dots and the crisp white - needing ironing - nicely fitting dress shirt to go under it. And most importantly, not feel guilty for making life for me too. The kids are my life, but they don't need to have my 24/7 adoration...they are of the age that if I want to read a book, I should be able to be left alone for a wee bit. Find more time for P and I too.

3. Go bat shit over the top. New hair color, lose the weight, get a tattoo, take a job, move the household to a new house with a new feel - ultra clean lined contemporary maybe. I'm guessing this is probably not the best idea, especially if I got a tattoo before losing the weight I want to lose. Oh, and make that house sitting on the cliff overlooking a valley or water of a far off place.

Either way, I have to learn to live with, or change the issues deep in my heart. That's gonna be the hard part.

But as to which option...I think 3 gets kicked to the curb cause P has an awesome job and loves it, and the girls would kill me if I moved them. Door number 1 is a good lesson in appreciation of the fine details of life, and realizing it's the little stuff that makes the biggest hill when it's piled together. Door number 2 though is a lesson in setting a goal and achieving it, for not settling for anything but everything for yourself and your loved ones. Both admirable lessons, but which is the one for me?

THIS could be your story...

2011-08-12T08:29:00.003-05:00

I've wanted to post this, in a complete post, for awhile, but I've hesitiated...I believe in SN adoptions. I totally believe in older child adoptions. I believe in IA.

I honestly believe, above a doubt, that you can love any child you are placed with. I don't believe in fate...I believe it's what we make it. A lot of people would argue with me, and I don't want to argue the point...it's how I feel.

But I ALSO believe that there are so many people who want a child, who got, well, fucked, by the shut down of much of IA in the world, so many that have dodgy agencies (cause most of them are, I dare say) that some really don't want to know what CAN happen...does happen, and have gone into SN adoption, at best, semi-prepared. Period. I believe that most agencies don't facilitate gathering of information, and some people really want to just go into this process starry eyed at the idea of a new child, which I understand. They want to play the odds, and roll the dice that it comes out in their favor, and chances are that it will. But it's foolish.

So I don't want to dissuade people by our story. But I do want to educate them, and it's a fine edged sword...and I've decided to sum it all up because in the end, I *think* it'll all turn out ok...so there's that moral to the story...

What We Were Told

We were told that Big Girl had limb differences of the left upper and left lower limb. We were told she was smart, articulate, outgoing, and had no other issues. We were not told limb lengths, and of course she was 8.5. The name given to the difference was universally dismissed by the Drs. It was not agenesis. They were growing, but were smaller.

What We Thought We Were Walking Into
We figured between the more advanced age and the lack of limb measurements that that was why she sat on the list for 3 years. We had three doctors review it. We even had my FIL the fancy neurologist look at it. We came to the assumption that either this was a random occurrance of skeletal abnormalities, probably due to environmental factors, or, more likely, we were going to get a diagnosis of minor CP when she was brought home. We knew she'd be delayed in behaviors, the language would be a huge issue, all those things that we knew would be big hurdles like customs, social mores, language, family integration etc and worked on learning about that...a LOT. All the Drs felt this was basically a non-issue...the limb difference was minimal from the photos, and everything looked great. She was on the shorter side, but hey, on the charts.

What We Saw When We Got To China
She came to us much as we figured. Clean, quiet, introverted, scared, inquisitive, and quickly changing to curiosity and exploration mode. She wanted to know everything. She had a basic learning of the English language - most alphabet letters were known, some basic words. She proudly showed off her math skills. She played quite well with our 3.5 year old...too well. She really does NOT act like the now-9 year old she is. And honestly, that has taken some getting used to. A lot, on our parts, actually.

We also saw spotting on her skin, on her forearms and calves. Ehhh, dry skin. Our proverbial Titantic Iceberg...but we had no idea at the time...we figured dry skin. The SWI told us "a lot of the kids" had had this start happening, about the time that the weather started changing. We did lotions etc. Her limbs were as we expected...except it was the wrong leg. And she had some thin spots in her scalp. One was under her pony tail, which seemed to have never been removed, so we got that. Or so we thought.

December to Late May
Shortly after we came home, she started the Great Doctor Tour. Ahhh, eczema, glasses for the bad vision we found in Guangzhou. Oh, a slight lazy eye, no problem, prisms in the lenses of the glasses.

Then we went in to see the orthopaedic. Yeah, one leg shorter, one arm shorter. Not neurological. Oh, and she has scoliosis. And a dislocated elbow. And her one finger is shorter. And about 3 little other quirks of a skeletal nature. Genetics are thrown in there. Ok...research. Dr never calls back. We "fire" her in March, go see a specialist and he says no genetics, probably environmental, and no big deal, surgery when she's 14 ish, dont' touch the dislocated elbow, she's fine.

The eczema doesn't go away. We see a dermatologist. He says ichtyosis, gives a cream. It works, we move on. Ok, a small bump in the road, seriously, this is it?! No issues. I even looked at a file for a boy waiting for adoption with ichtyosis because this was so not an issue...

I *think* I see a mark on my daughter's sternum. Could it be a scar? No...they wouldn't hide that...I keep looking at it. It's so light, I think I'm crazy.

Big Girl starts to aquire language...rapidly. Crazy rapidly. She settles in, starts to go to school in January, becomes part of our family rather quickly. She just...does. She acts very juevinile. She has NO logic. No "common sense". Was never ever taught anything but rote memorization. And she's damn good at that. She becomes a clinging shadow, and we work thru that. She gives love freely and openly. Her transistion to being our daughter only has one rough patch, when sister has her birthday and the jealousy is just too much for this little one to bear. It's what finally pushes her over the edge for a week, but she sulks, and keeps the acting out to minor harrassments and mayhem. All in all, we're overjoyed at how easy this has been. I had a rough time about 3 months home, being the go between for language, etc etc...everything is very time consuming...every bit of homework has to be handheld, everything explained in 2 languages, teaching her all those things like how to shower properly, wipe properly, brush her teeth properly (which none of these things were taught!) etc that we thought we wouldn't have to teach her. But, again, hey, we do it and move on.

Late May
Something happens. We don't know what. Big Girl ends up in convenient care with an all over body rash. We get antibiotics, ointments, follow up appts.
And they keep coming. And so does the condition. And the ichtyosis gets horrible. And everything gets horrible. And it doesn't get better. We start going to the Drs almost daily. No one knows what is going on. We start doing 3-5 Dr appts a week. We start to climb up the Doctor chain. Life becomes Dr appts. We do light treatments and more potions.

We finally, late July, get to a wonderful Dr at Children's Memorial. She takes one look at my daughter and says "wow, your daughter is quite an interesting case." You never ever want to hear that about your kid.

We got thru cycles. We get it under control, and then it flares again. We go around and around. I have a BOX of creams and lotions. Some help, most don't, some set us 10 steps back. The kid takes nightly bleach baths. She is a puzzle of cream application. Any trauma to her skin can set off a chain reaction. The daily maintenance of her skin becomes a huge task.

The wonderful Dr comes back with a name...Conradi-Hunermann. Look it up. There's not a lot of info. We're on the cutting edge of rare disorders. And she's atypical Conradi for some reason. That we still don't know - the how and the why. The interesting thing about Conradi? The ichtyosis comes in patterns...when she's flared, her chest looks like the patterns of a butterfly wing. Think about that - a rash type condition that is symmetrical across the two halves of a body. That line I saw? The kid's midline stays clear no matter what.

Limb differences, alopecia of the scalp, ichtyosis...main indicators of Conradi...

And what did we find yesterday? She has the most common of other indicators of Conradi...cataracts, in both eyes. And strasbismus. And Ambloypa (I know I don't have that spelled right)...and we don't know if we can correct those at this advanced age either...the cataracts will grow at some rate, and she will need those removed.

The Moral Of The Story
There is no way that the SWI didn't know about this. She says she never had it like this in China, but she talks of her foster mother scrubbing the ichtyosis off her skin. Chances are she presented quite obviously in her first years of life. Chances are almost absolutely that China did know some of this...that it was purposefully left out of her file.

And when I started asking those questions of my contact in China, she disappeared. She won't answer emails. That speaks volumes to me...

We're lucky. we have damn good insurance. I don't work that much outside the home. This is hard. I worry constantly. I fear the next Drs appt. Thankfully this kid is as easy going as they come...she takes this with style and grace and does what we need willingly. She whines about another Dr, but from what we could have, who knows. I know she'll tire of her eye patching...but, for an almost-10 year old, I'm thankful she works with me so well on this. My Peanut is insanely jealous. She hates when Mamam leaves with Big Sister for another appt, she misses the extra time we had with each of them.

I would not change this for a kid that came as she presented in her file. I accept all these challenges willingly vs the potential behavior issues I've seen with many older adoptees. Especially with a little one in the house, omg, she's been wonderful with her. I'm grieving right now. I am mad at myself...what did I miss? What Dr should I have consulted? Why didn't someone catch this? Why couldn't we stop this bus of trauma from hitting her these last 3 months? Why did China hide this? I'm trying to focus on the good, that this doesn't preclude a "normal" life for her...but right now, I'm just tired. Tired from having to fight stupid Drs, cut lots of the "fun" out of life, tired of wondering *why, why, why*??

And the worst part is that I'm scared of wondering "What's next?"

This, my dear friends, is what can happen, and does happen. More than anyone wants to let you know. If you are ok with this, this worst case, or worse, then adopt SN. I would still, again, do it, one more time. But everyone should realize that it can turn out like this, even when the Doctors give you the big grin, the big thumbs up and say "no worries" over and over and over again. If we didn't have the resources: the really good insurance, the HSA account, the red headed stubborness, or the schedules that we can adapt to this schedule, our family would be in crisis right now. Absolutely. And that we are not... I am trying to be thankful for that every moment right now.

When I Get Mad at Well-Intentioned People...

2011-07-14T22:45:00.002-05:00

When we first got mired down in the lengthening crushing wait that China NSN became...back when we were waiting for Peanut...at one time we asked our crappy agency about SN adoptions. Mind you, back in 2006, these were so very much not the norm in China adoptions. After being treated like line-jumpers, we were advised "If you want to do this, just get a cleft lip and palate baby...one easy surgery, maybe two, and you are done."

How wrong these mis-guided people were...9 out of 10 times...

As the line grew longer, and moved slower, more and more people began advocating for SN kids as the SN program grew rapidly hand over fist in size vs. the NSN program. I'm all for that SN program growing, though I'm not all for it in the manner that it occurred, at the expense of the NSN program. Every kid deserves a home of course.

What I'm not ok with is with many degrees of the advocacy. I've seen some great advocators out there...don't get me wrong. I've seen people who have kids who have x y and z condition, and they go out there, post links, tell their stories, tell the good and the bad, the realistic, and the truth. And I commend them for using the internet and their time to do so. It helps people so much. I try to be this kind of person, someome who people can email and say "Hey, I read about Big Girl...can you tell me about this?!"

What I'm not ok with is the "It's Just" mentality. That's usually coupled with the "(s)he is so cute! Look at that dimple, SOMEONE has got to scoop him up" mentality.

Here's the thing...kids themselves aren't NSN. Sorry. They aren't. All kids, or 9,999,999 out of 10,000,000 of them will always be their own kind of mother-traumatizing ball of energy somehow...broken bones, or speech delays, curved spines, bad vision, rare genetic disorders etc etc etc

But I see these people say "It's JUST Cleft Palate." "It's JUST a missing hand." "It's JUST Hep B."

Here's the thing...you can't promise that. You just can't. Cause guess what...a lot of times there's moderate (or bigger) issues that are never placed in these kids' files. Period. And even the declared SNs...you can NEVER say "It's Just..." until that child is here and diagnosed and dissected and reviewed. And even then, another Dr will come and say "nope that one is wrong"...and sometimes that diagnosis is better, sometimes it is worse. There's misdiagnosed conditions. There's that dreaded "s" word: Syndrome. There's non-disclosed information. It's the dirty little secret of the adoption community...it'll all be ok with just love, we the people promise...

NO ONE should go out there and say "it's just". Gawd yes, you will love your child nonetheless, but one has to go fully into this saying "I'm ok if it isn't just..." and not just paying lip service to that discussion. Too much of this advocating is falling into the "Cute Puppy" arena these days, and it makes me nervous. Very nervous.

Should these kids be available for adoption? Hell Yes. Should people educated in the SNs that this child is supposedly presenting be free to advocate for these children? Damn straight, and I welcome it with open arms... Should people who see a cute pic on a website run around the internet squealing: "We can't afford one more, but if we could, this one would be it! Someone adopt him/her cause she's wearing the cutest little dress!" Ummmmm...no. And on the flip side, people shouldn't be taking "IHeartChina7932" and "somebody28"'s word that this is "just no big deal."

Prepare for the worst, hope for the best, and store up buckets of education and love to share when you decide to walk down that path...

I Screwed Up...

2011-06-21T22:48:00.004-05:00

A few days ago, my mom came over and watched the girls while we got some work done around the house. She brought pork chops with her, and asked if husband would bbq them for dinner for all of us. Sure. All is good.

Big Girl likes fat. It's a delicacy in China. When we had country ribs, she picked the fat off my plate and smacked her lips as she ate it. Gives me the heebies, but, hey, that's ok. Now, I do want to temper it, cause it's not the healthiest habit, and she's eating a LOT more meat than she ever had in China. Anyways, she tried to scam everyone's fat from the edge of the chops...my mom instantly, in her tactful, kind hearted way kinda squealed "Ewwww...you don't eat THAT...at least here you don't."

I should have let Big Girl have my fat. Just mine. But I didn't. I was tired from working all day, and I hopped on the bandwagon. "No, Babe, not tonight, it's not good for you." "But it's yummmm." "It's not good for your heart." She was disappointed.

I'm mad at myself. I want to teach the girls moderation - something I wasn't taught as a kid. My mom was the kind that would not allow herself any chocolate for a month, then take down a whole bag of M&Ms in a day and a half because she had deprived herself. Like, it's ok to have a piece of chocolate. Not ok to take down a bag of them. It's ok to have a glass of wine or two...not ok to routinely take down a case of beer by yourself. etc etc etc

And I'm mad at myself for a bigger reason too...this is how she was raised. This is what her tastes and inclinations have been formed as...and who am I to say "no...ick."???

And this goes to a bigger issue I'm seeing more and more as older kids are being adopted more and more...this belief that we should make them conform to our desires, mores, and wants. I've seen things on blogs that turn my stomach...a man who shattered an amulet from a beloved caretaker in China (no, throwing it out wasn't good enough even) because it wasn't part of his religion...people talking smack about the horrible country these kids come from, people changing habits that don't need to be changed asap, to suit the family's life asap.

Here's the thing about adopting older: I see too often posts on boards that go like this:
My husband and I believe in (insert here - religion, non religion, vegetarianism, the world is flat, that vampires exist...whatever) and we want to adopt an older kid, but husband is worried that the kid won't take to our weekly honoring of the Eggplant God in our Family Room.

See, this is reversed messed up thinking...

WE, as prospective parents, have to be preparing ourselves now for how we'll cope with the kid not wanting to give up their fat, or not go to church or being a die-hard Communist. We have to prepare to change...not figure out how to change their minds!
If you are religious, realize your kid may not believe what you believe. In fact, these kids may have been raised in another religion and be devout. I should have taught Big Girl about moderation with the fat, instead of forbidding it. Or if your kid loves to shower at night instead of the morning, then, what's the harm? Or what if your kid has no interest in a college education, but wants to be an electrician...even though 4 generations of your family has become doctors. Or...what if you are a devout pacifist, and your new child aspires to join the military? It may not be how you would do it. But that's not the point...

Ask YOURSELF instead: How will I feel if she insists on eating meat that's been slaughtered against my wishes. How will I feel if she doesn't take on my religious beliefs. What is she takes on a different religions beliefs? How will I feel if she thinks Communism is The Bomb? How will I accomodate HER? How will I not strip her of all the things that she feels makes up who she is?

You may not want the little palm sized Buddha, or the amulet from the caretaker...but your kid might. It might mean something non-religious to them...just a small piece of the life they are leaving for us. You may not want to eat fat...and they probably don't want a twinkie either, cause let's face it, if you weren't raised with them, they are gross. Would it have hurt for her to eat a few pieces of fat? No. Would a child bringing an amulet, a certain ratty toy from the SWI, or a little religious statue hurt your home? No. Can you explain why YOU believe in vegetarianism, atheism, Model T Car Sacrifices on the Full Moon? Of course...that's being a parent. (And of course, when issues of safety or laws etc come into play, that's a different situation that I'm not tackling here...)

Being an "adoptive" parent just means that you may not like the response you get when the child gives their opinion on your opinion re the topic at hand at that moment. And you have to be ok with that. A vegetarian may have to produce grilled chicken breasts for the kids, a Christian may have to allow a small statue of a non-Western religious figure because that brings comfort to the child, for religious or social memories and love. A staunch Right-Wing Conservative might have a kid that wants to become a supporter of socialism in the US. A picky eater may have a child that needs them to go get 4 different hot sauces and rather eat dofu, spicy noodles and eel than mac n cheese. Morning people may get a kid that just can't move more than snail speed in the morning for the first hour. A family of pacifists might get an aspiring army officer.

Cause these kids come as a package deal...they have likes, dislikes, hatred, and loves. They have histories, and cultural norms embedded in their brains.

If you want to adopt older, be willing to learn to live with a child that very well might not emulate your thought process on many subjects. Learn to embrace that new different thought process embedded in that little body and appreciate seeing a different viewpoint of the world around you...and anticipate learning to appreciate what they deem important, even if you don't.

Bad, Bad Language...

2011-05-12T09:27:00.000-05:00

I've got a lawyer in my oldest daughter. I can see it now. She lawyers who has the best cup for juice and why, she lawyers why what Peanut said about her doll getting married is wrong, because OBVIOUSLY the doll can't marry the teddy, cause it married the giraffe the Tuesday before last, etc etc etc...she negotiates everything, analyzes everything...

We've had lots of "glimmer discussions" lately...things in China, histories, events, timelines etc etc etc. And that's cool. Sideswipes me out of nowhere, but I *think* I've been holding my own. Even though she discusses the symantics of every bit of the discussion...

Of course I have to figure out what she's talking about...she's like Peanut in that she doesn't set up her story/discussion first. And we do have a small language barrier still. And *gasp* she doesn't know her *proper* adoption language.

Bad, bad, bad adoptee!

She swiped me while I was making oatmeal about a week and a half ago: "My real parents no keep me. I no know them."

Gasp - I'm not the "real" mom. Gasp - I'm not "mom". So many of my original agencies Social Workers from Hell would be rolling over in their grave right now.

"My mom take me to the little ocean to swim this summer" (That threw me - I thought she was asking - she was talking about her foster mom.

But, I'm not a go with the norm kinda girl as it is, and the more I thought about it, I don't care. I did give her words - foster mom has been offered up as China mom (which, considering she has 2 China moms didn't rub well with me, just for clarity), and she's gravitated towards "foster mom." That's great with me - it's clear and concise. I gave her the words "birth mom", she sometimes uses it, sometimes no. Which is ok. If she thinks she's her "real" mom, so be it. Her choice. She doesn't have the vocabulary to use it otherwise yet, but if that's how she thinks about it, that's gonna have to be ok. She doesn't seem to long for them - I think more she is thinking about her abandonment, but we'll get there.

So I started thinking about my names...Mom, Mama, Maaaaaaammmmmmyyyy, and what the rest of the adoption world calls me: "AP...adoptive mom".

I don't like it. We rail against people calling our kids "our adopted kids." So why am I her "adopted mom"? Why do we so much identify ourselves as such?

No doubt, we are different critters, we face different hurdles with our kids than bio kids...most of the time. There are RAD kids and PTSD kids that are living with their birth parents. There are ones that have ODD or sensory issues or Autism. There are ones that couldn't be with their babies the first x months of their lives as they struggled in incubators, or the parents could not be there to parent for whatever reasons. There are "APs" that have perfectly well adjusted babies and kids who have no issues. I don't go out to the world and say "I'm a Limb Difference Mom". So why am I an AP?

What Big Girl calls me is between her and herself. But, to the rest of the world, I'm "mama" to my girls. Period. I refuse to quantify my mother-ness (as saint or as second best) to the rest of the world.

Could You Be My Parent?!

2011-04-05T13:57:00.002-05:00

This boy...who turns 9 this month, who always has a smile on his face, who can be a little agitator, who also can be the most caring little boy, who has been an orphan his whole life, who has been on the list for almost 3 years...needs a home. Is it yours? He has been on THREE agencies special focus/camp lists...he was Nathan with MAA. He was Ryder with FTIA. Now he's a dehumanizing number with Hand in Hand. This child should be GAINING a family name...not being given random Western names to be called with a paragraph blurb next to an outdated photo.

This little boy NEEDS a home.

He's also my daughter's foster brother. He's been in a loving home for over 5 years. Nothing is guaranteed, but I can tell you, Big Girl has had one of the smoothest transitions (SO FAR! KNOCK ON WOOD!!!) that I have ever heard of in older child adoption. They were/are loved by the foster parents, the foster parents' older kids, and the extended foster family.

This little boy NEEDS a home.

I have more info on him. More pics, more video. I have more up to date stuff than that file that is 2 years out of date that CCAA has published of him. I have not met him, but I can speak of my impressions of the 20 minutes long video we have shot in the foster family's home. He has repaired cleft lip and palate. My daughter says he speaks clearly, but he will need dental work. She said he would learn quick when the foster mother told her to help him with his homework.

This little boy NEEDS a home.

Please, contact me...contact Hand in Hand...if he pulls at your heart, do something to give this boy a family.

Gimme, gimme, gimme...

2011-04-01T18:18:00.003-05:00

Big Girl has had a rough week or two of it. You see, it's been Peanut's birthday, recently. Grandparents have flown in (not that they would have flown in to meet their new granddaughter or anything just cause of that big reason, but I digress), there's been singing, cakes, candles...and gifts. Oh yes, those lucious, tasty, tempting, wrapped-in-goodness presents.

Big Girl likes to tally. I got 4 shorts, sister got 5. I got 3 crackers, sister got 2. She wants to know the score. Always. And we've had lots of tears, lectures, hissy fits (on both sides) etc over it. And I refuse to play a dead man's game...cause I won't win.

She finally did something vindictive towards Peanut. I knew it would come someday, but I didn't expect it this way...Peanut got an extra balloon (gasp! the horror!) from a certain tolerable burger chain with a large red avian as it's mascot. Peanut even shared her ice cream sundae with Big Girl. But that fact wasn't remembered. A few days later, as the boredom of a spring break under grueling conditions of Peanut-illness and cold damp weather set in, the girls decided (well, Big Girl decided and roped the little on into it) to pop a balloon. They couldn't get those buggers to pop. I stayed out of it beyond telling them that once they are gone, they are gone. Finally I hear Big Girl grunt in disgust, so I tell her to bring her balloon to me and I'll get rid of it if she doesn't want it. (I was in the kitchen paying bills). She brings it to me, I take a scissors and pop...gone.

Then the screaming starts. From Peanut. "I MISS MY GREEEN BALLOON". I didn't even look...Big Girl had handed me Peanut's 2nd balloon. Not the red one. Red is Peanut's favorite. She knew better. But blue/green/mom's busy...yup, she screwed me. And I didn't think. I admit it. And I apologized profusely to Peanut...and also pointed out to her she was walking around with a shoe on to help pop said balloons.

I asked Big Girl why she gave me Peanut's balloon. The tears started. I asked her why again. "I dunno." I asked again. "She have 2 balloons."

Needless to say, I was mad. We went over again that they both get all the love we can give, but I WILL NOT tally stuff. Items will be replaced with values, with size, with something. I cannot win. So I will not play.

She also likes to "help" sister with all her new presents. If Peanut offers them of her own free will, that's great. But I am not allowing "helpful coercion" because poor Peanut has not been given ample time to play many times with anything...even so far as being called "always annoying" when she wanted to play with her sister with one of her new toys.

It's something she has to work thru. We know that. But this is where we are at now. We're climbing the learning curve...quickly, and with grappling hooks.

I Only Share Because You Don't Know Me...

2011-03-06T22:41:00.002-06:00

Scene: I'm in the bathroom, just out of the shower, pj pants on, no shirt, drying my hair. I hear the clomping, giggling, squeals of overtired littles coming up the stairs...hoping that they head to get pjs on instead of breaking my blissful quiet time. No such luck...

Big Girl comes in, courtesy visit and leaves. Whew.

Peanut comes in...kindly says "I wanted to say 'Hi'". Ok, cool, I lean over, kiss her, and as I back up, this discussion unfolds. Mind you, I don't have huge boobs, 'kay?

Peanut: Why do you have big (scrunch up left eye)...what are those things called again?
Me: Breasts.
P: Ok, thanks...sigh...why do you have such big breasts, mommy?
M: Because I'm a girl.
P: I'm a girl.
M: Correction: I'm a BIG girl...when you grow up, you'll have breasts too.
Peanut affects the most serious face she's ever had on, between passing a kidney stone, doing taxes, and discussing current world policy re government aid to NGOs.
P: (Deadpan) Oh my goodness... Really?

At this point, I busted a gut laughing to the point that all creatures with a heartbeat ended up in the bathroom to see what was going on.

Just as I gain my composure, overheard in the hallway:
P: , you are a girl.
BG: Yeah (I hear the eyeroll in her voice), I girl. I know.
P: When you grow up you'll have breasts.
BG: All girls when big, I know. Everyone who girl get them.
P: No, mama is going to give them to you.

The Sorta-Hard Questions...

2011-02-20T23:02:00.002-06:00

Big Girl has been tossing me curve balls left and right lately. I'm shocked. We've gone from basic discussions of "what's that" or "why" when we do normal life things, to these great philisophical discussions. Thank Gawd she's the mellow one, otherwise, we'd be all over the drama here, more than Peanut's normal background noise of Diva going on.

This is where missing 6 age years of parenting is catching up with me...and the fact that Peanut, though she knows/remembers everything told to her, could care less. We've never had baby-in-belly discussions, even though my SIL hatched this week, and Peanut has had tons of photos of the baby sent to her, and seen Auntie on skype AND preschool teacher is very pregnant now too. We've never had "where is my Mom" discussions. None of it. Not from our lack of trying, for lack of a better word...Peanut knows her story. She's exposed to the words, the books, the ideas. She will tell you that she is from China, that we adopted her, that she lived in Hunan, and she needed a mama and a dada. She'll tell you that we came when she was 10 months old and brought her home to be our baby. She knows her "story", and can do more than just recite it. Of course, she doesn't understand the true implications of what all these words mean, but she's got the gist of it. And she was in China with us getting Big Girl, so she's seen it. She's seen sobbing babies at the hotel mad because they are in shock, confused etc too...

But the one thing my Peanut is NOT drama on is her story. When a kid asks who I am, she says "my mom" and the kid will look perplexed and ask "are you sure, she doesn't look like you" and Peanut will say: I'm Chinese. I look Chinese. She's my mom. She's not Chinese.
Bam, she moves on. It is what it is to this kid and nothing more, nothing less.

Big Girl, my laid back girl, asks questions that are indicative of the depth of her intelligence, and of her awareness of her unique situation. The first one she asked, about two weeks ago was when she was getting out of the shower..."Mama, you no babies, why?" So we talked about my endo in terms she could understand, and that I don't care where my babies come from, I love her and Peanut because they are my kids no matter what. She was easily satisfied.

Then last week, she asked me "I am sorta like hummm, this, brown. You no brown, you are like white. Why?" To which I answered "Chinese are like you. I am like pale French and German people." To which she answered "Where you born in? Deguo?" So we talked about how there is what your family gives to you, that she will always be Chinese and I will always be French and German, but we are both Americans, I was born here, but I am these things that were given to me by my family...she is an immigrant, but nothing can take away the Chinese in her. We discussed the Vietnamese and African girls in her class too. And that everyone is how they should be, no better, no worse.

Can I say these are damn hard discussions to have partially in Mandarin, even though her English seems to be coming even faster than the crazy fast it was even a month ago?

We've had discussions on Martin Luther King...and helping people...and personal space...and why I chose P to marry...and on and on and on.

Today, she hit me with another one, I think - well, I know - because we celebrated Peanut's 3rd whatever-you-want-to-call-it-so-the-least-amount-of-people-will-get-offended day. She asked if I knew what she looked like as a baby. This one hit me hard. Because I have no idea. They didn't give us her HTS memory book. I'm trying to get it. The earliest pic I have of her, she is 3-4 years old. I was honest with her and said no...I do not. And I would try to get them. She shrugged and said it was ok. We finished drying her hair, then I showed her the Big Girl box I'm putting together...all her paperwork, copies of everything etc. She read every document from CCAA. She read her finding ad. She said thank you for showing her her things. And hugged me.

That's the first time she's shown any interest in her past. And the kid who will play with the toddlers happily...the one who acts no where like a 9 year old...she acted like a 35 year old, processing the data, the information, the lack of information, like few adults can. Better than I could. And she gave me an extra hug and kiss tonight, and told me "I like you a lot mama...very much a lot."

I must be doing something right...

The Anxiety Conundrum...

2011-01-23T23:09:00.002-06:00

I'm going to go off topic for a bit today...

Here's where we stand in our family:
Husband is coming up on 40 (not quite yet)...he originally told me when we talked #2 that 40 was his cutoff. Done. Over. Don't raise the "a" word again after that. I'm 18 months behind him but age is just a stupid number to me.

We have Peanut who is 3.5 and Big Girl who is 9. Peanut is high maintenance...I don't deny it. So far Big Girl has been here 7 weeks, and seems to be a pretty laid back kid. Both are wickedly smart. Big girl does have some SWI behaviors and such (ignore the fact that mom is upset there is chili on her linen drape and maybe it'll go away) but has gone better than we have ever hoped so far. Peanut is to smart for her own good - let's just leave it at that for the behavior department.

We don't ever want to do a child under 3 again. No way no how. Babies hold no charm for us.

I think I want one more child. Husband, not so much. I think I want a boy...I'd take either if husband was happy with that pursuit.

We know Big Girl needs at least 9 months, at least a year home probably as the new kid.

Big Girl told me she wants a big brother...not gonna happen. Big Girl is Big Girl - she will stay the oldest. I think Peanut would do best being the youngest. And there's a nice age gap where you can settle a kidlet in the middle.

We're still waiting for Taiwan. Why...I dunno. Because, well, how the hell do you stop? You've invested time/money/heart into it to have them up and stop on you...find out this program was borderline on ethics...live another 14 months with next to no info...but... what if? And...I'm damn pigheaded - I don't give up. I dig my heels in. I was raised to see things to an end, whatever that end may be. I'm redheaded, stubborn and I don't do well with ambiguity.

What if...what if...what if...

Everything is expired - immigration, Home Studies etc...so we have to admit that we're basically almost totally back at a square one anyways.

Do we now also submit a birth parent letter for another program that would allow us access to other older kid's files? Let the treadmill keep going until a file comes across our hands and we have to choose - yes or no? Make circumstances back us into a wall to make the final decision?

Or do we stop. Do we get off the gerbil wheel of this pretty much/probably doomed program? Do we just say enough-is-enough? Start over with China when and if both of us are back on board completely? See....to me, husband won't say that...ever. And I won't "convince" him it's time cause I don't believe in that...but could he see a file offered and change his mind? Yeah, I could see him doing that.

But there's an emotional toll that adopting plays on you. We've been on this wheel for basically 6 years now. We started Peanut's adoption in early 2005. She came home 3 years later. (eeep!). We only waited about 4 months to start Taiwan because we know how much it sucks to adopt internationally these days. Then we changed course and pursued Big Girl in 12/09. That's a long time to be treading time. And chances are the Taiwan program will be/is a bust. Maybe an older kid would come along, probably not...and I would LOVE to not have to rot another week in Guangzhou ever again...and the trip is a week...lots of things that if we did beat those lotto-like odds that would be nice...

But do we just say "we give up". Do we put it behind us to give us peace? Will it give us peace? Or will it be a fearful panic attack as you drop the letter in the box but then feel an explosion of serenity? Or would we be clawing at the mailbox to get the letter back? To send that letter...to stop the wheel spinning...doesn't that admit that you are willing to turn your back on "just maybe"?

The importance of 13 Stuffed Animals...

2011-01-18T10:32:00.003-06:00

Big Girl is starting to get indignant. In moments...here and there, randomly, with no rhyme or reason. The other day she came into Peanut's room as I helped Peanut make her bed. Big Girl wandered around the room and in the end tallied up Peanut's stuffies. Good counting I thought. Then she went to her room. She tallied her stuffies. Good English there too, I thought and told her so. Then more English came out "Why 13 friends?" Huh? I dunno...most were gifts. "I no 13 friends."

Ahhhhhh....

Well, you have 6 friends. And they are nice friends. And a beautiful Big Girl doll that you got for Christmas...

A few days later..."why you blankies?"...because when she was a baby those are what we used in her crib." "Why now?!" Because she feels good holding a certain kind of them." "I get blankies..." Ok, I'll get one for your room, are you cold? Or do you want one for watching TV? "Room". OK...will do - purple, white or green?

No. No one blankie. 10 blankies.

No - you don't need 10 blankies. Let's get one, and if you use it, I'll get you another.

20 blankies.

OK, now I'm a bit miffed.

I get it, I get she wants what she feels she didn't have. Totally. And she will get those things...she does get those things - if she needs them or can use them.

But we also have to deal with the fact that we're getting a little...errrr...grubby. You see, even Peanut never had 20 blankets. Now, whatever she perceives she should have too, she ups it by a factor of 2. Peanut has 4? I have 2? I need 8... THAT my friends, is unacceptable. We do not buy to buy. That is a bad lesson if you've been here 10 years, or 10 days.

And how I've quickly decided this house will run is that "fair" does NOT equal "equal." Yes, Peanut has a ton of stuffed animals. Got it. She's 3.5. That's her thing. YOU got a $100 Karito Kid doll. Yes, Peanut has more jeans than you...she is 3.5 and spills more. You have more sweaters because you go to go school and play outside. "Fair" is that we take care of both girls, give them both what they needs physically, emotionally, and support-wise. "Fair" isn't two equal piles of crap stacked up and tallied in a spreadsheet.

It's a hard lesson to learn for everyone. And we're walking the fine line of giving a little more at times for that emotional need Big Girl has, even when things aren't needed. And not crossing it into, for lack of a better word, decadence. She wanted a pink room last week, like sister's. Ummm....no. Sister has pink, you have purple. Mama bought you beautiful sheets and comforters. I will NOT cast them aside so you can match sister. You want a girly girly pillow for your bed, I'm all over that.

And I've been a bit cautious compared to what I think I would normally do -the trip to Gymboree ended up, almost accidentally, one for one girl for girl...yet Big Girl got miffed that Peanut had a few more pair of underwear. Welllll...when your undies fit great and Peanuts are getting a bit tight, she gets more. That's what she needs. We got you one pair because we knew you'd like the strawberries on them, though you didn't need them. That sister got 3 pair, well, that's what happened.

Tough lesson, and one some would argue I shouldn't teach yet...but it's gonna be harder to learn if we don't do it now. And Peanut is learning the same thing...you can't get what the Big Sister has many times...you can't have scissors like Big Girl cause you aren't old enough.

I refuse to count out my kisses, time, or the hugs, or the crackers. I see a momentary glint of something in your eyes, you get a hug and a kiss and a stroke on the cheek. I will not tally and count these things either. I will dole them out with abandon, the one that needs, takes, until they don't need anymore.

The old adage...life isn't fair. And especially Big Girl is aware of it. It's a hard lesson for littles, but it is their lives - their pasts have stamped that lesson in their schoolbook of life early. I can't...I won't...make up for it in some ways. In other ways...in the important ways...we will not only make up for it, we have vowed to compensate to the nth degree. And that's what is more important than anything.

The realities of saying no...

2011-01-03T16:15:00.004-06:00

I rarely make sense to myself. I'm the first one to admit that, so remember this as I roll the garbage out of my head onto the computer screen...

I Do Not believe it fate...I do not believe in The Child that was Meant To Be Yours. I think that's a lot of crap that gives some people solace that they are waiting in a ridiculous line for what, sadly, may be a pipe dream due to China's opaque policies and planning. I truly believe that you love the child you are given. Could you take Peanut from me now? Only if you pry her out of my dead and decomposed hands, of course. Would have have elected to take three years of my life hoping and praying for her, not knowing her? No. I would have loved the child that was handed to us a year earlier in the wait, or a year later. And I truly believe that. The "they do this" or "they laugh at Chevy Chase just like us" is a product of being raised in our households. And.. that we learn to love whatever is possible to love in our children because of them being our children.

With that being said, I also truly believe in people truly planning out adoption and really admitting to what they can handle. I believe in people having the funds for it (and yes, we held off an adoption and got closed out of a program when my husband lost his job...so I do walk the walk.) and I believe that people should research all the aspects of SN (and all adoptions) before they leap for a cute picture with a warm smile. I personally believe that is responsible. And honestly, I don't want to debate it, cause, well, everyone has their viewpoint, and it's not one that's going to change. I have friends who have acted contrary to the principals that I hold for myself, and I've supported them all the way, cause as you know, that's how I roll - it's my life...and it's your life.

So one month to the day after we met Big Girl, we got an email, from our Taiwan agency. The one that a year later still supposedly will have a viable program soon. We have fought tooth and nail to have them redefine the child we are looking for, and their awesome Inter-Country director did do this. I never thought we'd hear from them though. Not in a million years. The title of the email was "our last name: 5 year old girl file for your review."

After I picked my teeth up off the floor after they fell out when the jaw bone cracked on the tile...I just stared at it for a minute. Really?! And the heart racing. The sweaty palms...the whole bit. And I clicked, opened and read it.

I read it to husband. He just rolled his eyes at me and said "Do you really want another one?!"

Yeah...I think I do. There went another tooth on the tile...

But she was not it. She was listed as having developmental delays due to severe neglect at a young age. We cannot take on those kinds of issues. Just as we couldn't take on the issues of the other 3 files we looked at before Big Girl...no matter how desperate that we felt to find our daughter a year ago. Sooo...within 20 minutes I had sent an email that said "no, I'm sorry, we cannot do that" and then again outlined the SNs we do feel comfortable with. Seems easy and done with, right?!

It jerked something inside of me...the possibilities. The future. The analyzing. The processing...cause no matter how much you see advocacy threads etc, to get a file offered to your family...all you have to do is say "yes" is a much different feeling. And, my thought is you love the child you get, right?

But it's not a matter of love. It's a matter of ability. And we weren't able, no matter how good Big Girl's adjustment is going, to take this on. And regardless of Big Girl...husband and I cannot take it on. We are not emotionally in the place to start this all over again. Cause there's sometimes living, and sometimes survival. I don't want us to just be surviving.

The simple fact is that adoptive parents don't play by the rules of bio parents. We can choose to embrace or reject a child who needs a home. And for us...for her...this was the thing to do. We can't be the best parents to her. We can't be to anyone right now until we get Big Girl settled in - and Peanut adjusted. And that has to come first. Would I have grown to love that little girl in the email? No doubt. But I had the luxury of making that choice...of not risking having to put my family in crisis. Adoption isn't birth and vice versa. And the quicker we all admit to the inequities and stop trying to make these processes as much the same as possible, the better.

I'm wistful for what might have been. Hopeful for what might be the future. And assured in my moments of clarity that I used the right organ in my body to decide what was best for everyone...for right now.

Living with a Stranger You Love...

2010-12-28T20:00:00.003-06:00

There's a reality of older child adoption that nothing can prepare you for: no matter how good placement and adjustment go, no matter how much you fiercely-to-the-death would protect this human, no matter how much you have dreamed about the laughter of two little girls under the Christmas tree...you end up living with a complete stranger in your home. It sounds harsh to call a child that, but they are. A living breathing being who you have no idea how to anticipate anything out of...

Our daughter has done amazingly well. We still worry (cause that's what I do best, right?!) that it's too good. But I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get there, if we get there. We thankfully (isn't that sick) got our first tears the day of Christmas, the day after I got my first kisses...good to see her not being so glib with everything for a change.

But, and I think I feel this magnified with H running around right on A's heels and my unending awareness that A was 6 when H was born...and a little over 6.5 when H was adopted...the awareness that you HAVE to treat the children the same, but they are worlds apart - not only in personality but also in familiarity. The whole "fake it till you make it" thing is totally different when the being that is looking back at you can read you - your face, your body posture, your reactions. You have to be as free loving and strict and silly and serious with the new child as you are with the one who you know down to the cellular level. Which for an over-contemplating, introspective human like me is something that does not come as second nature.

I admit it: It feels really really surreal to kiss a child you don't know and have them stare blankly back at you. You feel presumptious, yet you feel the bud of love in your heart. And you know that no matter the knowledge that it will open and bloom soon, there is no way you can say you really really love the child. You realize how much you don't know that child...at. all.

It's much more akin to learning to live with a spouse...the first morning home, downstairs having a cup of tea - you hear a light bump upstairs...you instantly jump, thinking your child fell out of bed. But it's in a part of the ceiling where she isn't sleeping, because it's not the child that you are used to listening for...this one...will she be up at 4a, or 9a, or will you have to force her to get up? These little things are NOTHING that are of consequence in the scheme of becoming a family in and of themselves, but they add up to a huge lack of knowledge that is EVERYTHING that is standing between the newness changing to the absolute certainty in the feeling of being a family.

Learning the way to get them to calm down and focus, how they like their eggs cooked, that they are more up for practicing English reading in the early morning hours...how to make them feel comfortable at the 18th Drs office visit...that hot chocolate is good, but chocolate cake is too sweet...and carrots are even better...learning that they have great language skills but were never taught critical problem solving...learning that they will pop their own baby teeth out without a blink, but tell them that you don't like people in your face 3 inches away 24/7 and the hurt will flash in a second across their face...learning that they like robots and dolls and pink and RC cars and sparkly clothes...but not anything in their hair other than a band...doing an odd dance of courtship of a being that comes up to your armpit.

Seeing them open up and tell a story about how they used to pick mushrooms in China. Seeing that they desperately want the snuggles and hugs they have never had and act like they don't need and then the next day coming and climbing in your lap after some milestone was reached in their hearts. Seeing them peek in your room and then sneak quietly downstairs cause they know you didn't feel good the night before. Seeing the pride of receiving parental approval when they master a set of English words. Hearing her admit that she would like the picture of her foster mother you offered - letting that shield down to her heart. Laughing at when she takes a Happy Meal box and sticks it on her head to make you smile after a bad conference call with work.

All those things...and a thousand million others...THAT is what makes this stranger slowly and steadily into the child of your dreams. And when the child is 9, you can count those things so much more clearly one by one as they tick by - when you can see them open up and blossom by being able to share the people they were before, when they want you to be part of their whole lives - those lives that were before - their preferences, their memories, their story. Cause this time around, it's much much more about them accepting you into the story that is their life.

A few weeks...

2010-11-02T23:26:00.002-05:00

A few weeks, and I'll be called "mama" by 2 little girls. Hopefully. Unless Big Girl is actually really pissed off that we keep our promise and show up. Who knows? I can only hope and see what is to come. It'll be a whole new world that I thought was years off, that's all I know for sure. And one I actually feel at peace with. Somehow I know in my bones this is right. Even as I fume over the further bad crap coming out of our on-hold Taiwan program, I know that adopting Big Girl instead of a child younger than Peanut is the right move. I know if we adopt another, it will be a child 3 or over. How I know this, I dunno, but I do.

It's been sooo long, this process. And yet, I'm panicked now that it is so close. So much to do. No time to mentally prepare (hah...yeah...right) and yet a need to try to prepare, control, organize, file...in ways that cannot happen within the laws of physics of this world. Doesn't help with the crazy house still torn up (at a "mostly" cosmetic level at this point in the renovation.) with my freaking.

I'm scared to death to bring Peanut with. I'm more terrified to leave her here, so she comes. I do hope she gets something out of going back to China at this age. The kid remembers every.damn.thing...eveh. So I hope so. I hope she absorbs enough to feel her country of origin...to feel a bit of the adoption and to see her story thru the unfolding of her sister's story.

Oddly, I'm not so worried (well, not out of the ordinary levels for a neurotic redhead) about the trip...I'm worried about being a mother to her day to day. I still many days fret about my skill set with Peanut (see neurotic thing above), and...well...school, social dynamics of almost-tweens, sibling stuff, discussions about things that are more scary to discuss then trying to explain to a 3.5 year old, though deep and complex, as to why she cannot put nail polish on the cat or why KaiLans friend is so mean...I worry that I'll be a disappointment to her after she's waited 9 years for a mama and a baba.

Getting my swimming cap on, pulling up the swimsuit...getting ready to dive in. Hope the water is warm...

I've been humbled...

2010-07-30T21:25:00.002-05:00

Two nights ago, I turned on my computer, sat with butterflies in my stomach, and waited to see the little icon turn green next to someone's name in my contacts list...when it did, my stomach lept right past my throat and into the ceiling above me. The I heard a little girl's voice impatiently pestering someone half-way around the world: "I want to see my mama, I want to see my baba, let me see them now."

The bravado quickly disappeared once she saw us. She was shy looking at us in the computer. We were getting short answers...which lengthened as the timer on the bottom of the screen clicked up with time. We got more eye contact, we got a few smiles, we saw her personality emerge in small glimpses - more towards her caretaker, but she was showing her true personality in fits and starts. Finally, giggles when baba swore up and down that yes, he likes the Chinese peppers too in food.

I was overwhelmed with the realization of the true depth of the language gap...she either didn't bother to listen to my feeble attempts at Mandarin, or found my tones so atrocious that she couldn't understand me. Truly in fear of the difference in societal norms for kids her age. She seemed so much younger than her age, she's smart, no doubt, but she's subservient in her thoughts, she did not feel at all comfortable in speaking her mind to us. She wanted to say whatever to please us, not realizing in this country that learning to be strong and sure of herself is a goal of parents.

I worry, she looked thinner, very very tired. She'd been in the SWI a month. And it looks like it is taking it's toll on her. I worry a lot.

And then I went to bed and laid there thinking about that hour...our first hour of life "together". And I thought about how she must have perceived the whole event...seeing the people who will come whisk her away, instantly to bigger, plusher hotels than she can imagine, onto planes she's only seen overhead, into a family that is completely foreign in more ways than one can imagine. The first time she heard us speak, in the language she will assimilate into, in the home she will inhabit, with all the mores and beliefs and history of "us" in this construct of a family she will join.

And there she had sat, worked up her guts and reached out to a new life waiting for her in clouded obscurity a world away. And she did all this sitting in a new place, a place that is foreign to her in the world she is used to...a place where she has recently had to work 24/7 to learn how to survive. Gone from what she has known for 4+ years...her family. She carried herself like a queen I believe, seeming small and fragile on the outside until you realized the strength carrying her thru to the point she's gotten to, and knowing that strength will continue to carry her thru farther than most of us could ever drive ourselves.

Enough with the fundraising already!

2010-07-25T13:09:00.002-05:00

See, I'm liberal leaning. Not flaming pants liberal, but not a neo-con. I believe in helping someone when they are down...for awhile. Then I expect them to pick themselves up again. And I believe in frying people who do really bad things to society. Just so you know where I'm coming from.

But, honestly, why in hell do people think it's other people's jobs to pay for their adoptions??? Does anyone go to their friends and say "hey, husband and I had awesome sex a few months ago, and I've got a bun in the oven, so can everyone else chip in and buy me a crib, some clothes, pay my hospital co-pay, and buy me some maternity clothes?!?! I've got a 'chip-in' on my blog." Do they put one of those creepy 3-D ultrasound pictures on a poster board and post it in front of a garage sale and toss a cute "jimmy's here" shirt on mom with an arrow pointing to her belly to entice people to buy their old stuff, for the sake of little Jimmy??

Do people ask churches to pony up so their husbands can squirt in a cup and the Dr can mix it in a petri dish?

Then, why the hell do people expect other people to pay for their children thru adoption??? Whose job is it raise these kids? Us, the parents. Is it my job to feed my kid? Yes. To clothe her? Yes. To put her thru college? Yes. Then why is it not my job to bring her home?

And there's these people out there who cry "we've done 2 adoptions in 2 years" or "well, this will be our 7th". Kudos to you, cause Lord knows I can't parent 7 kids. But it ISN'T MY JOB! You want 7 kids? Make enough money for 7 kids. You want to bring hom 2 in 14 months? Save your pennies, cut your cable and cell phone, dear gawd, even take out a loan (shudder)...but PAY FOR IT YOURSELF!!!

A. your child isn't a charity case. Don't set your kid up to be told by Martha at church (nicely, hopefully), or Brittany the 7 year old down the street (unkindly as a jab), that they assisted your kid's parents in buying them.

B. We're adults. Don't bite off more than you can chew. If you can't afford 7 kids, stop at 6. If you can't afford 2, stop at 1. I'd love a 650,000USD house that I saw up the street, but I can't afford it, so guess what? I didn't buy it. I want to travel to Australia. But I don't have the money. If it's cause you did two adoptions fast, well, maybe then you have to wait a few years till you adopt a third.Cause guess what? That’s what life is all about. Just cause it’s a kid, doesn’t mean that the laws of economics don’t apply. We all roll our eyes at people who have too many kids by birth and really just say “shut your legs already”…so what’s the difference? Cause, you know what, they get more expensive when they get here...

I also don't buy the argument "we can feed them and love them but we can't afford all the crazy adoption fees". Well, I can afford to maintain that 650k house, but I don't have 650k in my wallet, so guess what? I don't have it. That's part of the expense of a child thru adoption.

I went thru infertility. I wanted to have children so bad it hurt. But I don't have a right to a child. I do have a duty though to my child here and all children I would like to have to be fiscally responsible for the sake of the family. I have a responsiblity to keep my child's story private too. I have a responsibility to take on the responsibility of that child, no matter what comes with it. That's my role as a parent.

The Real Meaning of "Waiting Child"

2010-07-20T07:12:00.002-05:00

Now my daughter is a waiting child. A true waiting child. She is only now truly waiting for us. A was moved to the SWI in charge of her file a few weeks ago, unbeknowst to us. Of course we didn't know...we're not allowed to know next to anything officially. She was moved on the day we were DTC, ironically enough.

My daughter was taken out of a loving stable foster home she has been in for over 5 years to live in an institution. From the accounts I've gotten, it's a good one. But she's gone from the only family she's ever known. And I didn't know. And we caused it, technically. That's a hard pill to swallow...the first real effect we've had on her life is to cause that move, and to not be aware of it.

We had hoped, with how our state had fucked around with our paperwork, that they would not move her so soon. We had hoped that we would know. We had had a guess it would happen this summer, but...well, there were a lot of hopes.

And we understand why they did it. In principal at least. They don't want her to equate us with being taken away. But...she's older than most. She is aware. She's not a 2, 3 year old who viscerally reacts and doesn't understand the connections (s)he is making. No. This is an 8.5 year old girl. A girl who was loved...oh dear gawd was she loved. A girl who was actually being prepared for the adoption by her foster mother. Scratch that - a girl who was being prepared by her mother to be adopted. That to me was the best scenario possible - a loving stable home telling her this is good and they want her to be ready...it's not always that way, but in this case, it was. But rules don't see exceptions. No matter when they did it, she knows why she was moved. And now...right now...she is sleeping in a strange bed, in a group facility, with unknown kids and unknown social mores and unknown schedules and unknown fate. That's a lot for a child of 8.5 to be going thru...for the promise from some strangers 1/2 a world away that they are going to come for her, and that it's all going to be worth it.

My daughter is 8.5. Older than most would consider adopting, and that's fine. But she's not the 13 year old that is about to age out so that China moves mountains to hand carry their paperwork thru...so how long will she languish there? We don't have LID yet. We should have it. But we don't. So how long? We made a promise to be there by the end of the year...that's 6 months. Will China and the US allow us to keep that promise? Will she really have to be there 6 months? I can't hope for the special paperwork pushing cause she's not a special case to anyone but us. And nothing paperwork wise has gone well this adoption...thank you Illinois.

What does she have with her? Was she allowed to take her cherished belongings from home? Was she allowed to take her stuffed animal we saw in the video? Was she allowed pictures of her family? Was she allowed the scrapbook of her new life and the gifts we sent her? If anything, I hope she was allowed to fill the backpack we sent her with things from her life - we have a future together, I hope she was allowed to keep her past.

And I think about her foster sibs. I really think about her foster brother. Less than a year apart, tight as can be from what we know. He's up for adoption too. No one wants an 8 year old boy it seems. I've tried to advocate for him. I'll keep advocating for him...here and everywhere.

And her foster mother. I know she loves A. I saw it when she looked straight at me thru the lens of a video camera a few months ago and spoke to my husband and I. I saw her bury it quickly under Chinese dignity, but I saw it before she could stop it from bubbling to the surface...the pain in her eyes and the rock in her throat choking her at the thought of it.

This is what it means to be a "waiting child". She is waiting for a new life to start, paddling to keep going and learn a new temporary life. "Waiting child" is a monicker normally given to all the SN kids that are waiting...it gives a warm fuzzy name to a list of kids that many Chinese feel are unadoptable. It gives many APs the belief that these kids, older to a degree, will be happy to come here, that they truly are "waiting" for us, when in reality they are not.

Yes, this is short term. Yes, in the long term, this is good for A too...for 1001 reasons why she shouldn't stay in China. And yes, we have been given more info than we thought possible at the beginning of this, and for that I am thankful every moment of every day. But for right now, until my chalkboard score is more positives than negatives, it feels like crap to be in the negative with how I've affected her life.

My Sock Drawer Turned On Me...

2010-04-17T19:27:00.002-05:00

There's just some moments in life, odd ones where my brain plays tricks on me, where I'm reminded in odd little ways about how my life has changed...what age has brought to my life.

I've had a lot of sock deaths lately. Been thru a few maddening weeks where every time I put a sock pair on, I have a hole on the balls of me feet of at least one of the pair. Most fought a valiant death, some just gave up the ghost like sissys. Either way, I found myself not filling my sock drawer to the brim about 6 weeks ago - it was pathetically empty on its best day. So I did one of those evil nasty shopping trips. You know the kind...where you spend like double the money you intend to, and quadruple the amount you want to, and you still probably should have bought more. Yeah...I stocked up on socks and basic tshirts and the like. My drawer was mostly full...tolerable at least so that I'm still driven to do laundry by the demands of a certain toddler to wash the cupcake underwear vs needing a pair of black socks that look decent for going to Mandarin Class.

This week I was in laundry hell. Dunno why, but every day I had to do laundry. And ironing. And more laundry. Last night, I came up the stairs and groaned -the cat had found the clean laundry bucket I had forgot about. So everything was packed down with cat weight. Yeah, great. So grumbling under my breath, I tossed all the rumpled clothes into the appropriate drawers.

Tossed about 3 pairs of my socks in the drawer. Kicked it shut with my foot in a gray sock, and paused. Then I opened the drawer again and peered inside. Eyeballed it from about 3 angles. There they all were, all my little toe warmers in various weights and textures and colors. Well, then it hit me. Blah. Boring. Uninspiring.

What had happened to my lime green with gray polka dot socks? Where were the black and gray polka dots cashmere socks? Where were the lime, gray and purple stripes? And the turquiose and gray? And the purple ones? The ones with the little paint splattery looking blobs? Oh, and the ones with the vine going up the side? All gone. In the landfill.

And in their place? An assortment of gray, brown, black, light gray, ivory, and beige....adult socks. Boring. Grown up. Responsible socks. Socks that worry about the fees paid into their 401k and worry about making sure to get the low sodium products.

I'm middle aged apparently.

What Easter Means to Me...

2010-04-04T21:37:00.002-05:00

I don't have the traditional view of Easter...yeah, not shocking from the person whose very nature doesn't allow her to blindly follow anything but an awesome pair of shoes or a wickedly tight line of argument...

Easter was the first holiday that H was here. She had not been home long, but it was the first time we got to girl her up and take her out and celebrate something. We introduced her to P's extended family that first Easter. Last Easter was with my family, and this Easter was with my Dad and step-mom...so now we also have memories with everyone that are totally different situations. So I always have about 9.5 minutes of thoughtful reflection. I remember being the overwhelmed new mama, I remember her in her first cutsy-little purple, white and green floral dress with a little lavender sweater over it and black mary janes over her white tights. All the things that family-with-kids family photo memories are made of that I finally had as mine.

And I can still see in my eye the photo that came up on the camera screen when my husband took the photo of her in my lap....the first time I really really saw the vacant eyes staring back at me...we'd thought "she's come so far" the 7 weeks she had been home. She had...I don't deny that. But it showed me how far she still had to go in graphic detail. In the trenches of being a new mom, I had never stopped and just looked at her with the distance that a photo gave me. She looked like a doll - a perfectly formed, vacant doll. Still coping with what had happened to her to a great extent.

And I remember we tried to get her to smile...which we had seen her do often. But she wouldn't for the picture that day. Her way of keeping me in my place.

And this year, I saw her hunt down 15 eggs high and low with no issues. I saw her wanting to share her candy with me. I saw her say Thank You to the Easter Bunny...I saw her sit like a big girl in a big kid chair for 1.5 hours. I saw her charm the grandparents she took the longest to get used to. I saw her try 3 new foods. I saw her giggle and scream at the Easter Bunny, and worry about the ladybug climbing the window. I saw her see another Chinese adoptee and say "mama - she like me. Same." I heard her ask "why" questions thruout brunch. I felt her lean in and give me an unsolicited kiss. I saw the light in her eyes. I saw the spunk. I saw the intelligence. I saw the bonds.

She's come so far. And now, I know, she'll keep going.

The Importance of "Home"

2010-03-27T21:40:00.003-05:00

I make no promise as to where this is going to go...

I've been reading the yahoo groups, the RQ discussions, blogs etc about adopting an older child. To me, A's much bigger "Special Need" is her age, not her limb difference. I'm much more concerned about how this will play into her adoption than her physical issues...

There's a bunch of different views out there:

These kids deserve/want/need a home, and no matter what, even 3 hours before their 14th birthday, they should get a home.
These kids at some age are too much associated with their culture, and moreso, their ADAPTIBILITY to life outside an SWI is too little to make their adoption successful, let alone an IA successful.
There's going to be a lot of down days, and some up days, and over time it'll get better.
This is going to be a really hard road and if you're lucky, you come out of it in one piece, but it's doable, though you'll pay the cost heavily.
This is awesome. No one has ever had issues, do it, do it, do it!

Well, the skeptic in me guesses that the statistical bell curve most likely will put us in the middle road of all these ideas, but we're prepared for the worst, hoping for the best.

But I've been thinking about "home" as we twiddle our thumbs trying to not think about our paperwork languishing in various offices around the country...

What makes the place that instantly comes to your mind when someone utters that word to you? I don't doubt that H will think of this place as her home until adulthood. The good, the bad, the up's, the down's, my guess is this will be the place. But what about A?

My idea of home has changed over my life. There's the child's view of the house you are living in at that moment in time. Now I had a weirder situation in that my parents were divorced. Sometimes I viewed my Dad's house as my house too, sometimes not. So the notion of the little house you grew up in always being the place to return to is foreign to me. Also, no one stayed in that same house, and very few do in this country as it is.

But now, if someone says "home", I don't think of my loving parents and my childhood pets and a room with strawberry shortcake dolls in bins. I think of this house...I think of my daughter and my husband and our cats, and the pile of papers I've been promising to go thru for 6 weeks sitting on the kitchen island. And I guess I thought most people thought that way...home isn't a stagnant concept, it changes as life changes...

I have a neighborhood friend. She has a good heart, but is opposite my viewpoints on about everything. I honestly imagine her being the one who is like my SIL - the one in the family that will just . not. grow. up. and. move. on. I imagine her being the one the rest of the family mutters about when she calls mom for the 3rd time this week...she made a post on fb that made me choke on my bagel (ok, it was a handful of m&m darks, what's your point?!)...she posted that she was "going home to xxxx foreva". This woman used to travel 1/2way across the country every 3 weeks or so to visit her childhood home, before she had kids. She once told me "I wake up most mornings, thinking...I could just get on a plane and go home and be there in a few hours and never leave." And I wondered...what about your husband? Your home, your friends, your job, your...life?!

So she posted this. People asked if they were moving. She answered she could only hope so. She'd keep dreaming. Her husband of almost 10 years can see this stuff. What kind of committment has she made to him, to her two children, if she thinks like this still? I had never heard of someone who could have created this whole life and been willing to toss it for this view of what is still, really, home. And that's not even getting into the philisophical debate of if it can actually really go back home when you're 30-some years old...

So I read this post on fb last week...is this how A will feel? What will "home" be? Will it always be faraway in China? Or will she move onto a new phase of life, like many of us do, and think back to China lovingly, to the people who cared for her, but embrace a new "home."? Or will this strange country always be strange and odd to her, something that happened, and some good and some bad came out of it, but she'll never feel at ease here? When we take her back to China to visit someday will she post on fb that she's "finally headed home"?!

I know...I hope...she'll have fond memories and always feel a tie to her Chinese home. I hope she has those ties there. I do hope though that at some point she will bring up images of her room here, sitting here being a typical teenager petting her cat, annoyed that I can't drive her to the store right now because I'm shuffling thru that stack of papers that I've been meaning to sort for the last 6 weeks...when she's asked "what's going on at home today?" At least until she someday moves on to make her own home for herself.

Things I've Never Expected...

2010-02-01T15:34:00.005-06:00

I've had a LOT of firsts here, with this 2nd adoption...which, I find ironic in and of itself. But I've been baffled, bowled over, flummoxed and dazed with this.

I admit, I'm not a "fall in love the instant I see the pic" kinda girl. I admit, I'm scared shitless about at least 3 things about this new adoptionevery day...the whole "life is good, are we tipping the apple cart thing" down to "how the heck can I guess what color an 8 year old is going to want her walls to be painted". But I'm also totally excited...But I get that us adopting an 8 year old with a minor limb difference is not something most people do, and definetly outside the comfort zone of all the on-lookers outside of adoption world.

I guess I really never ever expected that people would focus more on her age than her SN. I researched her SN and if I wasn't comfortable with it, I wouldn't be doing it, right??? But I thought for sure, being a physically visible deformity people would get their undies in a bunch about that part of this endeavour.

I've had one neighbor ask me if I'm "too impatient to wait for the baby", labelling what we are doing as a "move marked by fear, not education". Same neighbor told me that she has a 6 and a 3 year old, so she's more experienced at parenting, which is true, and then followed it up with something that distinctly said "so where the hell do you get off thinking you can be successful cause you aren't as good at this as me."

I've had people completely focus on the fact that "what if she's in a bad foster home"? Or, "what if she's in a good foster home and doesn't want to leave?" Both situations...doesn't matter in the end - they are not a permanent situation for this child. If she's in a bad one, which I doubt, cause it's thru HTS, then, well, we help her catch up with whatever she has to catch up, and come to terms with what she has to come to terms with. If she's in a good one, then she'll mourn, and we'll help her thru it, and if possible, we'll keep that connection for her. But it's not a family!

I've had people tell me she's going to be easier than H...that because of her age, she'll know what she's getting, so she'll be so excited and grateful to have a family after all these years. I hope she's grateful to have a family because I know I am, but I don't hope for her to thank me for taking her in...including a member of our adoption agency who said she'll be just so happy to have us.

I've seen people on forums state that we have to be prepared for a GED receiving child who may want to live working menial work. That one shocked me - this is someone who has seen so many children be adopted. Why is my child adopted at almost 9 going to be getting a GED?

See, the thing is, there's a bigger issue here...one that no one wants to say. It applies to all of us, adopted, bio, alien, whatever. Life a lot of times hands you crap. Sometimes it's a tiny little pellet you can toss into the toilet and not worry about - other times, it's a big steaming stinky runny pile and it takes a shitload (pardon the pun) of effort to clean it up. What makes the person is not the pile of crap, but how they deal with it. Some people see the tiny turd as a huge mountain and live their life by it. Some see the big pile as something that needs to be dealt with and another as a life-stopping event. And then there's some people who see it all as a great source of fertilizer...

My job is to teach my daughters, and remember it often myself, cause I'm the queen of pessimism...that they have every right to feel how they feel about the pile laid at their feet by the dog of life. But they have a choice of how to let it affect them. They can learn from it, grow from it, and strengthen from it, or just end up covered in it as they roll in their sorrow. I have to equip them with the tools to shovel, and hopefully utilize the shit for good...not just the tools to cope by clothespinning their noses.

All of us have these piles. And yeah, my kids have some pretty damn big ones to deal with for such little ones. My job is to teach them that it's ok to lick your wounds, but it's up to them to take these trials and own them, tame them, and grow from them.

And that leads to the pile that I'm now helping H clean up right now. Never in a million years did I expect that this would already be causing her to start processing her own adoption. Heck, the kids not even 3 quite yet...she's seen a video of her sister, and we talk about her jiejie, so how much does she really get? And maybe she's not - maybe it's just the thought that came in her head today...but she woke up last night (and she's been known to have night terrors, minor ones, in the past, so not shocking), and today after 25 minutes of nap she woke up screaming. She said she was scared of whatever noun I tossed out there...sleep, her stuffy dog, me, the window, the airplane tomorrow, the blanket, the lamp, etc...so I wasn't getting anywhere with guessing. Then she sobbed "A...."and I asked if she wanted to go to China. She nodded. I don't know if it means anything or not. She couldn't tell me what about her - she wanted to go to China - I don't know if she wants to go back, if she wants A here, if she is remembering something...or it's just random. But it's not what I expected to hear as the cause of her distress when I ran up the stairs to try and calm the screaming...

Not where I expected to end up today, but I guess that's how these brain dribblings usually go.

Things People Just Have To Get Over...

2010-01-13T18:31:00.002-06:00

OK, I'm just annoyed for some reason today...here's a list of things you should figure out BEFORE you decide to adopt from China:

If you can't tolerate the food, and you can't even think of trying to put it in your mouth...how are you going to survive for 2 weeks? I get some people have allergies, but that's a minority. Also, what are you teaching your kids? The adopted one...that there are big pieces of their culture that turn their parents' stomachs? And all of your kids...that they shouldn't just learn to freaking try something different?! You can live without starbucks and pizza for 2 weeks, believe it or not.
If you can't handle flying...how the hell are you going to get to China? You are adults, you have to get a grip...alcohol, xanax, valium ain't the way to do it. Again...how are you going to handle a new baby doped up? Do you know how many people like you have bruised, smacked, insulted, and tortured my mother during the 37 years of service she gave to the airlines as a flight attendent? And, also, at some point, it's being an example to your kids...do you want them to see the way to deal with hard things is to take drugs?
Egads, you may not get the brands you are used to in the store. Do you see an orange on it and it's a liquid? I'll betcha it's OJ. You'll survive.
You might not get the made-to-order child. I'm soooooo sick of seeing people get mad that they didn't get the 6 month old cherub with no institutional delays or other undisclosed issues. Really? I mean, you get a 15 month old instead of the 12 month you were hoping for and you throw a month long hissy fit?
SN/age/gender etc: EVERY ONE HAS THEIR OWN ANSWERS...some can do it, some can't. Just cause you think boy hugs are the best, do you really have to chatter in my ear that I'm defective cause I don't want to adopt a boy? Do I chatter at you that you won't accept an 8 year old? Hummmm? Do I think CL/CP is a big deal. Yeah. I do. I have my reasons. Others don't. Who cares. It's my choice, it's your choice. Because I chose a girl doesn't mean that I think your boy is crap. It's no value judgement of any kind on your kid - get over it.
Yeah, you have to carry lots cash to China. Don't pat your pocket every 3 minutes, and you'll do fine. And the money there is the Yuan....tip in Yuan. Pay in Yuan...don't ask to use dollars...that makes you an Ugly American.
People are going to say stupid crap about you and your kid. When it's your sister, brother, whatever then yeah, deal with it. But if some moronic old lady says something in the grocery store, you don't have to educate her. You owe her nothing. You owe your child everything. But, really, 1/2 the stuff out there is us being waaaaay too over-protective. Walk away and if you kid questions you about it, say "well, there's people who don't get it honey". But if you think you are going to stop every dumb forwarded message, you are going to have a very hard and bitter life...you have to put a filter on your indignation and decide what's worth your energy.
Lots of agencies suck. No, I'm sorry...let me rephrase that: Lots of agencies SUCK HAIRY-ASS. pick wisely. And be willing to stick up for yourself at the end of it all.
In the end, do what is right for you, for your child(ren), your family, even if it goes against what everyone else tells you. Do what in your heart speaks to you...that's how you find out that you are going to get to parent (another) best child in the world for you....and that's how you find your way to the most beautiful, amazing 8 year old girl in all of China.

Ah...the clusterfu** that is life these days.

2009-12-28T14:47:00.002-06:00

OK, I've been an absent blogger, been around the block good and bad a lot here lately.

So let's talk about why the name of this blog is so freakin' appropros, shall we?!

We mostly remember the crazed pyschosis that our first adoption of the sweet and strong-willed Peanut...the 8 months that turned into 2 years...the beginning of the end of the China program...

And then the cute whirling dervish entered our lives...nothing describes life with a toddler like "Insanity"...

Then, things were going well...too well, with our attempt to adopt A. We had to wait an extra 4-6 weeks to get on the Taiwan list, as our agency wanted us home that full year with H. OK, cool. We knew we'd be in line longer than they were quoting...ok, we were good with our extended time frame...

Got many months in, then the agency in Taiwan, TWCA, "suspended" it's program. Nice way to say "go f*** yourselves", isn't it? Supposedly for 6-8 months. But no one can tell us the whole story. Nothing seems to be leaking out that can be taken for hard fact. We're back to the face-saving messages that 3 years of adoption the first time around made us familiar with...

Is there a liscense issue? Does TWCA adopt to other countries - if so, are they still getting referrals?! What about the people who are in court process now? When will we know anything?! All a blank wall. Answer of "be patient"...

Of course, if we leave because we've been shut down, our agency, which is 1000% better than our last one, claims all monies. Fine. OK, pisses me off, and I'll fight on some of them, but we're lucky, we can walk away if it means finding a child elsewhere.

Find a child elsewhere...
Yeah, has anyone tried that lately? Let's see...let's go stay in Kaz for 6 weeks...or RMI for 5-7...or, wait 2+ years in most programs and wait for this type of bullet to hit you inbetween your eyes 1/2 an inch from the bullet that was shot at us all the way from Taiwan 3.5 weeks ago...China?! Hah! Colombia...another 6 week stay. Hello, someone has to work and pay for this new child to eat!

China SN...an option this time around. We've found some slightly older girls that seem like a good match. Now we have an agency that thinks we are fools for going out of birth order. We have other agencies that don't return calls. We can't get answers on the nuts and bolts questions we pose about files with scant info, or something that should be clear like fee transfers to new programs.

You agencies post these pics and stories of these kids...NGO's beg for assistance for these poor orphans...wouldn't someone get off their asses and get us the damn video to take to the doctor? Phone it in to CCAA to get a test or more info on a painfully thin file? Make the damn effort? Or are you only willing to give children to people who sheepishly fall in love with a photo (which we are trying painfully NOT to do), even though you tell us not to...and don't ask the questions...to know that we can give these children the care they need AND deserve?

See, cause this kid will be my life and my joy, I'll do anything for her...and therein lies the dichotomy...I have a kid that is my life and my joy, and I'll do anything for her. I can't take on a child that we can't take care of - that will drain away the time and the savings accounts. I don't need a perfect child (aren't they all?!), but I can't take on one where I'll have to foot the bills...one with issues that won't be covered - one that I will be obliged willingly to do that for, one that then harms the other child's life. I owe both my kids certain things in life - my whole heart, opportunities in life, my time...food, education, etc. I can't do that if we're working 3 jobs a piece to pay for bills.

So here we sit, with the hearts, the ability, the time, the willpower, and the monies to adopt in almost any program, but precious little assistance from a handful of agencies and a boatload of international programs....programs that all post that they need families, they have children that need homes.

I'm finding this adoption all of a sudden a much bigger leap of faith than I ever thought it would be, that I ever thought either of our adoptions would be...do we stay and hold our breathe? Do we leap to another agency, another country, another whole idea of what our 2nd child would be? I'm willing to step off the cliff into an abyss of educated hope, but I need to know what cliff to step off of.

I don't ask for a crystal ball...I do ask for honest answers. And of those, IA has very little these days.

Just using this as a place to pull a photo from...

2009-12-13T19:38:00.001-06:00

Referral Pictures

2009-11-28T08:58:00.002-06:00

We have H's referral pictures that we received (2 years ago next week!) around the house. We have one framed upstairs on our dresser, and 2 on the refrigerator with about 5 other pictures. I'm thinking about removing them. As I scuttle around the house, especially now that the Christmas season is about us, I am really seeing the house a lot more than day-to-day. You know how it is - you just wander by things and don't really look. Which is really sad, cause we've filled the house with beautiful and memorable things, but, I digress...

When we got those photos...well, I could never ever imagine NOT seeing them everyday forever. They had been a fulfillment of years of waiting and hoping. Years of infertility before that. Pain, frustration, longing and lots of anger during the wait. I clutched those pics for the 2.5 months that we waited to go to Hunan. I lived and breathed by those 3 little pictures.

And now, when I see them, I feel next to nothing. I remember the excitement, and that's about it. And as I write that, it sounds horrible. But, that's not H in those pics. That's not the funny, obstinate-as-all-hell-and-just-as-smart drama queen. The one who has grown into loving gymnastics and Mandarin class. The one who will control all eating and bodily functions for days as a point of showing control. The one who snuggles up into my lap and says "no play mama...snuggle. The one who grins ear to ear when she knows all the letters on the signs of the stores and can make the letter sounds...The face in the pictures is a chubby infant face sticking out of a stuffed animal, and I really think it looks nothing like her. It's a living doll, propped up in poses for little 4x5s to be sent to an office as a stop-over to a world away from where she was as a petition to join a family. She looks blank in them. She looks like everything she is not - passive, cooperative of manipulation, bored, uninterested - in these photos.

I have sentimintality for these photos, but that's about it now. And that shocks me. People will tell me that I want to deny her history. No, I'm ok with that, that's how she came to us. Maybe it's a lack of memories associated with the photo. I've got a pic of her in Dada's arms at her first father's day. I have a pic of her at a local teaching farm in the field with a wildflower branch in her hand. I have a pic of her grinning ear to ear with a cookie...all these images, I remember, I can smell and hear what was happening when I look at them. Those are the ones I want to stop next to the coffee table and cherish.

Memories of Danny

2009-08-09T07:51:00.007-05:00

We learned last night that we lost a long time friend...Dan was 35. He was P's childhood friend, and became the brother I never had when I started to date P. He was best man in our wedding.

I remember the first time I met Danny...I had heard so much about him already. P and I had been dating a few months, but were talking pretty seriously already...Danny called because he was coming back from LA to NY, as he was done with submarine duty for the M/M Academy, and wanted to know how far our university was from the airport. P pretty much ruled it out with the length of layover, and then Dan found out about me. Dan was determined to meet me once he heard that this was already pretty serious. With only about a 4.0 hour layover, he landed in ORD, came up to school, hung with us for about 2 hours, and then went back to the airport. That's how he was...he always was open, loving, outgoing, and a bit of a spur of the moment.

I remember the toast he gave at our wedding...beautiful and caring words that I never expected out of "just Danny." He was the brother I never had...he was the brother P never had. I remember Danny three way calling while we were in school, cause they figured out that the Academy only tested for long distance after 20 minutes, so he'd call and set a timer and then walk away, so our parents wouldn't yell at us about phone bills, the summer P and I were living 5 states apart. He would do that when he called us too - we'd talk the three of us for 3 hours easily, in 19 minute increments. I remember Dan calling drunk from a bar in NY, because a pop star from the 80's that he had had a crush on in the day had walked into the bar...I remember him flying out for a surprise party for P's masters. In a snowstorm, coming in 3 hours late. But he never gave up coming. I loved seeing P's and his faces that weekend, having them back together again, having a great time. I remember the fear we felt on 9/11, not knowing where he was for hours, he was a freelance consultant, we just didn't know. He had been outside the city a bit still, thankfully. I still remember his voice when I picked up the phone. I can still hear it. I remember when I went to visit him in NY, back in college, and he so naively told the bum that I wasn't his girlfriend and the bum hit on me then...and I remember the time he almost lost an arm pulling me into the subway train during rush hour. I remember the pain he was in the time I spoke to him after his kidney was removed.

Over the years, Dan came and went. It wasn't unusual to not hear from him for a year. He was a single guy living in the city. In 2005, we got a call from him, he was having surgery. Kidney cancer. He was 31 at the time. I spent a lot of time on the phone with him then, and talking to his mom who moved to NY to see him thru the kidney removal. He bounced back quickly. He worked hard at it. He didn't want P and I to come, he wanted us to visit when he was well, and I was soon to have my first surgery for endo. We were for sure he'd be out to the house within 6 months. It never happened.

P last saw him a few years ago, when he took a business trip to NY. They went our for sushi and ran up a huge bill drinking and eating and talking. Danny's Dad had just passed, and it had hit him hard. Dan was talking about moving back to FL. He was admiring of our work on the adoption (we were still waiting), he shocked us by speaking of a desire to go and find a way to adopt as a single dad. We encouraged him, but as he moved closer to moving to FL, the talk faded away, and he did too.

Once he moved, he fell off the face of the Earth. Which we expected, that was how he was. We figured he'd resurface once he was settled in, once he had a job and was back in the groove. We were in the midst of H's adoption, that was the first email that he didn't respond to.

Did he move to FL knowing the cancer was back? Knowing it was the end? Did he go back and move into a home in rural FL to die? Did he purposefully keep that from us? Dan came and went, but we always reconnected. And as soon as we did, it was like no more than a week had passed.

Our lives have a big whole in them right now, a painful dark hole. And the only thing we have to fill it is regret. Regret we didn't find some way to check on him, that we didn't send more than an email every few months. Regret that life got in the way of the big picture when we realized something was up.

We always think there's another day. Now, there are no more days. All I can hope for is that some of the religions of the world out there are right, that there's going to be a child soon born that has the soul of a loving, kind, intelligent person who was well loved in this life and that that goodness is carried on. 35 years for this world to have had him wasn't enough.

Good bye Dan, we love you.

Did Anyone Send Out a Search Party?

2009-08-03T12:43:00.003-05:00

Random Dates of Reflection

Perhaps some of you remember this story, most probably don't...but it's become woven into a point in time that for some reason apparently every year becomes a moment of reflection for me...

Our neighbor got pregnant with her 2nd (after giving up) the week we sent our dossier in to China. We had thought they'd "be coming home" the same time roughly, Peanut and her child-to-be. Well, obviously, with a 12/05 LID, that didn't happen. G was 18 months old by the time we got referral of Peanut. The timelines of this little boy's life stung me like few things stung me as the wait dragged out, I had two more surgeries due to the endo eating on my insides (culminating in a hysterectomy at the age of 33), and I felt that becoming a mama was never going to happen for me...

Two years ago, at his first birthday (which is what I posted about back then), not only was I still waiting the endless wait, with all kinds of rumors swirling and twisting in the air, and no end in sight, but also another drama-queen friend was there, knocked up with twins via ivf. She sat there and bitched all day about the trauma of having to carry these babies, and how expensive all this had been, and she hadn't had her teeth fixed before the pregnancy, and now the one root canal she had needed to do had become infected and they had to do it with a topical, cause, hello she was pregnant with twins, and obviously didn't have 2 brain cells to click together...she figured if she did the dental work, they wouldn't have the cash to get the ivf (hello? is this a sign?), so she opted to not have 7k in work done to her teeth, cause that's waaaay safer for all.

So, in my grown up way, with all my wits around me, I went next door to my house with some false pretense and sobbed my eyes out. And sobbed and grieved and sobbed some more. No matter how hard my friend had hoped for her 2nd, and this friend had endured infertility to get this pregnancy, I was pissed off and hurt. I felt somehow betrayed, tortured by these people having these kids and kids-to be. Probably the worst day ever of a one-week-under-2-years wait for Peanut.

Last year, G turned 2, and H was with us. She had been home 5 months and was a velcro baby. I was so proud to be carrying her into this party...my little girl (I was one of the mamas now!), in her little party dress. Our friends' family was all there oohing and aaahing over her, and it felt so good, after the year before's pain. Then I realized the absolute joy of seeing your child do something, attain a goal you've had for her...my little velcro baby went outside after a few hours with another neighbor friend and her little boy...she looked at me, and I said "if you want to go outside, you go with N"...and she did. And I felt myself beaming with pride. She was so brave. She was already learning to grow up...and even better, after 20 minutes, she came back inside and ran into my arms and squealed "mama!"

This year, G turned 3. He's independent and following the big boys etc, etc...H is more advanced "academically", but I see her socially behind where he was at at her age. What did I see yesterday? I saw a little girl hesitate at first, who still refuses to eat in groups other than small snacking, but then she warmed up, I saw her ask her dada for her swim suit (and after just a few seconds of hesitation about me staying at the party, she went home with him to get it), and run around on the slip n slide, and jump in the pool with the little kids and some of the bigger ones. I saw her let another neighbor hold her, a man who is gentle and kind, but with his booming voice scares the crap out of her. I saw G's dad get a hug from her, another man who's kind and caring towards her, but his height scares her. I saw a girl who says thank you to people, and one who climbed into the pile of kids watching presents opened with just a quick turn of the head to calculate my position. I saw a different child this year, one who is confident, smart, becoming articulate (she held discussions with many people who rarely hear her talk, and they understood her! woot! speech therapy!)...I saw the timid scared baby all washed out of her soul, I saw a strong confident little girl standing there...an opininated one (she was back in China too), but one who not only is confident enough to express her opinions clearly, but one who is learning to do it kindly (usually), and with some poise.

And me? I feel a different woman. A much stronger person, mentally and emotionally...between the endo trying to steal all quality of life, and the wait that we endured (more than I ever estimated in myself that I could handle)...a strong person who has been broken down and built back up. I was wobbly on my feet as a new mother, terrified of caring for this little one. Now, I'm confident, and sure of my steps with her. I have days where I can't wait for P to get home, but I feel very recently, that I've truly fully adjusted to motherhood...it can feel like a daily struggle sometimes - hell, she's 2, but not a struggle to find my bearings anymore. I don't know really how to explain it, I just feel zen about the whole thing now...

And here we are, a few days shy of 5 months into the wait for mei mei. A totally different wait, this time around. At this point last time, I was going bat-shit crazy. This time, I'm good, I know it'll almost for sure come. I know I can deal with the changes that we only had been warned about with IA, but never experienced at this point last time. I also know H isn't quite ready for mei mei to be here...in a year, yeah she will be. She's learning to share so nicely, but she's not ready to share me quite yet. All that has transpired in the last 2 years has made the child I'm waiting for much more tangible than H ever was when she was a figment of our dreams.

And I wonder next year, what will Peanut be doing at the party? Will she be the one helping the scared little twins come out of their shell? Will Peanut be showing off the picture of her new baby sister waiting in Taiwan at the party with an expression of her opinions and viewpoints on everything going on? I do know she again will not be the child that attended that party yesterday...

National Doughnut Day & Time Slipping Away...

2009-06-05T07:13:00.002-05:00

According to MSN, bringer of every piece and tidbit of important, earth-shattering news, it's National Doughnut Day. Mind you, I love a sugar bomb of carb goodness like everyone else. Sometimes, I get a craving for the twinkie-filled doughnuts that Kr**py Kr*m* used to carry around here, and was stoked even more when the local doughnut shop, which churns out amazing doughnuts, copied and improved upon this treat. But, I eat them rarely, cause I'm entering the mid-30's this year, and my family genetics isn't kind to my backside as it is.

But, seriously, our gov't spends tons of money convincing us to eat healthier, to make our kids do stupid tests that supposedly test healthfulness (yeah, I remember when they started that...holding your chin above a bar only tests your threshold for pain, not if your ticker is good.), threaten to sue/ban/put on 40 foot billboard how unhealthy so much food is, but then there's a National Doughnut Day? I mean, some National Horse Puckey Day usually overlaps with National Pick Your Nose Day, but I just don't get the message...and I don't get why any government takes the time to worry about this bullshit. Oh yes...contributions to campaign funds. Well, I guess I just lost the doughnut & horse puckey union for thousands towards my campaign in 3 years...

Crazy old-lady with her robe open rant done...

On another front, I've broken down and I'm starting to work on The Peanut's photo albums. I'm not doing the China trip yet, I still don't know how to tackle that. I'm making it into a bigger deal than it should be, but there's so much emotion locked up with those pics. So I'm starting at her first days here, and moving forward...so the short version is, I've been going thru pics from March 1- approx May 31 2008 - slightly over a year ago...

Already, I don't know this baby in these pics. I don't remember how we went thru the days with her, she is so tiny (well, not really, but...relatively...), so helpless, so overcome, so shy and cautious. So very much not my opininated, stubborn, bright - wickedly bright, gregarious, loving child is now. It feels like a million years ago. Here, now, we are working on kicking the straw sippys, the crib is coming down within the next few weeks, we're showing an interest in the potty, are completely sure of ourselves and our opinions on everything, and willing to defy authority to express our opinion. And it's only been a year...what's it going to be like looking back at these in 2, 3, 7 years?!?! Will I remember how it was to go upstairs and have her giggle hilariously that she opened the door by reaching over her crib and jumped up and down to see me? Or will that be a dusty memory too quick and we'll be living in a new moment, so far away that I can't even imagine it, but apparently much closer than I think it is?

I'm amazed at what my child has already accomplished, and I look forward to what she is going to accomplish, but for a few moments, I need a sit with a doughnut and relive in my brain the baby she was...

The Alcohol Story

2009-06-03T19:09:00.002-05:00

I just can't let this one go - I just still can't believe it, and how, thru all of the crap my ILs put me thru in the past, I have never ever been embarrassed to be 'one of them' before like this...

So, the mother of the groom paid for the rehearsal dinner. There were almost 40 people there, and it was about $45 a head. So, a very nice dinner. She's a single mom of 3 grown kids - a kindergarten teacher. Nice lady. I know this was a lot of money for her...hell, it should be considered a lot of money for anyone...upwards of $1500 or more?!

So, the first full day we are in the state of the wedding, we go to lunch with SIL (the bride to be extraordinaire), MIL, FIL and the three of us. We got P's tux, yada yada yada. We get back to the house, and the three of them have a martini while H naps. So, like, 2:30 in the afternoon, which to me, for just sitting around the house is a bit early, but that's just me.

Then MIL starts on about how, although they think the restaurant is charging too much for the alcohol, they think the groom's mother should be paying for the alcohol. They say that the least she should do is pay for a glass of wine for everyone to toast with. This gets my MIL on a tangent for over an hour about how "this isn't how our family does this" etc etc etc, and that SIL has to get groom to get his mother to explain to every...single...person...what she's doing, because "our friends" won't get it. Yeah, you are decently well off, but come on - if you were paying for this too, you'd be squirming.

Then the groom calls SIL, and she dutifully relays all this to groom. Aggressively to the groom...I feel bad for him - he's now between her and his mother the day before the wedding. She has told him she will not pay for the alcohol straight out, multiple times apparently. Then I ask her, if she cares so much, why not pay for it herself with the groom. Her answer?! "Well, not that it really matters (which always means it does), she would kinda be getting the credit for it when we were the ones paying". WTF?

MIL decides that she won't drink anything as a sign of protest. P and I are feeling it's not worth drinking because, well, we have a lot to do the next day with the wedding and all, and we're tired. So the tangents continue into the afternoon. FIL is strangely silent. Smart man.

We get to the restaurant, and everything is fine. The waitstaff tell us that x, y and z are included. Everyone is fine with this. It's common. One of the IL's friends makes a loud and obnoxious comment about the jack daniel's sauce for the bread pudding: "I thought there was no alcohol at this event!" So, apparently, MIL spent the socializing time before dinner telling her friends how embarassed and ashamed she is of this to cause the friend to mouth off about it?!?!

We left "early" at 9pm cause The Peanut was cooked. So the next morning, we hear how the rest of the party went...I guess the waiters came around at the end to collect for the adult beverages that were purchased and the same friend (who is obscenely rich, btw), stands up and says "clearly so that everyone knew what a nice thing he was doing"(quoting my MIL) (humility is not valued a lot in this family apparently) that he was "sick of this nickel and diming crap" and that he was going to pay it all.

I asked if the grooms mother heard this. MIL didn't seem to see what I was worried about...she said "If not, I made sure bride knew, so that she could get groom to let his mom know what a nice thing friend did."

Ummmm...saying that your host that just spent over $1500 on dinner is nickeling and diming isn't a "nice thing." It's being a show-off rich prick. And the info to set him off was fed to him, I'm pretty sure on purpose, by the pissy off MIL.

I feel so bad for groom's mom...I didn't get to talk to her a lot, but she seemed really nice. And even if she was a stark raving mad bitch, no one should be ungrateful like that. And apparently, most of my ILs were that night....

The rub of all this? When we got married 13 years ago, my ILs were such jerks about everything, because MIL didn't want me taking her baby away. P had to out and out ask them if they were going to offer to do anything (say, pay for the rehearsal or the bar tab or whatever) 2 months ahead (we were engaged for almost 2 years), because they weren't tactful enough to offer. They finally grudgingly offered to pay for the bar tab for the wedding...my mother and father ended up telling us to use the money for our honeymoon, because they didn't need something that was so unwillingly offered. Also, when my mother wrote a letter to MIL about x y and z with the wedding (one item being a memorial candle for her departed parents), she never even bothered to respond. But now, they are mad that their friends martinis aren't paid for. I don't like hypocrites.

I wasn't there, I was not a part of all this, but I'm embarrassed to ever see his mom again, how tactless our family and their friends acted...

You Know...

2009-05-25T17:15:00.002-05:00

You know you're visiting waaaay South of the Mason-Dixon when:

The police drive pickup trucks...with crosses/rosaries dangling from the rearview mirror.
It's socially acceptable to have a molded plastic dolphin mailbox holder (that crafty dolphin has learned to hold your electric bill with his flippers! Smart marine mammal! Have a mackeral!) in front of your 500k+ beachfront home.
People say "I got my nails done at the Vietnamese place" and everyone, even from 30 minutes drive away, knows who and where you are talking about.
Everyone in the discussion also knows at least 5 other people who have had dealings with them - either of two ways: a. They are really 'actually' rather lovely people, or, x y and z strange things happen, well, because, you know...
It's acceptable to go to the grocery store with no shirt on.
You walk your pet goat along the expressway to get it some excercise.
You dust people if you go the speed limit.
It gets quiet in the restaurant lobby when you walk in with your adopted child.
There's minimum 2 bbq places in every strip mall, and you count one faux-Chinese restaurant in all of 3 towns.
There's golf cart dealerships every few miles. They are packed on Saturday. You wonder how many sell when the economy isn't in the crapper.
There's a general consensus that Bush should be offered an honorary 3rd term.
You see Mercedes sporting Confederate Flag bumper stickers.

You know you are at a Southern Wedding:

When people you don't know, and have never heard of, know intimate details of your life.
And they hug you. Repeatedly. More than family.
There's grits served at the pre-wedding luncheon, even if it's in a million dollar beachfront condo. They were fancy though - they were cheezzzzz gggrrrittts.
The bride wears blue eyeshadow.
And blue mascara.
Strange men at the wedding feel a need to call you little lady and tell you things while winking at you.
You see the bartender look at you funny when you ask if they have viognier wine.
The wedding is at a high end swanked out golf course, and the flowers came from Ace Hardware.
Photography takes 4.5 hours pre-wedding. That's after they take professional pics of the dress...on the hanger.
One (brides) family gets offended the other (grooms) family won't pay for the drinks at the rehearsal dinner they are hosting, because "our family" expects it, we don't "do it" that way. Hours of discussion amongst the head hens of the family occur. Correction: Days of discussion.
Family friends get involved in righting the wrong of the drink debacle.
Someone makes a comment that it's nice that the bride included her niece's culture by serving mini-eggrolls at the cocktail hour before dinner.

You know you are at a Family Wedding:

When your SIL, the bride, talks about the most expensive gifts she got. And you know nothing about the other gifts.
Your MIL feels it was her duty to tell the bride and the groom about the gift you spent 2 months making for them, even though you specifically asked her to keep it a secret.
You call your friend back home at least twice, and she answers with "what did they do", and you answer with "how much bail money would you be able to raise?!"
You seriously consider committing 8 major felonies and 7 misdemeanors in the course of 3 days, but for family harmony, you desist.
You feel like a crappy stepped on doormat at the end of the event.
You wish you could keep the groom, and really truly "give away" the bride.

Ahhh, there's no where like midwest suburbia...

Moms with waaaaay too much time...

2009-04-22T07:18:00.002-05:00

So, in the mail last night, I received a catalog for an on-line announcement/card company...(I won't go into the idocy of that oxymoron. Let's just say that I work in the print industry and I've come to realize how much of us are unnecessary.)

Inside on page 30-some is a cute little foldover card in the hot dark brown and accent tones. It says on it, I am not shitting you:
"Let's get together for a playdate!"

And inside it has the super-chic, wanna be Gwyneth/Jennifer/Angelina moms info, with a little week laid out in a grid under it. I guess you just put the time in the right box under the right day of the week!?! Like a dental appointment?

If your kid has that big a social calendar that:
a. You have to order these in bulk...
b. You have so many to write out you can't email/write your addy on a piece of paper without seriously impacting your yoga/baby and me/baby french/baby fencing/wine tasting/baby particle physics class schedule...
c. The circle of friends is so wide that your "friends" don't know where you live...
I personally hypothize that you're teaching your kid the wrong priorities in life. And you kid probably never sees, hummmm, oh that's right...You.

But that's from a plain-Jane midwest mom, I'm not kewl like y'all, I guess. And I like it that way.

It's All My Fault...

2009-04-08T14:32:00.002-05:00

We got in line with China back right after the first 1/2 month of referrals came thru...the beginning of the Great Slowdown. Not that we knew that, cause our shit agency didn't tell us crap...

Now, we've been in line, I just realized, with Taiwan just over a month...and we get a newsletter from our agency today...
Projected wait times for our program? Last newsletter: 10-12 months. This one? 12-18, conservatively. Whatever that means...

Yes, that's it folks, we are the whole problem with international IA...us wanting a few rughuggers. Sorry. Blame me. Throw shoes at me, but make sure they aren't tacky...

Famous last words you can laugh at later...
Right now, I'm ok with it. We had planned 24 months when we signed on, not realizing this program was initially that much faster. I had seen it creeping up, I was guessing 14 or 15. It just scares me a wwweeeeeee bit, cause I've learned it's always twice as bad as they say...

I would like to be there before 2010 is over. That's just me. I don't know why.

Are y'all done laughing at that "I'm ok" statement yet?

I'll also say that I was shocked that one month was gone. Last time, waiting for H, I was walking around my office whining that I wanted my baby by now. I'm thankful any part of this wait is going easier for me...

And y'all can laugh when I crash and start whining again, that I brought it on myself, cause I will, cause I have that 2010 thing in my head...it's just a question of when. I'm also humbled by so many friends still waiting for China. We waited 2 years, the wait just surpassed 3.

Right now, I'm still breathing. Still steady.

Am I doomed to be the wtf mama to H?

2009-03-26T08:21:00.003-05:00

I swear, I should get a nobel prize for not having been driven to alcoholism by my mother in the 34 years I've haunted this blue marble planet of ours...she becomes more certifiable by the day...

We've been going around, and around...and around about H's birthday party. I didn't invite her because:
1. Her bday is the day before H's, so we just do something for both of them together...
2. She is anti-social when she isn't around her people...and these days, that means anyone who isn't a god-fearing bible-thumper. Ergo, our party, with neighbors and friends too, and a pitcher of sangria to be offered to the adults, will get me no end of the nitpicking from her, and I honestly don't need the pain in my ass from it. God forbid I have a glass of wine at my kid's party...that starts at 3 in the afternoon, so we're not talking about an 8am binge here. And, if the kids all crash in the basement watching a movie later, we might all get together and commit a HUGE vice, we're evil parents - we do dirty things together...we might play a round or two of poker for dollars....ohhh, call child protective services...we're bad because we play texas hold em after the pin-the-tail-ers are asleep.
3. My dad and step-mom usually come, as there is no other family to have a party with, like my mom's side, and his bday is 2 days before, and he doesn't care, so I get him a cupcake next to her cake, and we're all good. Again, my Dad does't care that he's with our friends too - he actually will talk to them...to have them together? oy vey.
4. My in-laws are going to be here too...and my mom HATES my in-laws, with good reason...they were shits to her back before we got married...they judged her big time for being a single mom kinda thing...

So, she insists that she has to come, because all the other g-parents will be there...she doesn't "want" to come and be around everyone, and she thinks that she's going to hog H, and she doesn't care what everyone thinks of her, but, now she does, cause it would look bad for her to not be there.

Oy vey, so I'm going to have my dad, step-mom, mil and fil and mom all in the same house.

So yesterday, I call her to ask to borrow her crock-pot. She says "well, I guess I could be there right at 3." "Ummmm, mom, the party starts at 3, you've been crabbing for weeks that you have to be in attendence...when will you be coming?!" "I don't know, but I wasn't going to be there right away." Can we say passive-aggressive?!

Then H babbles in the back seat, and I get the "are you seriously talking on the phone with my granddaughter in the backseat while you are driving?!" Ummm...yeah, we're going home from her haircut. "You got her hair cut?!" "ummm, yeah, it finally grew enough she looked like a street urchin"...

Said with dripping resentment: "I can't believe you took her to her first haircut without me. I wanted to be there."

Well, mom, 1. you never told me that, and 2. her dad, who was at home working, didn't even come with. Hello?! She's NOT your daughter!

Who wants to come to drink with me sunday once the ILs are gone, my mom's out of my hair and the balloons are deflated?

And, am I doomed to be like this someday?

Did I Tell You, BTW?

2009-03-17T21:10:00.001-05:00

That we were officially waitlisted for Taiwan on 03/06/09?

Wooooo-hoooo!

They say "about a year" to referral...

Let the countdown begin...365ish days, 364ish days, 363ish days...

Note to In-laws

2009-03-16T09:38:00.002-05:00

I appreciate that you don't want to over-step your bounds and invite people to our house because it's not your house to invite people to...

But, when you've told us that you want us to add 4 of your family members onto H's bday party list, and we've negotiatied to seeing them instead the night before so the house isn't overflowing, who exactly makes the call isn't really the issue, is it?

And really, at that point, you're just making us do more work, cause no matter who calls, it's you inviting people to our house. We're ok with it, just not to the party, but don't put lipstick on the pig by making me call your siblings and have awkward conversations, ok?

Geez, that's when you get all prim and proper? Oh, yeah, it's probably cause you don't really want to talk to them either...I get it now. Nope, sorry...you call. I'm just the banquet hall manager...

It's Been Awhile...

2009-02-28T21:18:00.002-06:00

Tonight, just a recap...

We've had 2 illnesses sweep the house - the evil, nasty, washing-machine-overloading flu, and my personal un-illness (according to the doc) evil death cough that keeps me up at night. I've never wanted to cry so badly as when I saw my daughter sick with the flu...we got sick within a day of when we got sick a year ago in China....

We had many anniversaries here...P's birthday, H's Family Day, H's 12 month post-placement is done, and, today, the 1 year anniversary of H coming to her new home. Amazing dates I couldn't imagine we would ever get to, and here they are, seemingly in the blink of an eye. Soon, we'll have our official start date for our wait for Taiwan...

My baby this week has learned how to express possession, so the days are passed with talking about mama, dada and peanut's things...blankets, forks, cheeks, hair, books etc. It's amazing and I'm blown away - a year ago, I could not have imagined her being at this point.

Hopefully, I'll sleep tonight, and I'll get well enough to get out into the world again and then have something interesting to talk about...there's no way to express the emotions of the last 2 weeks with H, illness lows, anniversary highs, so I'm not going to try...

Happy Anniversary, Peanut.

Now, I'm Just Being Messed With...

2009-02-04T07:11:00.002-06:00

First off, by a 22 Month-old:
The last 3...yes, 3 things that I have bought/made for dinner that I knew...really knew...that she liked/would eat, she wouldn't eat. I'm so sick of the picky. But whatever, she doesn't want it, she doesn't want it. I put it on her plate, tried to feed it to her...nothing. The last blob on my plate...every single time...she starts howling for, and gobbles it up. I'm talking, things like the tetrazini, we ate for 3 or 4 nights. Only wanted it on the last night, the last bit. Oy. At what age can you tell a kid "I know you love this, at 17 months, you almost pulled the (cold) pan of it from my hands...eat up!"??????

The SIL:
Well, it hasn't gotten any easier. There's been emails, calls etc etc as y'all know. P nicely inferred a threat of cancellation by the whole Party of 3, and she emailed me a 3 line apology for the F off. Nothing else. Not the dress, not the flight stuff, not doing anything caring about H the past year, nothing. I sent a long email, I even explained myself on something that I didn't have to (why we didn't call from China for $3 a minute while deathly ill but called my friend who had access to our blog to tell everyone everything...and talk to her boss, H's ped), because they were apparently hurt by that, even though they shouldn't have been...and in true family fashion, instead of telling us that, they just stew. So, have I gotten a response? No. P says he's going to make her talk to me. I said, well, that's kinda pointless, cause you a) can't, and b) it makes it moot, seeing as she doesn't want to give a rats ass.

So, she apologized just enough that if I don't come to the wedding, I'm the bitch. Check. I get it. It's not checkmate yet, I just have to figure out my way out...cause I'm done. She will have only a cursory relationship with me, and my daughters. P, well, that's up to him.

I've been told to f-off

2009-01-24T21:03:00.002-06:00

Well, WWIII exploded. I admit, I didn't take kindly to being used as a hotel. And I told her I was sick of being contacted only when a. It was her bday coming up, b. It was Christmas coming up or, c. She needed something.

She went running to Daddy, who called to put a stop to this "bad behavior" on my part this morning. He was almost willing to listen this morning....

I stupidly tried to call her and sort this out, and ask her why she has her parents fight her fights instead of calling me, and why she "conveniently" left out the fact that I have actually called her and spoken with her about topics in an adult and compromising manner that were all rebuffed.

I was told to f-off, that she talks to her "family" (fiancee and her parents is how she qualified that statement) about things that upset her, and that I can't say anything that will put a damper on the wedding till it is done, because this is her time to celebrate. (I guess one day isn't enough...she needs 6 months) Then I was told that I shouldn't come to the wedding.

Funny, the FIL agreed that if the dress bothered me and there were other options, why should I be held to the bridesmaid dresses? At least this morning he did...

Then when we told the FIL that I was told to not come to the wedding, the story changed...it's all my fault, SIL is the angel, and all hell broke loose...

Anyone want 3 plane tickets for a holiday?

Hotel de InSanity

2009-01-23T08:33:00.002-06:00

Did you know I run a hotel? Yes. Out of my own home, with free shuttle service. Really, you should call me and ask me to go three hours out of my way to pick you up, make it so my husband doesn't see his kid all day to do the picking up, and ask us to drive you back at a really early hour on a Saturday morning...12 hours later.

It's what I do best, being a doormat.

At least, that's your view, if I'm your SIL.

Cause apparently, you don't want to see us, as when I had to not offer my normal level of service (oh wait, she's never visited on her own in 8 years), and ask you to take a limo one way, you tell me not to worry about it...you wanted a ride both ways.

Yet, we're spending how much on attending/participating (so she can make it look like we're such a big happy family) in her damn wedding?

I am guessing she wants to see H. (This is for a week after the wedding, BTW, so she will have just seen her.) But, she gets here after bed, and leaves right after she wakes up. But she wants to see her so bad, cause she cares so much for her.

Funny one: How she cares so much? Never has emailed after surgery, getting home, bdays, holidays etc about her, but she comments "so much" on H's private blog...twice in 11 months.

Yeah, sorry, we went out of the B&B business a few months ago...economy and all. Sorry. Go stay at the Hilton.

Hope

2009-01-20T21:28:00.002-06:00

There's hope in the air. The old administration was old, dusty, and myopic at best. Paths were chosen (maybe they did think they were doing good?!), but it was beyond them to adjust as new information came to light and situations changed. Maybe they served their own interests...

Yes, it is awesome that enough Americans are finally over it and were willing to elect a person of color.

Now, we must forget that. We cannot judge President Obama on that. We must hold to him (as we should to all) the most rigid yardstick - he hasn't earned his place in history just because of that. We have placed our hopes in his administration and the new congress (no president can run amok), but we have to hold him to task if needed. And support him as needed. And question him as needed.

The sad thing I think is, no matter how marvelous he could end up being, I am guessing he'll be a one-term president. Unless he's got a magic touch I don't even think he has. The economy, our international standing, the housing sector, and the job market are all shit. Our dollar is shit. We are in more quagmires than we ever should have been, the Middle East is blowing up again...to get out of all of this is going to hurt. Our lifestyle in this country is going to have to change. We're going to see the international front get worse before it is better. There will be one person blamed for what is to come. And I hope that if he pulls it off, he doesn't get hurt for it in 4 years...but I don't think anyone can pull it all off.

Good luck, President Obama. You are going to need it. You have made history today...may you make history in your actions 10 times over that. May you lead this country to a better place than it is now.

Tubs of Clothes

2009-01-19T21:25:00.002-06:00

I put another big tub o' clothes for H in the basement this afternoon...we're keeping sterilite in business.

Some summer 12-18 month, all the Fall 12-18 month clothes. Winter 12-18 month (she tends to change sizes 1/2way thru the season), all the 12-24 month socks (yes, she's up to a size 7 shoe!), all the bibs (she has refused them for like 5 months), tons of pjs...and some beautiful dresses.

Now her clothes look like little kid clothes. The ones in the tub look like baby clothes. Now I have to offer her two choices of shirts and socks - she's not the passive little one I'd scoop up in my arms, carry to the closet, see what I was in the mood for and dress her up. Now, she will howl if she wants the polka dot coat and I show her the purple one. Her socks don't look like booties anymore.

I felt a sentimental twinge when I carried that box down the stairs. Much more than the last box I stored. Maybe it's the talking, the opinions, the running, the climbing, the fast mastery of the buttons on the DVD player as of late. Maybe it's the fact she knows all her body parts, and is quickly learning her colors (the better to reject my clothing choices!), and knows all but the obscure animals.

But about an hour after I took that box down, I realized something...I look forward to the time with the kid that fits in these 2T tops and has the opinions that she can share way more than I miss the baby that is in those boxes downstairs.

Chez (In)Sanity's Furnace

2009-01-19T09:59:00.002-06:00

It's out. It's getting cold. Slowly.

Thankfully, P is home for the holiday...so, to honor MLK, he's down there opening and closing intake pipes to get this thing to churn out a few minutes of warmth before it trips again. We know what's doing it, but can't get it fixed.

No tech till at least after lunch.

We've been able to maintain at about 65, but I think that's not going to last too much longer.

Peanut is scheduled for a makeup Gymboree day at 11, so that's good.

It's a high of 18 today, so there's a lot of room to drop.

When is Spring scheduled? Get that groundhog on the phone...pronto. He's got an opportunity to make a large cash donation off of me...if he's willing to see the wisdom in an early spring this year.

Jim Cantore & The "Uber" in Uber-Peanut

2009-01-13T19:08:00.005-06:00

You know it is either a really slow weather day...or really truly wicked cold...when Jim Cantore turns his back on hurricanes, blizzards, tornados and all the other disasters he likes to stand in front of....to cover the cold.

And you know you are going to be miserable when he's standing in front of your skyline. And you have next to no socks.

And, I haven't used the term "uber-peanut" in awhile...but she still is truly an uber-peanut...today, I broke down and bought her some capris and tops for spring/early summer (I had a gift return that I had credit for, 'kay?! I know - I went against everything I stand for re stores and obscene seasonal stocking practices)...and I bought my 21.5 month old Chinese daughter a 2T top. Yes. That's a 2T for y'all - I didn't mistype. And it's "just there" now. So, my 2 year old Chinese daughter will need a 3T top for this summer.

I will be the shortest person in this house some day. I know it. The only question is will I have to wait until she hits puberty or not.

H is Better...and More Damn Snow???

2009-01-12T14:23:00.003-06:00

H is doing much, much better now. She's good once she gets the meds in her. I know in her life I'll see a lot worse, but I hope not for a long time!

We're supposed to get more snow. It's in the top 10 ever for cold and snow here...2 top tens!...I thought it shouldn't snow if it's bitter cold! We're supposed to have a high of "1" here Thursday! Bleck.

We even have a blizzard warning tonight...like being dumped on again isn't enough?

Sooooo...where am I going to put the snow?!?! The plow has made our front yard his personal dumping ground for the circle...it goes 1/2 way up our yard!

From the front...do you see the tree the "top" of the pile is next to? That's about 6 - 7 feet high!

From the driveway...this goes back, what...10 feet? It won't melt till June! Where is another 6 inches from our street going to go? I can't even load the snow from the driveway on top anymore!

I wish H would actually wear her snowpants, and winter gloves I bought her - this is a snow fort opportunity like I haven't seen in 20 years! A shovel and some determination? We could have a whole vacation home built in there!

Phhhoooey - just got an email that Chinese class was cancelled tonight. Not that I really wanted to drive in it! But I will miss the practice.

Socks & Juice: The Banes of My Existance

2009-01-11T07:09:00.002-06:00

I'm again tired and cranky...so, I'm bitchy again...

I've had it with socks. Y'all crazy tree-hugger people who insist on wearing socks with your Birkenstocks? I don't get it...you've committed to the crazy of wearing sandals thru the snow, so why do you put up with socks? I'm convinced that socks are a giant marketing ploy that garners tons of cash for the clothing industry: Kids socks? Like you don't lose those constantly? All socks: Really, seriously? Why do they cost so stinkin' much? It's a tube that's been sewn shut at one end. And the quality usually sucks.

I've bought socks at Ko*l's, target, E**ie Bauer, J Ji**, all those kinds of stores...dept stores, discount stores...egad, specialty stores. And they all suck. Do you know how many pairs I've thrown away in the past week? 4. Yes. For me alone. I refuse to touch P's socks. He can wear them till there's no elastic and more holes than sock, I've given up that fight. I had one pair I'd worn 3 times...yes, 3 times that busted a hole in the toe. And I had to (sob) throw out a pair I hate to admit I spent $15 on from Garnet H*ll cause they had some chasmere in them...and they were gray with turquoise polka dots (I love them dots)...I had them less than a year.

So, let's see, the mark up is like 700%? And the good ones last as little time as the cheap ones? Hummmmmm....I bet the good socks all go to Paris or something. I'm about to go reverse-Birkenstock....my $$$ men's dress shoe look shoes with NO socks.

How do you like that, sock-mafia?

Same for you, pillow industry....I'm on to you too...once I take down the Sock Gambinos...I'm coming for you.

And juice? Seriously? Sick kid...needs hydration (ok, maybe it's the pedialyte)...I don't think there's any tile left in my house that isn't covered in a sticky goo...why doesn't the pedialyte come with a complimentary mop?

I'm Cranky, and I Sadly Don't Drink Coffee

2009-01-09T06:58:00.005-06:00

From yesterday...H ended up really ill from an ear infection, so it's not as polished as I can get it, but here it is...there's some fluff, and some points that are really rolling around in my head...work, family, etc. All I know is, after yesterday, feeling H spike to 103.2 in my arms, glazed over like I've never seen her, don't ever tell me that an adoptive child is different in your heart than a bio child. I never personally questioned it, but I've never, ever felt my heart break like that.

OK, I'm downgrading my normal lyrical prose to bullets, cause I'm tired, cranky, and I don't drink coffee, so there's no way my mood's going to improve for a few hours...

Why I'm whiny:

My inability to sleep past 4:40 this morning.

My daughter's constant post nasal drip, that is from the illness she had before Christmas.

My daughter's coughing fit at 4:45 this morning.

My own inability to put the last nail in the coffin of this hideous bug we all have had. It should have at least had the kindness to make me sick enough to lose a few pounds.

My husband's snoring, which has been getting worse, and has been added to by the death cold. Which he doesn't believe in, cause he doesn't hear it.

My daughter's inability to be unattended (i.e. mama cook her scrambled eggs while she watches noggin) for 2 weeks now. I remember when we were "getting better" about this...

Husband's desire to have full volume discussions in the upstairs hallway at 6:35 in the morning.

This unending cold. Why didn't we decide to live in Miami? It'd still be out of the immediate reach of the IL's. And the snow. Oh dear Gawwwd, the snow. I've had my picturesque days...I'm done.

I have four shelves in a cabinet in the kitchen now that the kitchenette/bar is done in the basement...empty! Empty for H's use (and additional food storage useage), but have had no time to clean them and stock them...so this morning I still almost knocked over our good bowls to get to the sippy cups. Oh yeah, and that "hey, we're really lucky people, let's use the severence money P got, seeing as we've been blessed with him getting a new job so quick."...and then blowing the budget! But we knew that was coming the moment I said the words to my husband: "Glass Tile" and "Murano Glass Shades"

The time I've wasted on getting myself demoted down to "honored guest" at SILs wedding. I'm glad I'm out of it, but it was hours of discussions and emails (you know, don't blow up the whole family dynamic if possible - for some reason I want H to have a relationship with these whackos if she wants it) will never be gotten back. I even now dread the time spent getting H ready for this. And when I showed SIL a dress on ebay that was beautiful and very very reasonable? She said "if you want to do it cheap/used as long as H doesn't rip it off and it looks good, I don't care." Ummmm...it was new. And she insists on a plain blue sash at H's waist. I have found beautiful dresses, but most have something at the waist, to make it cute. I found a beyond amazing dress that would be made in China on ebay, 59.99 plus 39 shipping. But, it had a (god-forbid) beautiful waist detail and beautiful bow.) No, we have to put the crappy blue strip around her.

The fact that I'm stressed about this adoption, and getting "in line". They are telling us it's going to be way faster than we thought, so why am I so antsy to hit the one-year till you can file again mark? Am I that Type A? Don't answer that, please.

My cat's refusal to be brushed. She apparently rather puke every 3rd day.

My indecision-ness about Happy Workland. I was all set: go one day a week, my mom watch H. Perhaps 2-1/2 days at daycare for socialization and then I work at home. I get defined hours on and off (instead of this constant monitoring the email), and money, H gets socialization, and I get time out of the house. Yeah, then mom's job description changed, and she can't commit right now - then tomorrow, she can. Then the next day, she can't. Now, customer has been really annoying the past 3 weeks. Happy Workland (for all the whining I did, it was a happy place amongst a lot of the coworkers) has been apparently sucked into an abyss of suckiness by the slowness of everything, and the need to lay off 2 people, and the laying off of my lackluster assistant human. Morale is in the tank. Now that we're working on Taiwan, and we're looking at middle of next year, do I want to get back into it for a year and a half. Cause you know there will be no way, and no desire, once I've got two crawling over my lap...

The fact that I think middle of 2010 is "quick" for anything shows how warped China made my sense of linear time.

The fact that I am considering forfitting a year and a half of even small amounts of pay for something a year and a half away.

That I'm still believing that time tables quoted are what happens.

The fact that we have to do our post-placement with our old agency, and they are going to stick us apparently with the one SW we have never met...but they won't let us use our new agency (and hand us a few hundred $ back for the non-service), because they are controlling...well...you know. Let's see, who has seen H more? The woman working with us now for the last 4 weeks, or someone I never met in 3 years? Who would give a better quality report to China?

Both P and I forgot to do dishes last night.

Jack's Big Music Show's producers/the guy that pushes the play button don't understand the concept of "rotation".

To temper this list of suck, here's some things that have been cool, cause in my old age, I hate the idea that I'm a cranky old hag at the age of 34...though it paid off for George Carlin. I don't think I have his ability to deliver it though...

H has finally decided that she thinks using forks and spoons is cool. It's been a messy week her, but it's an awesome step my child has taken, especially considering how far delayed her motor skills were back in February.

Our new SW is great. She's practical, not one of those your-adopted-kid-will-hate-you-for-1001-reasons-it's-inevitable kinda SWs. She doesn't make you do stuff 20 months before you get your kid to prove you are ready for said kid. She's nice, and talkative, and forthright.

Our old could-care-less-about-you China agency has stopped accepting ALL IA applications apparently. I think they are going to shut down, which would suck for the people waiting. I guess the plan to push Lithuania as their next big program failed...who would have thought? In the long run, those waiting, might be better served by a handoff agency. Really, folks, they stink on the placing part. The only totally awesome person is the guy in China, who's getting screwed by this.

Our old SW who chastized you for being high-maintenance when you held her feet to the fire for not being there to take your call...at the time she told you to call...she's retiring. A lot of people jumping ship over there, another sign the end is coming.

H gives hugs now...real, jump in your lap and throw her weight into it hugs.

How beautiful our new kitchenette in the basement came out, and my new Electrolux oven down there that I got...now, if I had time to bake H cookies in it. It's something every baker should have. We've added a lot of value to our house, and made a wonderful area down there.

My husband's equally wicked sense of humor about things. When things like the SIL crop up, it could turn ugly between a lot of spouses, and I know it hurts him what they do a lot of the time. But he is able to look at the dark humor in it too. It's gotten us thru a lot together.

We're Alive...

2009-01-01T21:56:00.003-06:00

Did y'all have a good Christmas? And a good New Years?

Well, Christmas was good. It wasn't the Rockwell-esque event I had apparently hoped for (I didn't even realize it was what I was hoping for!), but I had my family, my husband, and my daughter, so nothing could have topped that. Well, if we had not had sickness being passed between us as freely as good will is supposed to be this time of year! We committed to doing too much, and that put H (and me) behind the ball with being tired etc, but she was really a trooper. She didn't get the charms of Christmas presents till Sunday - then it all clicked, and she was a ripping machine! She is a cookie fiend - I had to stop her on many occassions! But, the real meals? She wanted nothing to do with them.

New Years was better, in a way! We went to a neighbor's house like we always do, and H made it to 9:15, then we brought her home to sleep in her own bed...she wanted nothing to do with the pack n play at the party. She was cruising around the house in her little fleece snowflake pjs, eating chips and cannolis, and playing, checking in for snuggles and giggles. And I remembered last year when we were begging, cursing, anything, to get our agency to send back H's LOA after 4 weeks! We were facing New Years Eve 2008 not knowing when we were going to get the little girl whose picture we had worn out by staring at it. We were at the same house, with the same people, choking back the tears as every person asked us when we were going to go get H. Last Night, I got to watch her carefully go up on tiptoe to reach into the tortilla chip bowl, and turn around and grin at me that she pulled it off. I had to stop myself from a tear of joy.

I won't even get into the whole SIL thing....I'll recap it when it's all over and done with and the atomic fallout has been measured...it's obscene at this point. It's going to become MAD at some point. No, it already has.

Saturday is our last HS meeting for meimei. I'll be so glad when it's over. We both really like our SW, and it's a pleasant process, but we just want it moving! We want to be on the list.

Happy 2009 everyone. I have to go sleep off the fact that I made it to midnight last night!

PS Thanks for voting. It was fun.

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

2008-12-21T21:26:00.003-06:00

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...

2008-12-18T20:54:00.002-06:00

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

2008-12-14T21:26:00.003-06:00

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

2008-12-12T14:50:00.003-06:00

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...

2008-12-03T15:26:00.003-06:00

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

2008-12-02T13:14:00.002-06:00

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.

Odd Sightings From The Weekend...

2008-11-30T21:03:00.003-06:00

It was a weird, weird weekend...too much family (each event good, but I just can't take 3 events in 4 days!), too many house projects, and I actually hit a few stores (with my mother - egads, what was I thinking?!) on Black Friday. I must be officially insane...must repeat my mantra...online is best. Online is best. Online is best.

I'm driving back home from the post office. In front of me is a mazda or other off-brand late model SUV sporting out of state, yet still cornfed, plates. Inside, 3 middle age, corn fed people. A man is driving, the other 2 are woman. As I follow them, the one in the backseat, for a good 15 minutes, rummages thru a bag and every 30 seconds or so holds up what looks like pretty skanky lingerie...bras, undies, nightgowns etc...all see thru, and cheezy looking - sparkles glistening etc. Really? Who buys that much at once? Who feels a need to go thru it in a car with someone who is not a spouse in the car? Or, if shopping with your girlfriends, not with the husband in the car. Something about both being there makes it creepy to me! I followed them until they turned into the local mega-church. Cause that's what I do - rummage thru lingerie on the way to church...I'd at least wait till after. Otherwise, your libido cools down while talking to the pastor, unless you've got a weird fetish...one I really don't want to hear about.
My child, who won't eat "real" turkey, apparently, but horked down spicy pumpkin pie and really tart homemade cranberry sauce.
A woman who tried 3...yes, three credit cards at Gymboree before she found one that wasn't over limit. Ummmm...maybe you shouldn't be popping for 35 dollar sweaters and 25 dollar shirts for a munchkin that's going to grow out of them in a relatively short time if you are that overmaxed. Didn't anyone learn anything from the last 4 months?!
A woman standing outside of a adult themed-store in an outlot shopping area...with a small child, say, about 8, looking and pointing at the santa-themed underwear in the window and holding the child's hand. Really? You take your kid for shopping for Daddy's after-hours present?! I'm all for nookie under the tree, and indulging Ward's fantasies, and I'm all for teaching The Beav about sex...I just don't think this is probably the best way.
My mother in Baby Gap with me, pitching a fit that "oh my dear God" (yes, she, the religious one can take the name in vain) "who would dress their child in this?! They shouldn't be parents!" (OK, this is normal for her at this point)...holding up long johns in 2 tone blue and the light blue in a print of skulls and crossbones. Looks like it's for the elementary school set. Then, as I almost pick a fight with her just to do it, I see a woman about 7 feet away looking at my mom with open disgust and contempt - holding those long johns in her pile of to-be-purchased. So I don't pick a fight, cause, well, my mom is allowed to her opinion, as much as the lady who decided that she would buy them. Then, 5 minutes later, when she thinks we've moved on, I see the ultimate act of shopping lemming-ness - she sheepishly moves over to the rack and puts them back. Hey lady...if you like them, buy them - why the hell would you care what my 61 year old mother thinks?!
My step-mother standing in her dining room with a pile of puppy-pads that she has left over...for me to put around H on her precious ivory wool carpet "in case she's a food thrower". The same woman who currently has 2 dogs and 2 cats in the house. The same woman who at one time had 2 dogs and 5 cats in that house. I give her some credit (maybe it's the stuffing she plied me with...), when I said it was ok, she didn't push it.

Anyways. Hope everyone had an awesome Thanksgiving. I leave you with one cute pic of the Peanut in her Thanksgiving Day dress...

Apparently, My Kid Would've Committed Fraud

2008-11-26T19:11:00.003-06:00

So H and I decide to do what any sane (har) people would do on the warmest morning of the last 15 days...we decide to drive 30 minutes (and then 12 minutes more trying to follow the crappy directions to the building) to get mama's child abuse fingerprinting, so I can prove I haven't done any heebie things in my past. Cause the other 3 sets of prints I've done for this new adoption won't prove by themselves that I'm an upstanding citizen. What a fun morning!

It was at this totally weird bus station company. I get there and there are 2 child care worker people waiting. H is clingy, cause it's a new place, and well, it's creepy. And they have a sign on the wall tracking injuries, accidents etc for the company...a whopping 3 days since an accident! Woohooo. Maybe I'll drive my kid when she gets to school age. Anyways, I digress.

So, we get to our turn in about 10 minutes. H wants nothing to do with seperation from my hip, of course. So I clean my hands, then pull a chair over and set her on it, hoping she'll sit. She won't. So I stand her on it and wrap my arm around her chest, holding her to mine, thinking I'll switch sides when I have to switch hands for printing...

The fingerprint lady flips out. Says it's not safe. I said, I have her in my arm. She says no...cause I can't touch H while they fingerprint me, from beginning to end. If I do, they will void my prints.

Yeah, cause my 20 month old will commit identity fraud. She's going to slip her little fingers in under mine and give me a free and clear print. How stupid do people get when they follow The Rules?!

So, she stood there for 3-5 minutes screaming her head off, tears rolling, cause the lady made me stand a foot away from her. Wouldn't even let her wrap herself around my leg. Nice, huh?

I'll send them the bills for her therapy when she gets older.

Christmas Lights?!

2008-11-24T14:38:00.003-06:00

Seriously...really? Apparently there are hundreds of people in the Western-Suburbs-of-this-great-city-that-I-like-to-use-the-airport-but-rarely-visit that feel that because Target and Walmart have had their light displays up for 4 weeks, it's ok to decorate for Christmas. (I don't say the Department Stores - I'm sure they are decorated - but no one shops at them anymore.)

I'm an obnoxious Christmas elf. My husband will roll his eyes at me as I make him take the Christmas tree out on Friday. I will usually bake myself into a tizzy, and bring home more ornaments for the tree that already takes 2 weeks to decorate. I've thought of adding a room behind the dining room so I can put up another tree. I've already scoped out our new bar/kitchenette in the basement, trying to figure out how I can decorate it. So, don't call me a Grinch (another fav I can't wait to show H).

But, put quite simple folks: You cannot leapfrog holidays. Yes, that goes to you too, Walmart (evil creature that you are)...you cannot go from Labor Day to Christmas. It is an insult to the holidays inbetween. It'll also make me gouge out my ears, cause I like a good round of Feliz Navidad in all it's 60's hokiness...the first 1,237 times. After that, I take the nearest lit reindeer and bludgeon someone with it. You must give Halloween and Thanksgiving their due.

I don't care if a store or any commercial entity puts "Happy Holidays" vs "Merry Christmas" in their sales fliers. And if some Christian gets offended by the first? Lighten up. And if some Muslim get offended by the 2nd? Lighten up. They could all tell you to just "Come, your family won't love you unless you go over the top with gifts". But claimjump Thanksgiving? I will with reckless abandon boycott you!!!

Do you have Christmas parties before Thanksgiving? NO. Then don't put that damn wreath and those icicle lights up on your f***ing house for another 3 days! Hell, the blow-up Turkey (the only blow up I have, but I love the kitchy of it, with his tail bobbing in the wind...for 3 days! Only 3 days folks!) doesn't go out in our front-yard till tomorrow! If it had been 60 here, I would have given it to y'all who were out there yesterday. But it wasn't. It's supposed to be the same, or warmer over the 4 day weekend.

Stop. Back away from the spiral light Christmas Trees and the Snowflake Projector...or The Gingerbread Man gets it.

Sorry, Sorry, Sorry...and, we're on the rollercoaster

2008-11-20T14:24:00.003-06:00

Sorry to all 3 of you out there! I know, I should have posted already!

H did great with her surgery - even woke up without a scream. She still wasn't happy when they took her away though - even with the relaxer they gave her - she gave a good fight. When she woke up, we had her in P's arms, thinking she'd wake up fighting. She jerked up a few inches, looked around dazed, rubbed her eyes, fought to sit up, then looked around for a few minutes. She saw her stickers on the table, reached for them, then reached for me. She got bored and wanted to leave.

One interesting thing happened: I was carrying her around, trying to entertain her until we could leave, and she was watching us and other's speak - very intently watching mouths move. She all of a sudden pushed my hair out of the way, and jabbed me in the right ear about 3 times with her index finger, and a quizical look on her face. She knew something had been done, and seemed to be asking for a detailed and concise explanation!

In other breaking news, we've finally been pushed thru pre-cert by our new agency, and we're awaiting the packets to come in the mail, so we can start the HS for our adoption of A from Taiwan. Thankfully, we don't have to redo our FBI prints that were done back in July!

Life's never boring is it?

Now, I want to get to the holidays - I love Thanksgiving till Christmas! And I want to get dug into A's paperwork, so we can get that done and over with (is it sick that I'm a paperwork fiend? I love getting it done and feeling like I've gotten something accomplished...I missed my calling for corporate mid-level management!), and start the wait...Then, we get to set up somewhere during that process, the last post-placement for H with that agency and then kiss them a fond farewell. Also, a few days give or take around Christmas, we hit that make-believe holiday for H - the one where she crosses over that imaginary line and is with us longer than she was in the SWI. Somehow, that will make me feel all warm and fuzzy...

T-minus 7 days till The Feast. All I can say: Step-mom's sausage cornbread stuffing. I can forgive everything that happened with that whole back story just cause she makes that stuff. And Dad's wine-injected turkey. Seriously - how did we eat turkeys before they main-lined a nice spatlese? I only hope that H will eat a turkey that doesn't come out of a bag from the lunchmeat counter!

I'm Counting On Y'all...

2008-11-12T15:44:00.002-06:00

P is 1/2way across the country, and I'm starting to really freak about H's surgery...

The good news? It's at 7am. The bad news? We have to be there at 6.

We had the pre-op physical today...amazingly, she didn't vomit, though she came close. She had a fever last weekend, doc thinks it might be from another ear infection brewing.

The good news? This has confirmed to me that I shouldn't chicken out of putting H under the knife. The bad news? Any fever, and they pull her from surgery, and we have to wait about a month, with the holiday and all. The good/bad news? I picked up ANOTHER perscription for ANOTHER antibiotic this afternoon...(that's 5 rounds of 4 different meds in the last few months)...

I laid in bed till after midnight rolling the whole "what if's" thru my head. She went down like a rock...too bad I didn't.

I'm tired, and stressed, and can't stand the idea of one more earache/teething pain fueled-whine fest tomorrow. I'm sooooo tired. I know P isn't home till dinner time when he's here, but this is so much harder with no break. And work has things that need to be done too...

I'm dreading Friday like you wouldn't believe, and I also can't wait for it to come...at least P will be home tomorrow night...late, but at least he'll be home. I just want it to be over.

Thank you for listening to my own whine-fest. Thank you for your consideration...

Why I Work at (Small) Happy Workland

2008-11-10T14:41:00.003-06:00

P left his old job at the used-to-be-technology-leader back at the very tail of June. He started his new job at safety-technology-company in August. It's now November.

We got on Saturday ANOTHER mailer from UTBTL company for HR benefits stuff. Not the "you still might have your now-puny 401k with us" kinda statements stuff, which I would understand. No, we get things about re-enrollment for 2009. We get things about anti-smoking programs. We get things about how to earn more points at the gym.

Har!

Seriously? They've laid off over 30% of their world wide staff. That alone, the money in mailers could probably bail their sorry asses out of the pits. No one has noticed that these people aren't in their employ anymore?

I will never ever work for such a large company. The beaurocratic stupidity is mind-numbing.

I told P, my guess is, we won't stop getting mailers until they spin out their one profitable division to live on it's own, and the rest of the parent dies a long, CEO-benefiting death.

One Last Political Post...

2008-11-08T21:04:00.003-06:00

Anything to keep my mind off the little girl with the big fever sleeping upstairs in her crib...

Things I would like to see change in our political world:
1. The electoral college: It's an outmoded concept. Computers folks...we can count all the votes now.

2. Winner-Take-All-States: Obama won by approx. 10% over McCain. Why did he have over a hundred more electoral college votes? Winner takes all states...again, we can count on more than our fingers and toes now with them new-fangled computer-thingys...We can't handle splitting 50 states' votes, if we have to keep the EC?

3a. Reporting. Seriously. I was screaming at the TV using nasty words in front of my daughter. How the hell can you call Kentucky with 8% of the vote in? I mean, yes, we all "knew" that it would go Rep., but from a mathmatical standpoint, it's not a viable call! And how the hell did they call Vermont (Or was it NH?) with literally "0%" of the vote tallied? That means that they had one precinct that voted, didn't roll the percent-o-meter over to 1%, and they called it.

3b. Reporting stunts: The fancy schmantzy rotundas...and oh dear Gawd, the ice map. Seriously? and with 3a above...do y'all remember calling the last two elections too early? I was hoping someone would have to go out there, chisel Indiana out of the ice, repour it, and restain it.

3c. The Heisenberg Principal of Voting: I would, if I could make one change to this process, stop ANY and ALL reporting of election results until all polls in this country are called. We can live for 6 hours without knowing. We could watch reruns of X-Files or something instead. I have a hypothesis: the constant 24 hour thing changes elections:
a. If you know your guy is "really really winning" (with 8% being reported as a final call), you may not take the time to stand out there and wait to vote. You figure "it's in the bag", so why not go get that pizza instead?
b. If your guy is really losing, same thing...what's the point?
c. If you live on the West Coast, and a or b above, why vote? (Apparently for silly props out in CA, but that's another post for another time.)
We know that elections can come down to the wire. There can be a time where Wyoming will decide an election. But by reporting 3 time zones before their polls close, you can alter the behavior of the people who are still waiting to vote. It can also force people to get out and vote, if they see their candidate losing, and want to help change it. But, I think the observation of the election changes the election. I admit, it's probably minor at the national election level, a lot being negated by the electoral college and winner take all, but I think that causes more distortion at the local level. But, minor has changed elections recently. I wish we would stop this practice. Leave it to a big surprise at the end....

I am proud of America though. We got out there, a hell of a lot more of us used our voices. Now we have to keep using our voices to guide the people we are sending to Washington...to keep them honest. And I hope we've inspired the people who didn't speak up on Tuesday to consider it next time.

My Baby Girl's Hurting

2008-11-06T22:13:00.003-06:00

We've been fighting an ear infection for quite awhile now with H. We've fought ear infections since the day we got her (she came to us with a double one.).

Her speech is not progressing as fast as her other skills. She's been on 4 antibiotics in the last 2 months for this...

Her left ear will not drain at all. Nothing we do will get it to knock it back at all.

She's teething at least 3 teeth, and I'm guessing some 2 year molars are starting early too. She's got this wicked ear thing. Add on top of it that every time she goes to a doctor, she vomits. A lot. She gets wickedly upset.

This next week is going to be horrible...with all the pain she's in, and knowing that we are now counting down to getting ear tubes next Friday. I'm terrified of her going thru this. I know it's for the best, but I'm scared for her. I'm scared of how scared she's going to be. Plus, she has to have a pre-op physical too. Poor kid, every Wednesday for 3 weeks now, she's been in a drs office. This week? They had to get house-cleaning she was so sick, to clean the carpets.

If y'all can keep her in your thoughts next week, that'd be cool.

Stop The Ringing In My Ears!

2008-11-04T13:10:00.002-06:00

Oh, wait, that was the phone for the last two weeks...

Hey, Jim, Steve, and annoying lady with annoying voice, only 2nd in annoying level to Sarah Palin...I know your answering machines need a retirement fund too, but, does that paying them to call me up constantly shit really get you any votes? Like I have nothing better to listen to than that prerecorded drivel...

Especially you, Jim. If you hadn't figured it out when you weren't put in after the Ryan sex scandal (oh, how my husband wished his wife was more at play in that one!) took him out of the primary, and they instead picked a crazy out of state black guy to run instead of you, who was runner up...well, that tells me that your own party knows you better than we ever want to. You can't hand out enough ice cream to buy a vote, it seems. How many elections have you tried now? Hummmm...at least 3, I know more, but don't want to use brain cells. Run for county coroner next time, then give up dude. Ironic that you are still running for your first position, but the person you wanted to go up against in the general that first time around is probably going to be President. Does this tell you about you mass appeal? I'm sure your a nice enough guy, but, just go do something that makes you happy, and makes better use of your millions.

I voted. Actually, H pushed the big red final button, cause that's a big deal to her. She and I have done our duty. P did his duty at 6 this morning.

No stop calling my phone and start doing your jobs. Jeeez.

I'm an Anti-Prayer Warrior

2008-11-02T11:30:00.004-06:00

Really?! Seriously?! Y'all are praying down in FL on the capitol steps (hello, seperation of church and state...it benefits you too, you know - you haven't been forced to go to temple or another faith either, you know?!)...two questions for you, on this eve of Voting Day Eve...

1. Do y'all really think that a God, whatever form he takes, really gives a rats ass about the election being held in this country, one of many countries, one that probably has been given so much already and likes to piss so much away? Don't you think he'd rather be helping people who haven't had rain for a year? Or at least people who's country has been fu***ed up by an invading force?

2. Don't y'all think if he really didn't want abortion to happen, he'd make it so our simple human minds couldn't figure out how to do it?

3. How many of y'all have done something that REALLY SERIOUSLY makes a change that can help with this "problem"?? How many of you who think this is the worst thing in the world have decided to, and offered to a mother, terrified of the situtation she's in, to PARENT that child she's carrying? Not a large percentage, is my guess...at the crazy church down the street, whenever your peeps parade with nasty banners and pictures, I sure as hell don't see many parents with babies that don't look like them. Granted, people can do DA within same race, but there's a large Latino population town not two towns over, so you'd think you'd see one or two Hispanic babies if all these people adopted these babies that shouldn't be aborted. How many of you have worked to change the societal reasons that cause people to not be able to keep their children?! Lack of decent wage, lack of jobs, increased SEX EDUCATION, lack of general education, lack of outreach assistance to people who need it, outreach to kids born to parents in desperate situations - to break the cycle, etc etc etc...

That's what I thought.

Edited to add, reminded by Nyt's quote...I've long protested to Real-Life friends who are willing to listen to me: You will not overturn Roe v. Wade. Period. You can make it obsolete by changing other things to make abortion an option that isn't used very much. I don't see it as the end all be all sin, but I personally imagine the pain that the mother and family goes thru. Change the rules to make DA more airtight for the AP's...which will make more people claim that the birthparents aren't protected. But it is one big ass catch-22, but the state has to decide what they want the goal to be, and work towards it, a piece at a time...cause right now, the system sucks. But that doesn't dissuade me from pointing out most of these protesters have never thought of opening a home to a child to "save" it from abortion.

Make change in your home towns folks, before you bother a higher entity and make him do your hard work...you gotta make the little changes to change the big picture.

Please, if you agree with me. Vote. If you disagree with me. Vote. Don't vote on this one issue though. Make this country's representation a representation of what every one of us thinks.

The Cuteness

2008-11-02T11:27:00.002-06:00

Here y'all go...hope everyone had a fun and safe Halloween...I for one, actually enjoyed it.

The Green Bean Conundrum

2008-10-31T15:13:00.002-05:00

H hates vegetables. OK, she really doesn't. I know it, cause I watched her eat them for 5 months before she said "I am offended by this swill you are feeding me. Take this pig food away." At least that is what I think she said...the baby translator is on backorder still. She uses them as a way to assert her independence now, I suppose you could say.

So, sometimes I can get sweet potatoes in her. And green beans...if they are fried. We get them at the amazing dim sum we go to on Sundays. She used to also hork down their marinated cucumber, but not last time...sigh.

So, she loves the deep fried green beans. I get it - you could deep fry a car tire and I'd eat it too. She won't touch a "normal" green bean, though she will sometimes take 2 bites of a raw one.

The irony of this all? 1/2 the time, she eats the breading off the beans (they are cut up so she sees them anyways in there), turns the beans around, inspects them at great length, and then eats the naked fried green bean. Ergo, it looks just. like. the. regular. green. bean. slattered. in. butter.

And my family says I'm the high maintence one...

My Perfect Home - A Dream on Cable

2008-10-30T20:48:00.003-05:00

Well, my 2nd most perfect home...do y'all watch House Hunters International ever?!?! Oh...my....Gawd...did any of you see the home down in the Cognac region? The town house in the small town? The one who's backyard was a huge hunk of green ON TOP of the city wall?!? With the view out the front of the townhouse onto the main square and the cathederal?!?

This is 2nd only to a house in Paris itself in my book. Seriously, P has to drag me away from the office windows of the real estate agents when we are in Paris. I just about passed out from envy seeing this place. And it even had a decent sized kitchen!

Third, and 4th in my book? Hummmm....I don't know what order, but I'd have to say the version of a house that my friend and I called "the rock" that we imagined we were hiding out at to avoid thinking about our pending adoptions that we imagined being in Maui...probably could never afford it, both of us paying for it in retirement, especially with the hot male massage therapists we imagined that we had hired! I've also only been to Malta once, but it was pretty sweet, so I'd say that, or Corsica, or some other Med island like that. But that would be after I saw a lot of the world, as it would be somewhat isolating.

Sometimes, it's nice to daydream!

Spiraling into a Hole of Suckiness

2008-10-30T07:10:00.002-05:00

It's even worse than we thought...it's getting worse by the day. I've got a call into some of the higer ups that a board-mate told me to contact, as she's in her 3rd adoption with this agency.

I was going thru my emails from the agent that has since departed...July 21. Yes, over 3 months ago, she told me straight out that I needed to do nothing more, and they were waiting on Taiwan, and only a few weeks more. And to be patient, this part is hard. I heard that again the end of August. I thought maybe I had read into it that our stuff went to Taiwan. No. It's right there on my computer screen. This agency is sooooooo amazingly recommended, but this lady screwed at least me, and the people cleaning up the pieces seem disorganized at best.

NOTE TO EVERYONE ADOPTING: Keep every scrap of paper, every email, every air molecule these people send your way. Keep notes on shit they don't send you but tell you, with Dates, Names, etc. I learned from dealing with the first agency that sucked. I have every email from them, and I have every email from this adoption too. At some point, you will be screwed, it's almost guaranteed, no matter how good your agency is, or how caring they seem...the only question is to what degree. Some, it may be a misplaced USCIS doc for a day or two. Others, it might be complete lack of communication with your kids SWI when info needs to be communicated. Sadly, others are ones that will disappear in the night. Nyt is right, this is a business for these people. There's ethical business people, but a lot of them that aren't, to varying degrees.

Now, they have my letter. Now they are complaining about the font size, they want me to ask for a bigger font from my dr. I told them I would clean copy it and mail it, I will not go back to them with that request, because there is nothing wrong with it. It is as big as what I am typing now.

Now, that they have my letter, they want a letter for P's deviated septum surgery in '04. Seriously, folks...he was snoring and waking himself and I up. Fine. But why wasn't this asked before? Why isn't anyone sitting down and thinking?

I have asked the agency to go ahead and push into review for us, with the caveat this next letter is coming. I have a call in, as I said. They will either step up to the plate today and tomorrow, or we will walk away.

Live for your hearts folks, but be governed by your brains. It's the only way to survive this process.

Is There Such A Thing As A Good Agency?!?!

2008-10-28T15:50:00.002-05:00

I'll preface this with the fact that I'm crying right now...so my grammer may not be the best...

I found out that the contact person that I was dealing with at the Taiwan agency (that left) was lying to me for almost 3 months...every three weeks when I emailed her to find out how preapproval was going? And she answered that they were just waiting?! They weren't waiting on anything. Well, they were...they were waiting on a letter that she never asked me for. So, she was just fluffing and not doing her job.

So, three months later? Jack shit has been done. The letter is being faxed over now from my doc, as of this afternoon. I had at least told myself that from what I understood, Taiwan had been reviewing our file, and had asked about this, and once they got this letter, it would be quick. No. It won't be.

I told the other lady who was being cc'd on everything, what happened, and asked that they expedite their process because of what their staff did. She said she'd put a note on it. Somehow I don't think that's going to do anything.

I wanted a good agency this time. I wanted people who didn't treat you like a 6 year old. Ones that didn't hold back info. One that stepped up to the plate and did what had to be done to advocate for us, and when we have a referral, advocate for our child. I guess it's not possible to find in the adoption world. I guess every agency out there realizes how desperate we are and see us with "sucker" written all over our foreheads. They are all out there exploiting us, it just varies by what degree with what agency.

I really question if this is something I want to do again. But, seeing as I'm crying about it, I guess my heart is telling me that yes, we have to go thru it to get Amelia and bring her home to us. I just don't know how many times my heart can shatter in a million pieces and I can piece it back together again.

Thanks for letting me vent.

Dude! Snow!

2008-10-27T22:09:00.003-05:00

It snowed today, for about 20 minutes.

Snow. The white, cold stuff. Snow.

In October. And we don't live in North Dakota, folks!

I'm going to be bat-shit crazy by the end of this winter, aren't I?

And, I do have to say, when your kid won't nap, you start to have weird thoughts. Like, the 478th time we've watched the Bunnytown Carrot Giving Day episode (our favorite episode)...Melvin wants to give Louise his carrot-giving-day carrot. And your pre-mom mind starts thinking all sorts of bad things that that is a metaphor for...

What I Don't Want H to Become...

2008-10-26T21:47:00.002-05:00

OK, I have posts rolling around in my head...about aspects of the China adoption community, about friends lost when a discussion could have saved it, about why we chose what we chose in respect to IA, my ongoing mother angst, all this hard stuff, I just can't bring myself to tackle...

So, I want to tell you about a girl in my local community college Mandarin class...it's mostly review for me, but at least for 2 hours a week, I'm hearing a native speaker and being forced to use it again...(I do want to tell you though, it's amazing, I swear my daughter is saying "ai ni" to me sometimes now.) This girl is the epitomy of what I don't want H to become...

First off, she lives in the next town over, and her parents must be quite well off. I consider us well off, I think we could probably describe her parents as "stinkin' wealthy"...they pull up to drop this high schooler off in an Infiniti SUV (MSRP 55,050 - I looked it up for snicks). Why is she taking this class? She wants to spend a year of school in China.

Yet, when I said my H is from Hunan, one of the more well known provinces, she asked if that was a country.

She wants to be a pilot someday. I said that it's too bad she wasn't 30 years older, cause it's not what it once was (my mother was an FA for 37 years.) She answers that it's a cyclical industry, so in 10 years, everything will be wonderful again. I tell her how some of my mother's friend's daughters that ended up as FAs too are working full time and on welfare, and every day think they are out of a job. I tell her how it's become something that no one ever thought possible. She says she'll make good money as a pilot some day. But she's never taken a lesson, or done anything to move towards this goal.

She shows up with books like "Vegans and Vegetarians in America". JessuzChrist, you have pointy canine teeth and eyes in the front of your head, child. You are a hunter. Eat a cow. Then it comes out that this is why she wants to go to China - she perceives it as a vegetarian friendly country.

She carries her expensive purse with her high end phone and IMs her friends during class, and she wears diamond studs in her ears. She has no realization of the world outside her suburb, I think she probably thinks she's slumming it by going to a non-credit community college class for this. She every week tells me to bring my daughter to class, cause she could hold her.

Oh, and about my daughter...she now also wants to adopt from China some day. I told her I don't think there will be a program by the time she's 30. I told her there will be other countries by then. She wants to do China, cause of "the girl thing."

She's one of those kids that is young and idealistic and hasn't a flipping clue about the real world. She thinks that whatever she wants, she will get, and probably has gotten that her whole life. I want my daughter to be aware of the charmed life she leads. I want her to see the world outside of hers. I don't want her to be a follower, deciding on whims that she is going to do this or that. I don't want her to be a spoiled self-centered brat.

I'm just shocked that this girl has to hitch a ride from mom in the Infiniti - I would think it would be hers already.

OK, I'm officially going to start wearing support hose with those rubber sole nurses shoes now...and chase kids off my front lawn, I guess.

Sigh...do I really want to ride this coaster again?!?

2008-10-24T10:21:00.002-05:00

OK, I think I told y'all we were thinking about it...months ago...well, months ago, we put in for preapproval for Taiwan, cause the agency we chose (sooooo not That Agency) does preapprovals on everybody now.

Well, we've waited. We've sat. We've sent off nice emails gently asking every three weeks or so. Always got a nice, "we're still waiting" answer. Till I sent one the first week of October. Nothing. 2nd week of October, 10 days later...nada. Sent a kinda pissy one a few days ago...where did you go kinda thing...got email from different woman than I've talked to. First woman? Left. Gone. Don't know the story. I just know this woman said they were investigating and following up all preapprovals. Doesn't sound good, huh?

Well, I get an email later in the day, which I totally appreciate the promptness..."we can't find your medical letter...did we request one? Did you provide one? If not, can you get one." They want an explanation of why I had a hysterectomy (I figured they would at some point.) at the tender age of 33 years...apparently, being sick of periods when you can't reproduce isn't good enough in their book. I get it. It's not common. And it was endo, so there are no fears in my mind about my ability to parent, or their view of my ability to parent.

But, I get that people who are leaving jobs don't give a rats ass, but this is people's lives! I know we signed up for 3-4 years total. That is ok. I thought A would come home when H is 4. That was perfect (yeah, I didn't learn my lesson the first time with "planning", I know). I want to know how long Taiwan was waiting for this info. I fear I'm going to be sitting here two years down the road when they close this program, and we were "close", and we think, if only we'd pitched a fit sooner.

I can't imagine getting on this rollercoaster again. I didn't sleep well last night. We're not ready for A right now, so it's not like I'm pissed off that it won't happen next year now or anything, but I can't help but fear this has pushed us so far down the line, with how long our state takes to approve HS now, post-Hague, that we're going to be screwed with Taiwan...the writing is on the wall for Taiwan, I was hoping we'd be in the queue though before it's too late. I can't queue up for China again, no matter how much I'd like to. The Taiwan program seems like a good program, and I like that A would be ethnically Chinese like H, H would have as much a biological connection to her as she could. I know, that's ironic, as I truly believe that family is only about 5% about biology in the end, but in a white family, I think that may be important to H (and A) someday. If it isn't, then it won't be a detriment, but if it is important, then A would have that connection with her to share. So I feel a very strong urgency to get this adoption started.

And of course, I can't get a letter till sometime next week, cause you know, my doc, as great as she is, isn't waiting for me to call.

Le sigh...

Do I Have Any Constitutional Authority?

2008-10-15T22:22:00.002-05:00

OK....Barack? To that corner...John? To that other corner. Stop. Just stop. My ears are bleeding at this point.

I declare this campaign season over. Three more weeks my ass. We know where the honorable senator from Illinois stands. We know where the honorable senator from Arizona stands. We get it. We know it all. We know what you believe in. We know your personalities. We know how well you can lie or fudge too (which, I posit, is an important skill for any politician.)

The election will be held tomorrow, and we'll be done with it.

I know it's time when I, political science major in college and general history/politics nut goes out for dinner with bff and doesn't remember about this debate, and come home to find mildly interested husband (think med-well interested on the steak scale) watching the debate. And as I do work email, he chatters away about everything said. I then do laundry folding...and I hear the TiVo backed up, multiple times, and angry, pissy comments out of said husband. Dude...even H knows the bunnies in the box can't hear her...when P starts talking to the talking heads in the tv, it's got to be over...

She e-mailed me pics...3rd Layer of Hell

2008-10-14T13:29:00.003-05:00

Ok, craptastic-ness continues...H got up at 5 yesterday, never to go back to bed again (didn't help when P came in to tell me he was going to work...so he wouldn't be "rude" to leave...gaaaah, I love the man, but, dude...), and today? 4am. But I got her back down at 6 till 7:30, which nets out to getting up at 5:30, so slightly better...

So, the reason I'm posting?

Evil SIL, part...what are we on? My third layer of hell?

She EMAILED ME PICS of the ring. Not shitting you. And the blankie that he laid out on the beach with the pillows (do I want to know what those were for?!). Holy crap in a bucket....how narsacisstic can she be? It's not like we hang together, email next to ever...WTF?!

Funny, no pics of FBIL at all, just what she "got".

As my husband said, when I forwarded the email to him (odd, her brother doesn't get it, just the SIL that she likes to play Jones' with, apparently), "Barf".

I do feel a smidge of pity for her...well, not really, to be honest: my ILs were saying that nothing has been planned because they are too busy. Ummmm, if she was independent, she would do it with her fiance, but whatever. Why are they too busy? FIL is putting edging bricks around their beds in their yard. That's pretty craptastic, IMHO. But, they were craptastic with us, and she was on the sidelines in her cheerleader costume rah-rah'ing them on, so let her get the same. She deserves it...finally, she gets some of the same crappy treatment at their hands that we get.

Hell, I never ever even emailed her pics of the house when we bought it. And that was a really cool thing. For sure nothing her brother ever bought me. She saw my ring before P gave it to me, they were visiting, and she saw her mother drop it like a hot potato. She never said a word about it.

I'm not jumping on that "respond" button.

I Now Know What Boiling Blood Feels Like...

2008-10-12T21:34:00.003-05:00

OK, I want to say, I had a crap week last week. Really crappy. Probably had 3 of the top 5 frustrating days ever with H, since we got home...and husband wasn't far behind. So I was crabby by friday. Period. But still, I'm thinking this is an obscene story.

The ped that she started with was the new doc in an office recommended to me. She was ok, but never laid out a plan for me to know what was coming next etc, so I started to get fed up. So I was about at my wits end, and the last time she was there (May, I believe), she said something about her urinalysis, and I said, ummmm....no, we never had one. She responded that "oh really, we always do those." Hello, you are the doc. So I quit the practice and moved to a new ped. Oh, and when I quit, it took her 5 weeks to contact me and ask me why.

So flash forward to today. I took H in to check her ear infecting on Friday. Start talking with ped#2 about the melamine that I had spoken with her about last time. Tell her I talked to FIL, who works at big fancy name-recognized clinic, who spoke with renal specialist, and he recommended: urinalysis, BUN, and crenatin (I think that's how you spell it.). So, she says, yes, I agree from the docs I've talked to..."hey, what were her original ones?!" So I say no urinalysis had been run. Then she looks at the copies of the blood work that was done. The blood work that drained my kid over multiple days. The blood work where I said I wanted everything tested. The ones where I was told that all organ function was good. I remember being told the liver was functioning well.

Ped#2 says:
"There were never liver or kidney function tests run back in March."

Yes, this fucking sad excuse for a doctor is either so inept and stupid, or a baldfaced bitch liar, and didn't do the fucking tests. So we have to do the tests now. We now with P's newer and better job have a crazy-high deductible insurance plan, so this comes all out of pocket, and dear Gawd, what if something is wrong? For 8 months I thought we had the tests that told us that H was ok.

Bitch.

They are part of a huge group of docs that keep taking over practices, oh, and yes, they still don't have an office manager that I can speak to, so I called the corporate offices (isn't that a scary term in relation to docs?), and left a message for some lady in charge of Quality Management (another scary term in relation to this.)...

So next week, poor, teething, sleep deprived H will have more stabbing and blood letting, and if I don't get answers from inept ped#1 ASAP...well, I won't stop bothering them until I get an answer. If there is something wrong, I will be in contact with a very good lawyer, and every medical board I can get to that has certified this woman.

I Shouldn't Have Looked...

2008-10-07T15:21:00.002-05:00

Why?! Why?! Why?! Well, I know why...but that would be an "I digress" in the first line of a post...and that's too fast, for even me. I'm not that much of a posting slut.

I looked at H's college fund. The one we set up this summer. The one that I am now convinced means she will never ever afford college. Egads...30% of it is gone. Poof.

Funny, all the a**holes in power (I don't believe most of them in gov't have any hand in being able to control the economy) - the CEOs, the guys at Treasury and the Fed (the ones who said they didn't see this coming, and they feel bad for it, but now give us 250b with no oversite?! Yeah, those schmucks)...they are all going to be sitting there with fat severances (there's ways around every clause in every bill), smoking 20's rolled with dope while all of us sit here and cry still, in a year or so. You know it.

And shit on a brick - one of our accounts for retirement...the big one, is also tied into that log in I used...holy shit. We're not going to be able to retire either. I'm regretting the home improvement going on right now...

Why did I do this? Why did I look? Because The Boss aka The Dad at Happy Workland has asked for a committment, a plan for my time there next year. Yes, this happy isolation is apparently coming to an end. But, aside from wanting to see the over-3-foot crowd, I keep asking myself why? I make squat compared to P, and I'm going to be working for daycare.

Though my husband's short stint at unemployment this summer scared the crap out of me. And people tell me that kids that stay at home with their boring moms don't get socialization skills they need. And they say she'll learn stuff faster if I send her to daycare. But I'm trying to justify the economics of it, cause I just can't see doing it if they aren't there.

But then I have to ask if I should use sane-person economics, or the crazies-running-our-world-economics before I decide that, huh? Cause there'd be two totally diametrically opposed outcomes with those different models.

Throw it at me folks...should I toss my kid into daycare? Or be the one that most of my neighbors are talking about when they say "you know, a lot of stay at home moms are weird...it's the isolation that makes them batshit."

The Tell-Tale...Clock?!

2008-10-03T14:18:00.002-05:00

H got a clock from Nyt when she came home...and it helps her sleep, I think. It sits on her top shelf, ticking away...and it's cute.

H's monitor has been a bit wonky since I dropped it about 6 feet out in the garage as I had it on the "chemicals" shelf, and knocked it off...now, said monitor is hyper-sensitive, and as of the last few weeks, picks up that clock, so it never turns off in the "noise-activated" mode.

So, I work furiously during naptime, real, paid work, and chores etc...with that freaking clock ticking at me...telling me my "me" time is short and fleeting.

Edgar, you've got nothing on me...

Already the spoiled-ness starts

2008-09-26T13:46:00.002-05:00

So, just to follow up, cause it's so much easier to bitch than work...

I nicely and kindly sent the SIL the requested list of addresses of family (that she sooooo wants to come to her wedding, but she doesn't even know where they live), promtly and and with a nice note attached...and even a pic of Peanut.

What do I get in return for culling the 35% of the addresses of the whole major metro area that are related to us (seriously, one big-ass family)?!? The time I took for her?!

Squat. Jack shit. No flipping thank you.

Witch.

On the other hand here, H had her 18 month checkup. She's "down" to 80%ile for height, and "up" to 60% for weight. I am royally pissed though, I brought up the melamine thing with the doc, as we did have H on Sanlu for a month (her formula she came with we could not find...Sunny Baby, and I can't find out if it is involved, even with all the awesomeness of Google). Doc basically said if the baby fails to thrive we'll look at it as a cause.

Grrrr...

And, she has a double-ear infection again...no wonder we aren't adding any more new words, or saying the ends of any of them yet! They threw out the "T" word. I hope not, I can't imagine any surgery, regardless of how minor.

The First and Second Layers of Hell

2008-09-21T21:15:00.004-05:00

Whap. Whap. Whap. Ow.

That was me beating my head repeatedly on the table. Yes, it took 3 whaps to cause pain...I'm thick-skulled.

So, this weekend has been awesome. P has been in Vegas with the boys, and I was scared of the alone-ness of being "it" for H for 3 days. Pffft. I shouldn't have worried. She's been great. Even today when she walked into the open back door of the car, and when she later put her tooth deep into her lip. She's been awesome. We've had Grandparents and friends over, and been apple picking and to dim sum (that one was Lisa's fault)...I knew it had to come to an end.

Come, join me, in the first two rings of Hell. Dante has nothing on me...I already know I'm headed down to the 9th layer, and I'm already bending over for the clusterfuck that is headed my way.

Here's the scene: I'm feeding H. Phone rings. H freaks (why she hates the phone, I don't know), I walk over, see "(state code) cell phone" and a # on the caller ID. Figure it's the IL's, forgetting that husband is not here. Figure it's a quick "hi, yeah, he's in Vegas...oh, yeah, you want to only talk to him...he'll be back tomorrow...bye" kinda call. So I pick up...

(Evil music)

It's her. Her, her...The SIL. The one who has no day-to-day. No. No month-to-month relationship with her brother, let alone me or my daughter. She wants to tell us ourselves, so that we don't hear from someone else (Ummmm...her parents are the only option...). She's engaged. Finally. She got her Southern Gentleman. (Sad, he's a nice guy. He doesn't deserve the crazy that comes his way now.)

First, a little history...
P and I got married over a decade a go. 2 weeks after I graduated. 1 year into his grad school. SIL did not stand up in our wedding. She was at the same University as us. MIL at the time decided to play a lot of mind-fuck games with P to see if he loved her and such because Gawd-forbid, he wanted to grow up. SIL decided to get involved (see, I deal with who I'm pissed at, and stay out of it otherwise, I'm funny like that), and play games too. So P decides she will not be in our wedding. My mother howls, SIL sobs, his parents pissed, his grandmother howls, he stands his ground. She is asked to be that odd assistant position. She refuses, cries, is hurt. But, she was at school with us and still never had a relationship with us.

We've patched up, we can deal with each other, the three of us. But we still just get emails only when the holiday season is rolling around, setting us up for the end-run email...well, tell me what you want, and I'll send you a list...if you want me to. Why we gift if we don't know what the others would like (implying a non-closeness), I don't know, but it would be a can of hell with his parents if we didn't. We actually call this congeniality a huge leap forward from the trip about 6 years ago his parents wanted us all on, and she managed to not talk to me for 2 weeks.

So back to the 21st century...here's the list of annoyances from this call:

We had to tell me it was a classy, timeless, huge, perfect ring with carat weight and everything. It's platinum too - so much better than your crappy ring, SIL.
She tap danced around the wedding party already. I don't want to be in it, I don't care...less work and time and money for me. We aren't close...I don't expect it. I told her straight out at the beginning "do what makes you happy, and don't do anything you feel you have to."
H is to be a flower girl of "some sort." I will be "the flower girls mommy", as she feels she won't be able to walk down the aisle alone in a year (hello, the kid can show me her shoulder at 18 months, I think she can walk a straight line sometime in '09)
P has been un-stated as to his status
She won't live with him before, even though she owns, and he is selling the place he shares with a relative, because she thinks...well, I don't know. But it's a slam on P and I, as his parents freaked when we lived together.
We had to discuss every freaking cousin and if I thought they would come or not.
She feels we should take a vacation, and leave Peanut with her (yes, the aunt that's seen her 2 days of her life). She, the one who cannot take off one day to come here for a long weekend, cause she's saving her vaca time...wants to watch her for a week. What will she do with her? Take her to work?
She was unaware that we had started the Taiwan process. She had no idea. Apparently, my ILs didn't think this was worthy enough news to tell her. I didn't, I admit. I figured I'd send her a referral pic, but you would think they would have told her as they were just here and we discussed, as they talk to her constantly. It must not be important - they are going to get the blessed child married off, and she'll reproduce for them.

Here's where my first layer of hell is:

I spent 45 minutes of pre-bedtime doing this. And my kid did hurt herself today. And...this belongs in the list above: I was told to tell anyone "I talk to". P's family is large and nebulous...we see them maybe twice a year, and you never know who you'll see. It's more a loose confederation of people. It's not my job to tell anyone. Then, in irony, she asks me to compile a list of family addresses. Ummm...I'm not in the freaking wedding!

Then, in the 2nd level of irony to the first level of hell...she doesn't have the addresses cause she stays in no contact with these people, right? Then she bitches to me that "everyone treats her like she still lives with Mom and Dad" and she "gets 3rd hand info" because they don't think she's an adult on her own. Hello?!

She takes every vacation with them
She's over there (a whopping 3 minutes from her condo) all the time
She has been overheard calling her mother "mommy" in the last few years
If there is a group of family together, and we don't decide to go eat where she wants to eat, she pitches a fit, and starts talking only to her mother, telling her why this is unacceptable, and whining.
After we visited, MIL sent us some pics from the visit (nice and appreciated)...SIL writes a note in the card - she can't send me her own note, or email or whatever. She has been known to give us gifts in conjunction with her parents.

In other words, she is still on the umbilical cord.

Here's my 2nd layer of hell:

She said she would like to come up and have a "meet FBIL (future Brother in law) and engagement party" for the family. So, I told her they are more than welcome to come for a few days. But, let's deconstruct her comment.

She wants free room and board. OK, I'll give for family peace.
She wants a ride to the other side of the city. OK, I'll suck it up.
She prefers a party in their honor. A party that would be a bitch to plan from many states away. A party that would be most relaxing in a house. A party that she expects me to have for her, in other words.

She did not come to my wedding shower. She was given a last minute chance to come. P offered to drive 1.5 hours each way to get her there and back. She didn't take it. She did not speak to me at my wedding. She is not in our lives. I will not do this. I will fly down there and be at the wedding. I will pay for a dress and walk Peanut down the aisle. OK, skip the 10+ years of history. She did not send a single gift for H for: my shower, or her homecoming.

I know something with this whole thing is going to blow up in our faces. There will be family strife again. MIL games. Sobbing SIL, because we won't do her bidding. I know there are 7 layers more to come. I know I'll end up getting a call at some point from an IL, how it would be nice to have a party for her, how we're the closest things to sisters each of us has yada yada yada. And I know, with working as much as I do now, and having H, I don't have the time to do it, let alone the patience, and even less for the bullshit that's going to fly. But I'm going to end up sucking something up. And I'm going to feel like shit for it.

Sigh. I guess I need a glass of wine.

Self-Discipline

2008-09-18T13:34:00.003-05:00

Sigh...

Yesterday, H got up when I was still furiously working, due to the idiocy of the clients at Happy Workland, so I scooped her up and brought her downstairs and asked her, cause of course I expected a 17.5 month old to comply...can mama finish two more idiotic emails?! She looked at me all indignant, of course, but then the kitchen timer caught her eye...I had made her spiced apple bread while she was sleeping (my sanity saver from this work project), and it was still in the oven.

Now, I admit, I believe in discipline from the first day. We wouldn't let H put her feet on the table in China (really the only thing she challened us on), and we're still working on that. She stopped for about 4 months, but it's back. Anyways, I digress. So, she does get timeouts. For big stuff, like clocking me with a block, throwing at the cats etc. And it's only a minute - minute and a half for the Baby-Hitler stuff. I take the timer (yeah, do you see where this is going?!), and her and I sit next to each other on the bottom stair, quietly, no smacking walls etc, though there are sometimes hideous wails of indignity of course...

So yesterday, I hand her the timer, which she has never held, praying for the ability to do these last emails. I showed her how it had 4 and a half minutes left till yummys were ready. She looked at me quizically, grabbed the timer, and darted off to the front of the house.

I jumped up, sighed about my emails and ran after her. I shouldn't have worried. She was on the bottom step, sitting quietly, with the timer in her hands, quietly tapping her feet like she does, watching it count down.

It's sad when you suspect already that your kid will be quite a bit smarter than you in less than a year. And she knew she wasn't in time out, cause as soon as I looked at her and said "no, no, no" like I do for one of her books that has that line in it, she peeled out laughing.

Side note: If my mother, who remembers nothing I tell her, asks me one more time if H is injured from the baby formula (how did she remember me saying we had to use Sanlu cause the one she came with wasn't available...7 months ago?!), I'm going to scream. There's babies to worry about, mine isn't one of them. I hope these people are dealt with as severely as the Chinese system is known for...this tainting practice and the support it has in China is a danger to too many. These people need to be made an example of. My gawd...my daughter has more self-control than the people who thought this was ok.

Bulemic Homeowner

2008-09-15T22:07:00.002-05:00

I'm the bulemic of the homeowner world...I have a need to purge sometimes. I'll go thru my house and decide there must be a trunk-load of good-will stuff and I will find it...so help me Gawd, I'll find it.

And one of the easiest ways to set off my purging, of a different sort, is to have house guests...I need to get my house back to how I had it. I don't know why, but I do. We had P's 'rents here this weekend, and I. just. need. my. house. back...

I am twitching right now that I have "only" washed their sheets, with the towels still hanging on the bars upstairs...and, and, and, I had to bathe H in the tub before I cleaned it (they only used it once, but still), as she would not take a nap today, and, the bit of time she wasn't clinging to my leg, I had to do job-work. Not that they are pigs or anything, it's just not "us." Though, I was tempted to post a picture of the faucet in H's bathroom...folks, the sponge is right there - can't you wipe off the toothpaste splatters?!?! Seriously, a bright yellow, happy looking sponge. And it's brand new, so it's not like it could give them the heebies.

And they pestered me about us coming to visit again. I asked them here for H's first Christmas...I'm off the hook. OK, here's a poll: his parents have not been to our major metropolitan area since they moved from here, back when P was in grade school. They say that it's too hard to travel over holidays...So, aren't they out-of-whack to ask us to do it?!?!

Tomorrow, I have to get the towels washed, and I have to run the dishwasher. And I have to un-mess up my fridge. Somehow things like the giant milk gallons (that only fit in one place, or so I thought for 8 years), are not where they were this morning...

But, they made the bed that had the sheets that had to be washed? Do I want to understand that logic?

We're All Safe Now...the New Uniforms Arrived

2008-09-12T14:14:00.003-05:00

Yes, folks, the GW Bush people have finally made this a safe country. I was (stupidly, stupidly) watching the local evening news last night. About the 3rd story in, they were talking about how, in honor of Sept 11, the TSA unveiled it's new uniforms, which have a new blue shirt.

Then they interviewed a few TSA people at our super-large airport. Sorry, but NOTHING has improved since Sept 11, 2001. Nothing. These are the same yahoos that, if they had done their job that day, we would not have watched the towers fall...

Anywhooooo...one of them, who can barely put a sentence together, says, and I am paraphrasing here...
"These new uniforms show how seriously we take our jobs, and how we are working really really hard to make this country safe."

Yeah, cause all terrorists are afraid of a french blue. It's like the anti-red bull cape.

Maybe if you shmucks didn't let weapons thru on a daily basis, we would take you a little more seriously.

PS Yes, Kimmons, thanks for the suggestions. We do all that stuff..., people think we're crazy at Target, and it takes us 20 minutes to load the dryer, but she finds it hysterically cool, but keep any suggestions coming please. She's a great kid, but I feel chained to the house and a life of isolation.

I'm Feeling A Bit Caged...and a fun game of "what's different"

2008-09-11T13:12:00.003-05:00

Ok, first off, let's get the nasty out of the way. H went to her first "tot rock" class at the Park District today. Once they whipped out the balls and the bubbles, she was hooked. She didn't cling (hell, she never does out in public, just in our nice, beautiful, safe house!) and sorta interacted with the others. So that was cool. The instructor was syrupy sweet, as I expected, cause who else teaches these things?! So, I was shocked when I heard, as she told us to pack up:

"Well, I should ask some of you to dye your kids' hair by next week. We have so many blondes it's hard to tell them all apart!"

OK, fine. I'm down with that. Then she continued:

"Of course, we all already know who H is."

Gulp. Grrrr. Shock. Speechlessness.

Then, I think she attempted to uninsert foot. She goes on:
"Well, not that different is bad. You're a redhead, you are probably used to looking different. It's just different, not good or bad."

I'm a redhead, and I have that temper. I'm alternating between royally pissed off, and feeling bad for this chick who's probably sweating her job if I call in on this. Would she have said this if H was from Ethiopia? Or if I had a missing limb? But I'm mad, cause the redhead thing got to me. I remember feeling like shit being the strawberry shortcake of class. I hated the taunts/knicknames. And I was "with" the majority, in my whiteness.

I want to teach H to shrug it off, to be able to tell the other people to get over their inhibitions, but obviously a 17 month old can't get that yet. I mean, WTF, why teach these 12-20 monthers to look for the Asian kid?

On to other topics....
I'm feeling a bit isolated right now. OK, a lot isolated. I miss my former life, minus the not having the awesome kid part. H is firmly down to one nap, which is cool, though she's cranky at the end of each awake period, but it makes life so much easier, one naptime routine a day. But, the nap takes up the whole early afternoon (I know, I'm biting the hand that feeds me here.), and doing anything has become a giant deal. She has a short span in the morning to do anything, maybe a run to target or some such thing up the street, or a short walk. She is irritable in the a.m., so big stuff isn't a good idea. But by the time you get her up and having her 2nd lunch, it's 3pm! And dinner is at 6.

It was cold here early this week, icky wet cold. I'm starting to dread the winter. I fear that I'm going to go bonkers locked in this house. I miss seeing adults, having adult conversations, even being able to go try on some dumb-ass jeans that are cut to sit waaaaay too low so they never ever will fit me...gulp...I miss work meetings, thinking of something else other than how to teach her to rotate the triangle to fit into the shape-sorter. I feel like I'm on a gerbil wheel of sleep routines, diaper changes and reading board books. (Which I do love, just not for 6 hours a day, cause I love her snuggling into my lap.) I work while she naps, or, if that's done, do chores. I'm at the grocery store too much (we used to go once every 2 weeks, which is not possible with a child that eats an acre of fresh fruit a day, and a husband who has no skin in keeping the shopping list up to date now that he doesn't go shopping.) I feel like I've lost the identity of anything but H's mama. I love that identity. But I want it to be one of my facets, not my only one.

It doesn't help that I have a lot of friends who are doing "their own thing" right now...one is planning a wedding, one is working so hard to find a job, and I feel for her, she's hurting bad right now. A lot are also just-homes, or painfully waiting to go. Another one has family issues. Many of them this year even didn't remember my birthday. Between their major life events and my falling off the radar of daily life, I'm sitting her kinda alone.

I know this'll pass, and a lot of you out there want to bitch-slap me for my whininess. But, it's what I feel. Even though I'm not someone y'all will ever know IRL, I try to be honest.

So, go ahead, bitch-slap me back into thankfulness...I can take it.

Uncle! Uncle!

2008-09-04T13:45:00.003-05:00

Please....stop. Please, I give in. I'll do anything, just make it stop.

Ok? You want me to admit some stuff? OK.
Agree to do some stuff? OK. I'll do that too.

I'll put the soccer ball sticker on the back of a new minivan, which I will purchase in silver, if not available in beige.

I'll put away all my cool, beautiful, hand made - and even the extravagant-easy-to-buy-and-she'll-love-it jewlery. I'll break down and get one gold plated necklace that is a birthstone necklace of my kid. I'll wear it every day, with little gold ball earrings, and that's it. I'll even get too lazy to put on my wedding ring most days.

I'll give up all my beautiful shoes and buy one pair of ugly-ass but comfy shoes. Never mind that I pay good money for my beauties so that they feel good too. I understand now.

I'll give up chocolate.

I'll grow my hair long enough to end up in a pony tail at the base of my neck. I will do no more than wash and wear it.

I'll throw away all nail polish...it only goes on my toes anymore anyways.

I'll have long discussions about the awesomeness of swiffers...or swifters, whatever the hell they are called. I'll make that my first discussion.

I will come up with some annoying phrase that I say to my kid in public when she's misbehaving, one that only further annoys the people who have had to listen to her temper tantrum already.

I agree to all of the above. In exchange, please let my one-size-bigger-than-the-rest-of-me ass find one lone pair of jeans that fit them. Even if they are mommy-jeans...I'll submit to that. I will change over to the whole loss of my own identity, if I can have one damn pair of jeans that fit me without having 10 extra inches in the waist. Just make the trauma of trying these things on stop. Hello, wasn't Marilyn Monroe built like this (if only I could have the rack to go with it!)? And Jean Harlow? WTF? Apparently no one has hips in this world anymore except me.

Where do I find a good pair of mommy jeans?

So you have to vote for someone who's not a white male...

2008-09-01T15:13:00.002-05:00

OK, I'm pissed off. I'm pissed off that this is even something that someone would think is a tactic that would win. I'm pissed off that someone would be so desperate as to pull this. If you can't win unless you do this, then, honestly, you have no god-damn right running the "leader of the free world."

Seriously? A first time govenor from AK, with no experience? And your peeps say it's because you have all the experience? (Oh, the sick hubris of that statement!) Ummmm....dude? First off, no one has one brain good enough to run this country on his own. Otherwise, we'd have had a dictatorship for a few centuries. Secondly? You are a nice enough guy, but you are in your 70's with a history of cancer. Verstehen Sie?!

But, if this is true, then the only reason you picked this woman is because she is a woman? That's sexism in a way, isn't it? You wanted to pick up the disillunsioned "hillary" vote. Pathetic. Sad. Infuriating.

And it really pisses me off that it will work with some people.

And it pisses me off that this woman, who is supposed to herald a jump is women's equality, is playing this game. That she is willing to be apparently used like this...isn't that really a step backwards for all of us bra-wearers?

Folks, it's wrong to vote for someone just because he is black or she is white or he is a paraplegic or whatever. It's just as wrong as voting for the other guy because you don't want a hispanic/gay/jewish/whatever. It's racist. It's saying that whatever this person is, whatever they stand for doesn't matter, that because of how they look, they are better than the other person. What matters is what's in their jeans and shirt - period. And that should never ever be why we pick someone for a friend, an enemy, or a President.

Shame on you McCain. Shame on you for your arrogance. And shame on all the women out there that this will work on. Vote with your eyes closed, and your mind and heart open.

The Feel of Fear

2008-08-23T21:54:00.002-05:00

Yesterday afternoon, H and I headed over to the local Italian bakery/grocery store, to stock up on her metric tons of fruit that she eats in a day...

I was picking out cherries for her, and she was in the cart next to me. As I turned around, there was a tall, thin man, in his late 30s would be my guess, long jeans on, a long sleeve shirt and sunglasses (not perscription), right there...like 2 feet away kinda thing. No cart, nothing in hand. I startled. He said "she's really a cutie." and then walked away. Mind you, it's in the mid-80s here...

I thought to myself...ok, there's an odd cookie and walked off towards the meat counter. Then I remembered we'd be bbq'ing, so I went back to the front of the produce section to get some beans. They were in a big pallet box...I'm digging thru the beans, and as I look up, he's on the next side around of the box. He smiles and walks away.

Ok, now I'm getting a bit freaked. So I walk across the front of the store, and head to the bakery to get H some kolachky. As I come around the corner, and start to pass all the checkout aisles, I see him standing there in the middle, still no food, no cart, glasses on, no one with him, looking to the left and right over and over again. As we pass him, he looks at H and says "Hi again, cutie."

I didn't know where he was when we checked out. So, I checked out, took my stuff out to the car with my keys in between my fingers. I dropped my 2 bags into the car, and took H out of the cart and walked right around the corner of the store to a fish store around the corner that services our tank at work. I know the owners, and they are big wrestler kinda guys. H and I hung out for 15-20 minutes checking out the tangs, angels, puffers and wrasses. I didn't want to be in the lot trying to wrangle a kid that's not to happy about car seats right now, vulnerable.

They guy was probably a socially awkward guy, but I didn't like it. I've learned over the years to trust that goosebump feeling on the back of my neck. I know I'm a worrywart, but I was actually scared for my daughter. I was creeped out. I was afraid something would happen to her, she would be taken away from me...it's a horrible feeling.

I called the store, told them what had happened. They said they were going to go thru the camera tapes and see if they could pick him out, to just be aware of the situation. They've earned my respect with that.

I kissed my daughter an extra 2000 times last night. I don't ever want to have to think that my daughter might be at risk again. It's a feeling I never ever want to feel again.

6 Months

2008-08-19T13:16:00.004-05:00

It's been the blink of an eye, and also forever. I can't remember life without H, but it seems just yesterday she was placed in my arms. I'm not going to go all mushy, lovey, pie-in-the-sky on y'all...I'm the realist queen. I'm a realist enough to know that my few readers who look into my brain pan to see what is rolling around are of 2 camps: 1. The ones who are parents already, and just nod their head at my posts thinking...you didn't know this already, moron?! and 2. The people who are waiting like I waited...waiting too long. And though you may not know parenthood, you obviously know in your hearts that it is amazing, otherwise, you wouldn't ride this suck-ass ride you are riding as it creeps forward. So y'all know that this is the most amazing thing I've done in my life. I wouldn't trade any of it, even for my life, if I had to. 'nuff said. She's my life, I think you know that thru my posts...

But, I would like to share with you things I've learned in the past 6 months. Of course, most of these are obvious, but sometimes I wish some people had told me these things, cause I'm kinda dense sometimes...

This is sooooo much harder than I ever thought. Seriously. Three times harder than I thought. No question. Take the worst thing you've ever seen a kid do anywhere, and multiply it by at least a factor of 3. That mom with the kid flipping out over the damn Fruit Loops in the store? The kid who flung food across the restaurant? The kid that you heard didn't sleep for 4 days straight; the vomit output that didn't sound possible for an adult?...yeah, those are the stories you hear where the parents want to scare you, but not too much so you are still crazy enough to think you can handle it.
I wish I had travelled more, and more remote. We travelled a lot. Used every vacation day to travel. Wish I had skipped London and done Cambodia instead. Wish I had taken a deficit of a week of vacation days every year to travel more. I can't wait till I can take Peanut with us. I plan the day I walk her down the Elysee with us, holding our hands. I do regret not backpacking New Zealand before she came home. I regret not seeing Peru, Cambodia, New Zealand, Egypt and Turkey before I became a parent. It will be too long until she will be able to go with us there.
Have sex in all the weird places in your house that you've seen them think up in movies. Cause you aren't going to want to try out under the kitchen table and find a cheerio in places you don't want cheerios after you become a parent. Of course, the cheerios will end up there anyways, somehow...insidious little buggers. They are the cockroaches of the cereal world. But, I digress...you will only be searching out the place that you feel is the most quiet for sleeping child. If that's under the table, godspeed to y'all.
This is also so much better than I thought. H right now is slightly resistant to hugs...it's an assertion of independence. I must ask for them too much. But when she does, she comes over to me, runs her hands thru my hair to the back and hugs my head. I could cry every time she does it. It makes up for the times I want to cry in the store when she can't have all the cereal bars and she expresses herself. It makes up for it a 1000 times over.
Kids will make up the weirdest sounds, games, humor etc. You'll never know how they came up with it. You must embrace the crazy. If you have the crazy kid who does it differently than all the others, like my H, embrace it. It's testing, but amazing to have a child that thinks for herself at such a young age. It'll take 7 years off your life, but it's amazing to watch.
The first time you see what you qualify as a "serious" injury you will learn three things: it wasn't that serious; you will very likely piss yourself out of fear, so wear Depends until it happens; they are rubbery little beings that recover amazingly well. Call the doc, even though in your brain you know you don't need to. You'll feel better.
Work yourself down to eating food at room temp. Also learn to love child-food that you hate. You will eat a lot of it. Yesterday, for lunch, I ate the soggy cereal left over from when she was done, the quesedilla (yeah, bite me I don't have a dictionary handy) she wouldn't eat, and the chopped up hot dog from the day before she wouldn't eat...on a heal of bread cause no one will eat the heel in this house. The ketchup, if applied liberally, holds those bits in place.
Go out to dinner now. Swanky dinners, exotic dinners. If your kid comes home and eats all that stuff, ride that wave as often as you can. It will end in a quick instant. One day: ecudorian food. The next day: chicken nuggets.
I have a child that will let herself starve to death over eating what you put in front of her. Seriously. That is her willpower. Jealous would be Yoda. Do not give the kid a light saber...the force is strong in her.
Go see every movie you have an inkling of seeing.
Don't look at your bank book after they come home. These kids can eat more than an adult male, I truly believe.
Don't go overboard and buy too many clothes for child. (Husband is now laughing at this point.) I spend too much time reaquainting myself with what I have and what I need to go with what I have. It's a pain in the ass.
Do go buy yourself clothes, and shoes and new undies before you get your child. Get a whole new wardrobe. Have it at home for two reasons:1. Shopping with a child is a b****. 2. It gets really tiring wearing the shorts you were already sick of when summer started.
Make sure one of those purchases is a sexy nightgown.
You will still feel like a new parent when most people look at your 17 month old child and they forget that you are new at this. You will feel out of your element around people with kids the same age as you at some point.
Appoint a friend who has kids (or is really observant) to tell you things that you should have noticed, like when your kid's shoes are too small the first time. You will not notice something. You will feel like an idiot. Having a good friend to point it out will make you feel less stupid.
Love your animals. Don't forget them in the process. O & E know when Peanut goes to bed. They know it's their time. They may not appreciate all the kisses she gives them, but they have tolerated her well. They aren't jealous, they aren't feeling neglected. They therefore are tolerant of her, and respectful of the changes in this house.
If you are adopting from another country, try to go there before you go to bring baby home. We did. The best and most amazing thing we did with our wait. I would have hated China if I had only gone last February. Having had the time to absorb and tour before, while we were waiting...to see the culture I have admired for so much of my life, that was the best gift we ever gave ourselves.
You will find some of the most amazing friends thru this journey. So many people think everyone has to be friends who you meet thru this. That isn't true. And you will lose some friends thru this journey. It's the progress of life. Take the new friends you can get, lose the ones that can't support you, and you are richer in life for it.
You don't have to do everything in your kid's life because they are a Chinese adoptee...we were quizzed what we would do to embrace H's culture by our agency. I couldn't even answer, I drew a blank. They then ran down a list that seemed like a "duh" list...will you eat Chinese food? Will you talk about their home country? Will you travel with them to China?! But I see too much emphasis sometimes on things like an agency staff worker telling me about a cute panda room someone did, how many Chinese friends do you have etc etc...I don't want H to count our Chinese friends. I want her to see that our Nigerian friend, our Aussie friend, our Polish friend, our Filipino friend... all are equal and wonderful. I don't want to hang out with people I don't like cause their kid in Chinese. I rather teach H that you surround yourself with people who you like and who care about you.
Those wide hips that have made jeans shopping suck your whole life? (The ones that all the docs told you would be great for child-bearing...ironically enough...yeah, those hips.) They are awesome for carting around a 21+lb'er. I see all those skinny chicks in their awesome jeans with the baby sliding down their leg looking at me with envy.

Peanut just woke up. We have to go play with her pink dolphin balloon I bought her at the store yesterday to celebrate her anniversary and have an icee after lunch. Much better than the phone conference they are on at work right now.

Learning to Adjust...and an Addiction

2008-08-12T13:32:00.003-05:00

Sigh...it's been a rough couple of weeks again for little Miss H...(Don't I always say that?!) P started his newer and better job last week (yay! yay!), and she's not liking that he's not home. She had grown quite comfortable with the time he took off. Also, he's leaving before she gets up in the a.m., which gives him a lot more time at night with her, but she's soooo not digging that. I hope in a few weeks of this new routine, she'll get her bearings again. She had finally decided that, yes, these people do live only for me, and I like it this way!

Side story: My kid is too smart. Period. We were leaving Best Buy yesterday, and we're sitting at the light. Mind you, H loves saying BuhBye to every car that passes her. She's the neighborhood goodbye committee all rolled up in 32 inches of cuteness. She says BuhBye to every car she sees. We're sitting at the light, and a car of same make and color as P's rolls up on the other street (so, what, 40+ feet from us?!) with a man in his 20's inside. She screams "Dada" and points (she was being generous on the age thing to ol' dada there). Freaky smart, huh?

We've had a few breakthrus with the complete menu of 8 things H will currently eat. She has decided she loves Chicken Congee again. And she tried fried hash brown cakes (I know, not the most nutrionally great thing), and she loves them! And she tried bagel, but didn't like it, but at least she tried it. Oh, and...get this....marinated cucumber?!?! She loved it once I got it between those little cute lips! So, we're up to about 11 things now. Sigh. I miss the days of feeding her off every plate at the Thai restaurant!

And now, I have a confession to make. I'm addicted. I fully admit it. L will vouch for the 2 giant bags of shame that are sitting in my fridge right now. I am a dim sum addict. I cannot go clean. I will not go clean. Put me on the Intervention show on A&E. It will not help. I rationalize it by the fact that I don't have to cook many many dinners now. My fridge looks like DimSum land exploded in it. The bags actually cannot contain the sum-my goodness...there are containers on every shelf. but H is my enabler. It's her fault. She sleeps thru the "lunch time-ness" of dim sum on Sundays now. I have to pick up order it, and it's a good 20 minute drive one way to get there, so why only get what a small milita can eat? Why not go for a whole division of the army, at the very least? Don't leave me in the house alone to order when P is outside working on the yard, and child is sleeping, so I have no distractions or sanity to check me. Just cause we can't eat 3 orders of pork buns at one sitting, in my mind, is not a problem. It is an opportunity for more yumminess. And you need the shrimp toast and the sticky rice to go with. To not, would be a crime. $70 of Chinese food is totally eatable if we put our minds to it. (And heck, that included H's custom made congee.)

Leave me to my shame in peace...and don't touch that pork bun or that turnip cake.

Ummmmm...That's Called A....

2008-08-05T20:32:00.003-05:00

OK, I have two topics to share today...I'd say that this episode is brought to you by the letter "G" for "growth" and "girly."

This past weekend, we went to a neighbor's son's 2nd birthday party. Perhaps y'all remember said neighbor, last year, when we went to said son's 1st bday party, and I left in tears, hoping no one knew. We thought the kids would be about "home" the same time...Well, he was born July 2006, and H didn't come home till Feb of 2008. Anyways, off we went, H all spiffed up in her girly girly party dress (when else am I going to put her in all this foofy stuff that she got as gifts?!) I thought nothing of the events of last year. She was clingy, and then we finally got her onto dada instead of me...finally about an hour in, we got her to plant both feet on the ground. Over time, she started to wander. We were proud. Then, N from a few doors down was headed outside with her kids, and H was whining to go out in the 98% humidity, 90-something day, which mama was not digging. N looked at H from the doorway, and said "H, do you want to come with us?!" My internal mama scoffed at the idea. All of a sudden, H scooted off and into N's arms and out the door. I was...well, speechless. And then, I felt so proud. I was so proud of her. Last year, I was praying to Jesus, Buddha, Mohammad and the Dali Lama to bring us a daughter. I begged Zeus and Ra and anyone else who would listen to not make me go thru another event where I watched from the outside in at all the parents and kids...

This year, I watched from inside, out. I peeked out the back windows and watched my daughter wander the backyard with the people we've been working to get her to know and trust, our 3 good family friends in the 'hood, the past 5 months. She was so reluctant, wanting to keep her world small. I saw her ask to get down from N, wander over to the kids who so want to play with her, then wander over to J, and get scooped up with giggles. She played outside for about 15-20 minutes then happily came back in and ran into my arms.

I was so happy when I saw her growing, versus being in my arms, not being "kept" as I so wanted to be able to do last year. I think I'm starting to grow as a mama too.

And here's my funny story of the day: (Kinda sick of me to title the post over the 2nd, non-sappy, story, huh?) I'm such a daredevil... So, I'm changing H's diaper this a/m...the kid has been all over the body parts lately. We know noses, mouths, hair, bellys, toes (we love toes), feet, knees (another favorite with the under-4 foot crowd around here), belly buttons, eyes, and sometimes fingers. I should have seen this coming like the obvious punchline it is in this story...we've got the diaper off, and mama is getting ready to swab the butt creme all over and seal it back up. H sticks her finger down to near where all the parts start, and looks at me and says "Dah?!", which is her way of saying "What the heck is that, lady?!?!" I just about fainted. The last thing I expected to hear out of my daughter this week was asking me what the things between her legs were called! Mind you, she hasn't shown interest or anything like most kids do at some age. I was speechless again, just cause, who would have guessed that would have been the discussion when I walked in there this morning!? I mumbled for a minute, and then she asked again. I stalled long enough, and then I came up with "Those are your 'girly parts', sweety." Then, I felt like a chicken. So I told her their real names, though she was already trying to say "girly parts", coming out grah-grah, so I said, that's ok, we'll keep it simple for now and stick with "girly parts."

Oh dear...am I going to have to explain the birds and the bees to her soon too? I need her to at least be three before she asks me about that!

Subliminal Advertising...

2008-07-31T13:38:00.002-05:00

OK, I'm not a religious-crazy-spin-the-Judas-Priest-album-backwards-and-find-the-satanic-message kinda person...

But, you start to wonder sometimes...seriously, I need to talk to the people at White Castle and Tractor Supply Company. I understand why my child stops and stares at a tv that she really doesn't care about when the TSC commercial comes on, seeing as it employed about 50 dogs to run thru a field. She points and screams "doooo" as much as possible in 30 seconds. I don't get why she cackles manically while doing it though. It's kinda freaky...

And Whitecastle? What do they get out of brainwashing my kid? I don't know, but they must have put something in their commericals, cause every...stinkin'...time my kiddo sees that commercial, she stops and is mesmerized...Mind you, she hates, hates, hates, hamburgers. I would understand Mattel, sell those Barbies to my little growing mind wrapped in a cute body, but sliders?!?!

I guess they are just getting her set up for being a consumer later in life when she needs to buy a tractor, overalls to wear while riding it, and needs some food to eat while plowing the back 40...

Multiple Choice Test

2008-07-16T12:14:00.002-05:00

Ok, here's a brain teaser for anyone who has a kid or knows someone who has a kid:

Question 1: If said kid-owning person is coming to your house, do you tell them if you've changed "the plan" for the day?!
A. Yes
B. No

Question 2: If said kid coming with people isn't totally old enough to eat whatever gets put in front of them and/or order off of a menu, do you tell the parents of these new plans?
A. Yes
B. No

Question 3: If the change of plans means eating in instead of eating out, do you make something that said child can eat, or have kid-edible foods in the house?
A. Yes
B. No

Question 4: If the answer to above Question 3 is "no", do you tell said parents so they can have kid-food with them?!
A. Yes
B. No

Question 5: When parents say that the child is "totally cooked" and needs to get in the car for the hour and 45 minute drive home and take a nap, and that they have to leave "now" also so that they do not get stuck in rush hour, making it a 2.5 hour drive that over tired child will not tolerate, what do you do?
A. Kiss Kiss, love you much and kick them out the door
B. Start asking all kinds of questions about kiddo and making small talk while trying to make over tired child sit on (what is to her) strangers laps?
C. Tell them to put her in the p 'n p upstairs?

Question 6: When you have heard at that meal that child doesn't drink milk, but don't know why, what is best to feed the kid when the mama turns her back for 8.3 seconds?
A. Cookies
B. Ice Cream
C. Pasta
D. Nothing, of course

Question 7: If you are the person who is cooking the "party food", and you know a small child (and you've had 5 yourself and 8 grandkids), is coming, what time do you plan to eat:
A. 1pm, as they arrive, knowing parents had shown up at other house at noon, planning to go to a restaurant right away.
B. 1:45-2p, cause what's an hour-plus wait to a 15 month old?
C. 1:15, so I can say Hi before we sit down.

OK, tally up your score...

If you answered "B" to most or all of the above, you are related to my husband somehow. We don't know why he's not like you, but we appreciate it.

If you answered any of the other choices, be glad you aren't one of the crazies I call my in-laws.

Jumping In With Both Feet

2008-07-12T22:21:00.003-05:00

Hi all, it's been crazy around here lately. Too crazy to even be snarky and pretend to think I'm funny...I'll explain more later...

So, the scoop of it is, I'm good at research. I'm good at paperwork. Some days, my daughter even makes me feel like I'm a half-way decent mom...which got me to thinking...mostly in bed at night, lying awake, listening for any issues in the bedroom at the end of the hall...now what? Are we done? Is there a sibling for H? What is best for her? Undivided attention? Someone like her? And I've thought and I've researched and we've pondered.

And that pondering is very hard, when you consider that most programs put you out at least 24 months. And life shifts more than you know in the space of a week with a child that is moving, learning, attaching, evolving on a minute-by-minute basis.

How do you calculate life when you are looking at 2.5 years + and it involves a little 15 month old that is your world?

I've asked that for 4 months. And I have realized I can't calculate shit. That's the lesson I've learned best from my kid. All planning is out the window. We have to live by the seat of our pants, and do what our hearts tell us...

So, this week, we submitted an app to an agency to get in line in Taiwan. I've promised P that there will be no neurosis on my part, as we know that this wait is going to be over 2 years, (We don't want it any sooner!) unlike the crazy we got into with the wait for H. There will be no whining, analyzing, pondering, spreadsheets etc etc etc...

Moreso, I've promised myself that I can work my butt off, do what has to be done, invest my heart in it, and then walk away for 2 years. I can live my life with P and H, while we wait for A, in anticipation, but without gut-wrenching longing for the last little sweet giggle that will complete our family.

Go ahead. Laugh at that last statement. Just don't snort milk up your nose while you do it, ok? Then promise to peal me off the ceiling when I get all freaky, ok?

I Blame My Looks on Sleep Deprivation...

2008-07-02T09:59:00.002-05:00

It's been a crazy couple of weeks here...more than I ever anticipated!

First off, the Friday before last, something freaked out H. I don't know what happened, but it did...Morning nap? Actually took one. It was fine, it was great. Visitor to house came over lunch. Put H down for nap afterwards, and she clawed me to the point that I had blood drawn. Nothing bad happened to her, I don't know why or if this was the catalyst...I don't know if it's the multi-molars coming in at once, or just baby's perogative. All I know is that since that point in time, sleep has been a scary time for H and a pain in the ass one for us. It has taken up to two hours to get her down...if at all. Our anniversary (ahhhh, now that we have a child, I see how far romance can fall!)? She woke at 4:10a and WOULD NOT go back to sleep. I cancelled my grandma daycare service, cause if we sat anywhere, we'd fall asleep. We still counted ourselves luckier than the 3:14a call she gave us a few days before.

She wakes and sobs hysterically, at the corner of her crib nearest the door. That's what she does if you try to take her in and sing a few of Baby's Top Ten and lay her down like we have done for the past 4 months, rub the tummy for a few seconds, kiss kiss and leave. The lip quivers, the tears flow...and the wail is a wail of abject fear. The only progress we've been able to make is that now we (P) can sit in the room, instead of touching her constantly until she sleeps.

This of course (it always does) happened the day before we left for vacation. We went to the ILs down South. All in all, not too bad...they were on their best behavior, though they think they can force a kid to play in the kiddie pool even if she's tired and doesn't want anything to do with it.

The classic IL story of the trip though was this one: we went to the beach club, and we were on the deck area and P and I were digging thru all the sherpa-up-Everest crap you have to bring with when you take a kid somewhere. My SIL (world's best aunt, as she sees herself, and she's right, don't you know?) picks H up, and whisks her down the stairs, across the sand, and shows MY daughter the ocean for the first time. Hello?!? Ummmm...lady that hasn't ever once emailed us to see how her niece is doing? You don't get to show my daughter her firsts....bitch. At least H rewarded her with an ear-splitting wail when she tried to dip her in the water!

The other thing they did was they insisted that we go with the ILs to a fancy schmantzy bar that has opened there for a drink while the SIL watched her for an hour. They did not get why I told them that even though H was ok with Auntie with us there, she had only known her for a day and a half. I was literally dragged out the door. I told Auntie that if she got upset for more than the few minutes seperation stuff to call us. The answer? There will be no reason to call you, I can handle whatever she dishes out....clueless witch. H did ok, but she clung to Auntie the whole time, which Auntie thought was cute. I pointed out this is what she did in China when she was handed to us and terrified. Sobered her up about this whole thing about 4%.

On to the good stuff...H is sooooo close to talking, it's scary. She walks around the house doing a Helen Keller baby impersonation...she knows now that everything has a name, so she goes around the house pointing or touching, and looking at us. She's enamored with flowers now, and balls. She's expanded her baby vocabulary by bounds in the last 3 days. And when she looks you in the eye, she's not a baby anymore. You can see the little girl she is too quickly becoming. We've got 3 molars in various stages of eruption, and the 4th about to pop. She even throws her diaper out for us now. Then gives us a high five.

It's the little triumphs in life, huh?

So, we've crossed another year milestone in putting up with each other thru whatever life hands us, and however it changes. We've seen the worst of some issues that H has handed us yet, and we've seen the amazing capacities of this child. I know we'll see worse yet, and I love the promise of the wonderful that we'll see too.

The Big "R" That's Out There...

2008-06-18T09:41:00.003-05:00

So, somehow I was thinking about Barack Obama and H last night, as I waited to drift off to bed...I think H started me thinking about him, but I'm not sure...this is a bit rambling, and I'm sure to piss someone off, but, oh well...

I looked in on H last night (I think this brought my political thinking to my conscious mind, but I could be wrong), and I was thinking of the pics that we got from a photographer yesterday (we had photos done at a park this weekend.) So, I look in on H as she's sleeping, and, for lack of a better term, with how she was lying, and the light, she *looked Chinese.* I don't know, I just don't look at her and think of her Chinese-ness. It's not far from my thoughts, but I don't know, I don't see it when I look at her, because I see all the things that make her H (and I know, that's a big part of her) before that. I think of the dimple she gets and the nose crunch when she giggles hysterically. I think of her perchant for taking food she's done with, holding it out at arms length over the side of the highchair, and looking me straight in the eye, before she drops it to the hungry kitties below, with a defiant look. I think of the sweet baby "buh" she says when she waves now. But I was struck by her classic Chinese beauty last night. And I realized that this is what people see when they first see her in my pasty pale, Franco-German arms.

I think I thought of this because my mom, in all her good qualities, notices race way too much many times. So, we were going thru the photos, and she would say something like "she looks sooo Chinese here, don't know if you want that or not." I guess because she doesn't have the super-open baby eeyes anymore?!?! I don't know. It's weird, cause she adores...simply lives, for this kid. I guess it's when she's not engaged, for example, a picture, it's really easy for her to forget that there are real people behind the images, that are so much more than what they present in two dimensional space. Anyways, I guess it was on my mind.

And me, being me, started drifting my mind to the looming presidential race, cause, I am by nature, a political beast. I love politics (well, in a hating it kinda way), history, geo-politics etc...and I've had some discussions with people about the First Black Serious Candidate and the First Woman Serious Candidate...

At the time, I said to friends, I didn't get why, because I have boobs, I had to support Clinton...and I didn't get why anyone had to support any certain candidate because you can play "what's the same" with their picture and yours...

Isn't that the point of Civil Rights? Of Equal Rights? That it didn't matter what color, sex, political or religious beliefs you held? The best person for the job? It seems to me, that if I supported Clinton because I was a woman and she was a woman, I'd be doing the exact opposite of what I believe in...I'd be picking her because she is like me, not because of what she stands for...the ambiguous "we" don't like when we don't get chosen because of who "we" are, so why should it be done the other way around?

And if someone (well, a lot of those people in WV and KY said it to be broadcast for the world) said "I'm going to vote for Clinton or McCain cause they are white", all hell would break loose. Really, Clinton was pandering to the blue-collar whites. She uses the "w" word in a lot of her speeches..."hard working white people."

Does that give anyone else shivers that this is acceptable?

No. We cannot live in a world where race/gender/religion whatever is ignored. It's a part of who each and everyone of us is. But it at the same time isn't us. It's a piece. Sometimes big, sometimes small. And that's what makes everyone queasy...lots of people want a black and white (har, har) answer...yes, we either pin everything on it, or we HAVE to pretend it doesn't exist. No inbetween.

Ironically, in cases where race and gender (Affirmative Action and equality stances), they aren't talking about it. This is a case where Barack Obama as a minority male should be speaking as an educated person with a different viewpoint. Clinton should also be, as a female who wants to go where she percieves other females have not been welcome. It shouldn't be their complete campaigns, but these are issues facing our country. And it's like they are not being talked about on purpose...all those talking heads out there on all those 24 hour news networks? They never once thought to ask what Obama thinks of affirmative action? (Maybe they have, I haven't seen it.) Or what Clinton thinks about the disparity of pay to females vs males for the same job? This is when it does matter...to know what these people think. But, the talking heads shun it, cause it's bad to point it out when it matters.

Just like I won't pick out a picture because it makes H look Chinese, or she doesn't look "as Chinese" (what that supposedly means, that's another discussion...). I'll pick a picture that shows the most of H. It'll be in her eyes, and how she carries herself, that look of her soul using her body to show the world who she is. And that's all colored by the body she's in, and the eyes she's using to see the world, but it isn't just those eyes and that skin that is darker than mine.

And I'll pick a presidential candidate that shows me how he will run this country based on who he is, shining thru his eyes, and expressed in his actions. And someday, maybe I'll have to put an "s" on that pronoun, but I don't cry that it's not this year, cause there's so much more that matters than what's between the persons' legs, and what color it is.

How's that for random ramblings?

Thank God It Was A Diaper Under There

2008-06-06T15:33:00.002-05:00

Sigh...

Why am I flashing forward about 15 years to when it's not a Huggies under there? (Not that my kid is ever, ever, ever getting a thong) BTW, she walked around like this for a good 15 minutes before she'd let me get my hands on that waistband...

Cheerio Haiku #1

2008-06-05T09:37:00.003-05:00

In honor of the lowly cheerio that has been raised to the venerated status of "must have on tray at all times otherwise a hissy of biblical proportions will be thrown", a Haiku, what I personally view as one of the most lowly poetry formats.

crunchy cardboard-y

irregular mass-made "o"

please please more right now

I've lost it folks, admit it.

A (Grand)Father and a (Grand)Daughter

2008-06-04T15:03:00.002-05:00

OK, so after my pensive mood, and a cancelled lunch date with a friend, I decided to get Peanut and I out of the house. So what do I come up with what with our crappy weather and all? I go to the office. I figure I can make my presence known to little boogers who think I don't count anymore, and H can get cooed over...

So into the car to spend 45 minutes of gas...egads. Did I really drive that much every day of my life?!?! We get to office, go to Dad/Boss' office of course. He lights up when he sees us, and starts talking to H right away, trying to get her to warm up to him. The dog du jour (they take turns coming to the office), cowers behind him, terrified of this evil thing that has come into her life, waving at her and dropping cheerios. All was fine. All is fine. It always is, with my Dad. Nothing ruffles him, nothing gets him pissed or sad or whatever. He's the picture next to the definition of "even-keeled".

We do the office tour, have some office-y discussions. He only tries to hold H at the end of the visit, when she's pissed off at this boring adult stuff, and about 3 hours overdue for a nap (her choice, not mine.). She screams of course. Then I switch off my finger about 10 minutes later for his, so I can visit the toilet before the drive home. I come out, she's still walking with him, but it's like a little Baby Death March. She's walking, but moaning, and the tears are in her eyes.

That got to me. She's ok with him, sometimes likes him, but doesn't squeal with delight with him. And it bugged me because he made little comments...not bad ones, but telling ones: It was nice of you to bring her in. Wow! She has great balance now. Oh look how much she's walking. She looks so much taller....etc etc etc...my favorite: We'll try to get together this weekend.

Dude. You live 3 minutes from me if the light is red. And 1/2 of the times you've seen your one and only grandchild is when I cart her into the office...45 minutes away. I don't know if it is him, my step-mom, a almost beyond belief desire to make sure there is no infringement on personal space, or what, but I'm starting to get really disappointed.

I don't know why, this is how it was with me. Mind you, my Dad is such a great guy, it pains me that H is not getting to know him better. He saw her once every 10 days or so for a few times, and now, it's back to normal. Life getting in the way. Scratch that...work getting in the way. I don't know if my step-mom is playing into that...I know she was still in her casts from her foot surgery when we got home, I get that, I spent $80 on a phone call from GZ to see how the surgery went, but now that she's better, why has the visitation gotten worse? And the times he's been over at my house? Other than her birthday, it's been dropping off work or something, though I give credit that he could be darting off again but doesn't.

When I was little, my parents divorced when I was wee. Very wee. Not infant wee, but I just have one faint memory of us all moving to seperate houses that summer day. My Dad talked to me most days - I would call him at the office because they usually worked till after dinner. I get that in the days of the start up company. But it was always me calling him. Sometimes multiple times to get him. I think one of the reasons he bought a brick cell phone was so he could multi-task and call me back on his way home. I saw him 90% of the weekends for a day. But somehow, for all the physical effort, it was somehow always me, the 8 year old, the 12 year old, the 30 year old looking to make the emotional and mental effort to connect. And it's funny, because I am his daughter all the way - the interests, the outlooks, everything. Though I promise to not let life slide away like he has in some ways.

Perhaps it's the flow of daily life. Maybe I'm reading too much into this. Maybe I still crave my Daddy's open love (which you don't see, you just have to know it's there) more than I admit to myself. I had angry spurts growing up of course with him. Haven't had it for years. I'd gotten into the daily flow of how it is. Maybe the last 11 years at my office have given me a sense of closeness that I had craved my whole life. I'm sure they have in some great way. Was is real or not...does discussions about politics and tv and life in the lunchroom suffice or not?! Who's to say...

I don't know what I wanted. What I expected?! He is what he is. I just wish it was different for H. I know he loves her, I can see it. I just want it to be different for her. I want her to squeal when she sees him. I want her to have the awesome Grandfather that I had in his father. My Grandfather was twice the reserved cautious sincere man my father was, but you saw him put that aside for his one and only granddaughter. He wasn't snuggly, but he would wiggle his ears and lift me over his head. He was infintely patient. He would show me how he made jewlery and fixed the sink and trimmed the cactus. It pains me...soon I figure, my Dad will also make the move to AZ, they have a gorgeous piece of land out in Sedona - my step-mom is just about screaming for it. I feel the time that H has with him is limited. I don't want her home at 6 months here to have reservations about being with him instead of me. I want her to know him, to spend those intimate moments with him, when they bow their heads together over an ant hill and he explains everything he knows (which is always more than you would think Granddads should know) and comes home all infused with excitement. I see caution in him, he's giving her space. But he's not here enough for her to decide to make those emotional and mental reaches out to him that I've always had to do. Will he go away, to the life my step-mom wants before they get to the point that she can and wants to do the leg work for it? Why can't he make that step, the reach that my grandfather made, overcoming all the level-headed reasonableness and daily work ethic to take that time?

Am I asking to much? And why do I kill my brain and my heart over this? You can't change what any of us are...I can't make him do what is not in his nature.

I mourn for H, because if he was 1/2 the Grandfather his Dad was to me, she would be rich beyond her dreams.

Lilacs And Absolutes

2008-06-02T12:36:00.002-05:00

Ahhhh...I'm waxing philosophical again. Sorry, but it's gonna be directed at you. Yesterday was a "mama's day off" which translates to me doing about 6 hours of yard work. I've got my mid-west farmer's tan now...I'm "in" around here now for the next few months.

Philosophical Waxing #1:
What will H remember about me (subconsciously)? About her childhood? I know the big things, the things with her friends, first days of school etc...what about all that little stuff? All the stuff you can't even plan on wanting or shoulding remembering...Yesterday I was walking thru my yard, dragging a giant bag of dirt behind me. I all of a sudden couldn't stop myself from stopping, standing up and closing my eyes...I had passed one of my lilacs. See, in my home in another suburb until I was in 4th grade, we had lived in a split level - one of those where the upper floor juts out a bit over the lower floor. That was where my bedroom was, on the lower floor. My mother had a hedge of lilacs put in under that overhang. My mother also is one of those firm believers that even if it's 90 degrees out, the "breeze" will lower the house temp to a comfortable 75 or so (A Miracle! It's a Miracle that defies science!!! A Higher Being made that screening cool the air. Call the Vatican, the screens in each of my mother's past and present homes much be blessed! But I digress...) So, many, many a night I would lay there waaaaay too hot, smelling the lilacs.

And, it's not like the lilacs bring back that specific memory. I don't transport back to that peach bedroom. It took me years to figure out the draw of the lilacs. But they create a huge visceral reaction in me. I have to stop when I smell them...I have to take a pause in my day. To me, that's actually a huge gift - a pause in the crazy of life that we all seem to forget to take. Just a few seconds, but it's there.

My MIL is the opposite. Her Dad and Mom died 6 months apart when she was relatively young (20ish). She hates roses. Hates the smell. Almost gags. But you think about it, especially her Dad was a shocking death on top of a young death. She was pregnant with my husband at the time. When her mother died, she not only inherited her parents house, but also a minor brother that she, as a newly young mother and wife, had to also care for. No wonder she can't tolerate the smell...I can't imagine the amount of roses that she was surrounded by at those funerals and were sent to her home. The father was a doctor, well known in the area, I imagine those funeral homes overflowing all in white and red roses for some reason.

Another one for me...beer. Once upon a time, my Dad let me drink his beer, I was thinking it was ginger ale. I to this day, and 3germresnd years of age can't drink beer. I hate beer. I hate the smell of beer. That and gin and cognac, cannot drink them. Bleck. It's not like a giant mental scar, but years later, when I've tried beer, which I force myself to do every 5 years or so - I think it's wrong. I think it's supposed to taste linke ginger ale.

Other things...I feel the need to sing to Barry Manilow when I hear him, even though thankfully, it's only if some odd tv signal barrages my brain or something, cause I really do hate his music. But my mother loves Barry Manilow. She walked around the house, singing to it. Actually, this has affected me unbeknowest to me. I am the world's biggest car singer. I can't turn the radio on without treating it as a sing-along karaoke machine. I only am thankful that I don't feel this need when Neil Diamond pummels my brain. I may have gotten the compulsive need to sing from my mother, but I got much better taste in music from my Dad. Which, off topic, how the hell do I erase the words to Mandy from my very-important-to-me brain mass? I forget where my sunglasses are all the time...maybe if I freed up some of my mis-used hard drive space up in my cranium, I wouldn't forget important crap.

So. Getting back to my original question...what will it be about me that infect my child's brain on a subconscious level? Will she move to the big city to run from anything green, or will she end up with a farm and growing her own everything due to the future planned years of us gardening together? Will she feel the need to argue politics even if she agrees, just like me? Will she pause when she passes a bakery smells all the sweets baking? Will she compulsively make sure the labels of the cans face front at least enough so you can see what's in the kitchen cabinet as soon as you open the door?

I guess maybe it's hubris of mine to think that she'll develop most of her traits because of us parents that she got stuck with. Of course, with H, you can take this discussion to the next level...what will she pick up from us that she may not have been impressed upon if she had different parents than us. I know you can ask that about any kid, and I hate to question everything and how it will be affected by her adoption (Lord knows, I question stuff enough without even throwing the "A" word on top of it all.) But it's a possible question with adopted kids a bit more than the purely philosophical disscussion if the kid gets to grow up with the parents that created her/him. Is my kid destined to be affected by a smell? Does her biology lean her towards that, and if it's here, she smells the lilacs in my yard and gets the same reaction, or the cakes and tarts that I make will bring her back to another place? If she was back in China, she'd gain the same affection for another olfactory trigger? Or is it the experiences that make those triggers? What is she destined to latch on to, and what do we make her latch on to?

Sigh...I'm back to the ol' biology vs environment discussion again. How do I always get back there? I think it's because every day I'm amazed at this little computing and learning machine I have wandering around here, with Farmer Ted in her hand at all times.

Well, I've prattled on the whole time I've eaten my frozen lunch (really though, I do bake. Seriously.), I'll have to tackle the "absolutes" of the post title later...

Oh, BTW, we hate naps in this house now, and we've got our first molar pushing thru. It broke thru Saturday, and I have the holes in my index finger to prove it from trying to stick my finger in past all those well established teeth in the front.

Oh what a morning...

2008-05-27T10:33:00.002-05:00

This was a weird weekend on the whole. Child not napping, over napping, refusing normal food, wanting what she doesn't like etc etc etc...I don't know if she's just so thrown over our apparent lack of regard for her schedule (P home 3.5 out of 5 days last week, off yesterday, the death illness too), or those molars are working again on coming thru or what...or just girl's perogative...

So this morning, I hear a wail. A heart breaking wail. This is odd. I put the glasses on and see the clock at 5:02. Groan. Give her about a minute and a half, and can hardly sit there to listen that long...she's upset and moaning, and crying, so I go in, sending husband back to bed. She's laying in bed sobbing. So not usual for The Peanut. I think I've posted a few times about this happening during afternoon naps, but it's never happened at night before. She just doesn't seem like she's H when she wakes up with these episodes.

So I lift her out, she won't move...none of the scramble to stand - not even a thought of it. She only will be held pressed against my body, looking over my shoulder, still moaning. She doesn't seem all "there." So I walk around the room, calming her, rubbing her back. It takes about 15 minutes till she'll even curl up in my arms in the chair in her room. She was clutching at me, terrified of being seperated from me at all.

So I finally get her down into my lap, and I've got my arms around her. More time passes, and I get her to lay down in my arms, and I'm rocking her. She has that sleepy tongue sucking thing going, and I figure she's going to start to nod off. All of a sudden, she looks up at me, and starts delicately (and I've never felt a "soft" touch - didn't know she had the control yet - she's all movement, all the time, with all the gusto she can muster usually) touch and explore my face. Even her attempt to pick my nose was soft and slow. She of course pushed to get to my teeth, but she lightly touched my cheeks, lips, nose, hair. She even ignored my glasses, which are as amazing to her as a laser pointer is to my cat. And the whole time, she looked straight in my face, with some periods of a minute looking in my eyes. H hasn't avoided eye contact, but she also isn't one of those kids that will stare back, you maybe get 10 seconds at most out of her, she just doesn't seem to look at anything longer than 10 seconds! (Maybe it's an aversion, and I'm burying my head in the sand, I don't know.) Anyways, she does this for a good 20 minutes. I start at some point to smile lightly at her, and she instantly mimics me. Again, I've always seen with her a "plain" face, or an all out hysterical laugh - nothing in the middle.

Maybe it was nothing, but these episodes of abject saddness and fear make me wonder. And what happened this morning, with what I'm going to call our bonding breakthru was something I never imagined she'd do. I didn't know a human tornado moving quickly toward toddlerhood could be so delicate. Maybe she's finally figured out she's stuck with me, or maybe she's decided I'm kinda cool and she wouldn't mind keeping me...either way, she used those 2 hours this morning to feel me out on a level that I've not experienced before.

I'm tired as hell, but right now, I'm counting it as very worth it. I hope I'm right, I hope this did something for her, that she feels something new about these crazy people she's stuck with that she didn't feel before.