The Three Whos

I'm a slacker

2009-11-14T21:01:00.005-05:00

Oops, I just realized I haven't updated this since the first day of school. What a slouch I am. But in my feeble defense, life's been a wee bit busy here in Whoville.

There's been the adjustment to kindergarten, including the infamous frame-it-to-show-to-your-boyfriends note that read: "Dear Who I's parents: Who I has been kissing some of the boys. We've put her in time out, had the center director talk to her and another teacher talk to her, and she won't stop. Please talk to her." Yes, I'm the proud mom of the kindergarten floozie.

We've had new ballet classes for Who II, and the insanity of sicking the killer bees on the neighborhood for Halloween. Oh, and a visit from grandpa during which I discovered neither he nor hubby had ever carved a pumpkin. What's with THAT???

Then there's been the birthday season. Whos I and II celebrated in October with a rousing time at the local gymnastics spot, where the zip line was all the rage (and even Mama Who gave it a whirl and lived to tell about it). And Baby Who is now 3 and celebrated with five of her closest 3-year-old friends at our house (I'm certifiable) with the help of a wonderful children's entertainer.

Oh yeah, and we've squeezed in a trip to South Carolina to deliver three gorgeous flower girls to their Uncle Dave's wedding.

And did I mention we got a new dog? She's now officially my fourth child. The cats, well, not sure where they rank.

So maybe it sounds like excuses. But life is churning along here in Whoville. Maybe the photos will speak for themselves.

Bring on the holidays!

Milestones

2009-08-10T21:19:00.015-04:00

It's been an eventful week here in Whoville. The cage is gone. So is Cousin It. and the first 12 years of life inside a school have begun!

We kicked of the week in grand style, disassembling Baby Who's crib and officially agreeing with her indignant declaration that "I a Big Girl now!" We hadn't planned to set her free to move about the cabin just yet, but a scheduled visit from our friendly window installer necessitated moving all furniture at least two feet from the windows. And since Baby Who's room was starting to resemble a furniture showroom, with the twin bed just waiting for her to grow into, it seemed like it was time to say a nostalgic farewell to the crib that has kept the little monkey confined so well for almost two years. Oh, and did I mention we did it on a school night? No, we're not right in the head.

But she loves it.

A few days later, it was off to the marvelous Zefan for haircuts. Only this time, Baby Who got to go too. Mind you, the child is nearly 3 and has never had her locks trimmed. And, um, it showed, though Grandma Mimi was uncharacteristically tactful in not mentioning that her youngest grandchild had long ago begun resembling Cousin It. I knew I was going to have to do something when the dermatologist, who was looking at the Who-lette's skin, NOT her hair, said abruptly, "You really should cut her hair." That was in May. I finally got the guts to do it in August -- not because I didn't like the Pebbles Flintstone look that kept her scraggly wisps out of her eyes, but because Uncle Who is finally getting hitched, the Whos are going to be flower girls, and I don't want his future in-laws to think we're really the great unwashed. Or, in this case, the great uncut.

Baby Who, by the way, did marvelously. And she can see now without hair devices and no longer resembles a TV character or a shaggy dog.

Both events would have been enough to send this Mama Who into tearful sniffling as she realized her babies were growing up. But today was the final straw -- the Big Whos started kindergarten!

We took the traditional front step photo before heading off to school. Then I took some more when we got in their classroom at the church where they'll attend kindergarten.

As you can see, Who II was psyched -- it's nearly 9:30 p.m. and we're still scraping her off the ceiling as she continues to declare, "I had a very good day! I love kindergarten!"

Who I? As my dear papa knew so well, a picture speaks a thousand words. And I don't think any of them are printable.

If you haven't heard about baby Stellan ...

2009-07-28T23:19:00.001-04:00

This is little Stellan. He and your family need your prayers right now. It's amazing to see how his MckMama has kept a journal of her faith even while facing the darkest times in her life.

Sometimes you're the windshield ...

2009-07-14T20:18:00.004-04:00

And sometimes you go "Splat!"

This is what I walked into when I dropped Big Who off at school yesterday after learning that four of her no-enamel teeth needed fixing (thank you, Third World crappy nutrition).

Baby Who had just become one with the pavement. Apparently, she was pushing a bike at full speed (she really doesn't have any other speed) and tripped. Bike kept going -- and apparently she did too, earning a lovely case of road rash right down the middle of her face.

My immediate reaction was "What HAPPENED?!!!" Followed quickly by, "NOT THE FACE!"

The pediatrician assures us she'll heal, though we're going to have to work hard to prevent scarring. Daddy's already looking for plastic surgeons and a plastic bubble to keep her in. Baby Who? She's barely missed a beat after the initial reaction.

Ah, drama. Enough, already!

Nostalgia

2009-06-14T21:23:00.005-04:00

I remember as a kid being overjoyed every time the ice cream truck came past our house. Our folks, as I recall, were pretty indulgent, and I know I ate my fair share of the patriotic red, white and blue bomb pops. Anything to make your lips look extra ghoulish, right?

Our neighborhood now reminds me a lot of the one where I grew up. Lots of families, kids out playing and riding their bikes. So it was no surprise when the familiar tune of the ice cream truck showed up a few weeks ago.

What was surprising was my reaction.

Maybe it's just innocence lost. Maybe I've read one too many stories about Bad People who prey on children. But the ice cream truck creeps me out now. So I've resisted the eager eyes who look imploringly upon Mean Mama Who, begging for a treat. No sugar before bedtime, I say. We have ice cream at home, I add.

Today, I caved.

I've been feeling crappy for weeks, and we're still trying to figure out why. I've had enough blood tests to make even a vampire feel full. We've ruled out a bunch of bad stuff but still haven't figured out what's messing me up. It's sucked, quite a bit, because I know I haven't been a lot of fun to be around. I haven't had energy for much more than what absolutely needs to be done many days. Who I, my deep thinker who worries about whether her body will stink when she gets big and still cries over the dog we lost a year and a half ago, has even asked her daddy, "When you and mommy die, what happens to us?" and told me, "Mommy, when you die, I'll be sad."

Sheesh.

But today, finally, was a good day. I spread mulch, with the help of Who I, and my flower garden doesn't look like a weed patch. I finished the laundry and did the grocery shopping. My house doesn't look like pigs live here for the first time in weeks. So when the ice cream man hit our street and they heard the music, I didn't say a word. I just grabbed some cash and said, "Let's go."

Yes, the ice cream man creeped me out. I'll probably have the same reaction when we take them to the fair. There's no way they're going to ever go without adult supervision. And my husband simply shook his head at me when he saw I was letting them have SUGAR that close to bedtime. (This is the same man who thinks the cinnamon rolls from the place with the yellow arches count as dinner for the wee folk.)

But sometimes, even Mama has to break the rules. And the joy on their sticky little faces was a much-needed reminder of how incredibly blessed I am.

A sprinkle(r) a day

2009-06-04T21:32:00.004-04:00

Five years ago this week, we got a phone call that changed our lives. There was a little girl in China who was waiting to make us a family.

Little did we know that we would meet two of our daughters that day, or that China would beckon a third time. It's probably best that we didn't know that back in June of 2004, because we'd have freaked out. Big time.

But the best plans are often the ones made for us instead of by us, and as you can see, the joy of Three Whos is hard to beat.

Money well spent

2009-05-30T15:37:00.012-04:00

Today was Who II's first dance recital. They actually didn't call it a recital, but a year-end demonstration. I think that's to take pressure off the kids. But mom was a mess!

The stress started with the very explicit instructions about hairstyles. "Style however you want, just don't do pigtails (oops, there goes my area of "expertise") and if you do a bun, make sure it's on top of the head, not on the back (oops again. How do you keep slick little Asian hair on top of one's head???)." So being the smart mama I am, I called in reinforcements. $20 later, we had princess hair, courtesy of the wonderful Zefan!

Part II of Mama Who's mania came when we tried on the tutu (I just love saying that word, don't you?) and it promptly slid down Who II's nonexistent hips. Remember, this child is nearly 6 and weighs a mere 35 pounds. And that's being generous. So out come the needle and thread. Mind you, home ec was not my best subject. Needles are best suited in my household for removing splinters. But I managed to take up the waistband without bleeding all over the lovely lilac tulle. Victory!

So off we went to said YED (code for year-end demonstration), where Who II was most definitely the best ballerina of the bunch. She's only had four months of lessons, while the other girls have had at least a year. Even the teacher told us how good she was and what a quick study she'd been -- to the point that the other girls followed her lead.

It was wonderful to see her smile and to see how self-confident she was. This is a child who's found her element. So guess who's on tap for more ballet lessons?

Plie, anyone?

The better to see you with, my dear

2009-05-05T21:02:00.003-04:00

I still remember my first pair of glasses. Chocolate-colored horn rims at the ripe old age of 5. I sported them proudly in my cute yellow dress on the first day of kindergarten.

The older I got, though, the more hideous they became. We'd call 'em birth-control glasses today. Sure, they were in vogue way back when. But they still make me shudder.

Fast forward a few years (ahem) and we learn my beautiful 5-year-old has eyes that need a little boost. We want to make sure her superior brain is working at maximum capacity when she hits kindergarten in August, so after a second vision screening at preschool came up shy of passing, we checked out the local eye dude. He did a great job with the exam, even breaking out the cartoons (let's hear it for Elmer Fudd and that screwy rabbit!) as a way to help her concentrate while he peered into the inner depths of what turns out to be very astigmatic eyes. Normally, he says, he doesn't prescribe specs at this age because the eyes change so much. But we're a special case, and the eyes need some help so they work together better. Naturally, my mom guilt set in quickly. Maybe she WASN'T just shaking me down for the yummy grape medicine all those times she complained of a "heady-ache!"

So off we went to the children's frame selection, Big Who excited and Mama Who determined to make it a fun, positive experience. We started trying on frames and suddenly I froze, then a low keening sound erupted from deep within me.

"Noooooo," it said. "Nooooooooooo!"

For what to my tired progressive-lens-wearing eyes did appear but frames that looked Exactly. Like. Mine. From 1970.

"No! Absolutely not! Put those BACK!" I ordered the poor 20-something optical technician.

OK, I'm crazy. And don't get me wrong -- I love my mother, oh she of picking out the chocolate horn-rims. I really do.

But I promised myself I would never get my kids glasses that looked like that and I would never dress them in red, white and blue vertical-striped pants. And if they ever had a brother, I most DEFINITELY would not dress them in MATCHING red, white and blue vertical-striped pants. Ever.

So far, so good, though I'm sure I'm well on my way to embarrassing my kids on many other fronts.

I'm really pleased with the frame we picked out. It suits her face. And Big Who's frames are red like Mama Who's, which we both think is pretty cool.

The glasses haven't made their debut in school yet. She'll be the first in her pre-k class to wear glasses. We have a very supportive teacher in a school that works hard to promote kindness to others and strong values. But I know some kid is going to make a comment that maybe isn't so nice. And my very sensitive girl, who's so excited about her glasses, is going to be hurt.

As much as I'd like to, I can't protect her from that. So we're building her up now. She looks stylish. She looks beautiful. And she looks so smart and grown up!

And for now, that's going to have to be enough.

Happy Easter to All

2009-04-12T17:12:00.005-04:00

Here in Whoville, the youngest Who has given up the ghost and grabbed a nap (appparently, sleeping through church didn't count). The Big Whos are sugared up and napless, a dangerous combination, but currently engrossed in a movie (thanks, little yellow sponge guy). And mama and daddy Who are wishing Easter fell on a Saturday so we'd have a day to recover!

Despite what it looks like, the girls DID get Easter baskets. They just didn't want to empty them out for the egg hunt. But I confess we never got eggs dyed. I had the eggs. I had the dye. The two just never met up. Something about the day before spent with swimming lessons, haircuts, five loads of laundry and a much-needed pizza dinner out. The hours just disappeared.

Sorry, bunny. Maybe we'll dye some nice July 4th eggs.

The daily insanity

2009-03-31T22:05:00.005-04:00

We've been on a roll lately, starting with Mr. Fix It's sinus infection, which became Who I's double ear/sinus infection, which became a cold for Who II just in time for grandpa's visit, which became a cold for Baby Who, which became a cold for Mama Who that she ignored until it became a sinus infection two weeks later. But thanks to the amazing Monica at the local drugstore walk-in clinic, I now have pretty pink medicine. Bless you, Monica! (No, that was not a sneeze!)

Then there's the cat. This is the formerly free cat, rescued from a certain online classified ad site. The dog in a cat's body who is much more pleasant than her bitchy feline counterpart, who has decided that under no circumstances will she accept this interloper -- even though she's been here seven months.

Puppy cat has developed a hideous intestinal virus that has prompted spontaneous pooping and various other atrocities everywhere EXCEPT the litter box. $400 later, we've ruled out everything but the gut. We have two antibiotics, kitty Immodium and tonight I stepped in crap. Mind you, I have $4000 worth of new carpet that mercifully she has not hit -- yet. But I'm starting to panic. Especially since I. stepped. in. poop. Yuck!

So you have 5 illnesses among humans, 1 cat illness, 1 visiting grandpa who did not see us at our best. Now throw in a hectic weekend: swimming lessons for big Whos, a 2-year-old who spent the weekend apparently on speed, a daddy-daughter banquet that Who II freaked about and refused to attend, and Mama Who's madness in schlepping the Big Whos 90 minutes away to a concert after a sleepless night.

The good news amid the chaos: Baby Who can sing her ABCs almost perfectly! And let me remind you -- SHE IS ONLY 2!

At least someone in the family has brains.

Sink your teeth into this one

2009-03-04T21:43:00.006-05:00

The Tooth Fairy Cometh. To my house. And what a workout her little fairy butt got.

First came word from Dr. Demento, the smiling, "You're paying for my next vacation to someplace warm" pediatric dentist that the two baby teeth we'd tried valiantly to save had -- gasp -- given up the ghost. Yup, not one, but TWO teeth. Kablooey. Including the one I spent 300 smackeroos to crown. Do I have "Sucker" plastered all over my forehead? Crown this puppy now, $330. Ka-ching. Yank it a year later, add spacers, pull its little friend on the other side, add another spacer. $900. Ka-CHING!

But hey, she broke the news with a smile. Witch.

To her credit, Who II took the news calmly. And to my credit, I tried to bill it as her getting something before her sister did. "The Tooth Fairy will visit you first!" I cried with glee, hoping she wouldn't hate me later. Explained that she'd get to wear the "elephant nose" and breathe her favorite flavor, then they'd make her mouth all sleepy and get those teeth out so the Tooth Fairy could have them.

Smart girl, not to be fooled, asked, "Will it hurt?" I quickly backtracked to the elephant nose.

So Dr. Demento and her laughing gas-wielding minions did the deed yesterday. One, two -- sad little teeth out, spacers in. Home in less than an hour. And Who II did great.

But the fun was just beginning, at least for us poor fairies.

Mama Tooth Fairy was exhausted and quite honestly could have hit slumberland about 9 p.m. But no, there was fairy-ing to be done, so she toughed it out until 10. Sneaks into Who II's room, now shared by Who I thanks to the miracle of bunk beds. Who I is sawing logs on the top bunk. I go to cover up Who II, the cold, hard tooth cash in my hand, and what to my dismay do I hear but, "I'm not sleeping yet, mama!" ACK, ACK, ACK!

Off I slink, bags deepening under my eyes, cash still in hand, teeth safely tucked under the pillow in their hot pink plastic tooth box.

Thirty minutes later, I try again. This time, I THINK she's asleep. Or she's doing a great job of faking it. Only problem is she's asleep on top of the tooth box and facing me so that if she wakes at all, she'll bust my big fairy ass but good.

Out I go, money still in hand. It's time to enlist the big guns. So to Mr. Fix It I say: "You're going to have to do this. I have to sleep."

I tell him where the tooth box is. I'd pulled it back to the edge of the pillowcase for easy access. And off to bed I lumbered.

Fast forward to 5:30 a.m. Who II wakes, finds tooth box still under her pillow, goes to Daddy disappointed and says the TF didn't show up. Daddy tells her the fairy's probably running late and to go back to sleep. Mercifully, she does.

Come to find out daddy tried to get the box and COULDN'T FIND IT because she'd moved it farther under the pillow. He described a fit of panic as he ran his hand under the pillow, raising it up and flopping her little Who head around with no results.

The good news is that when she went back to sleep, he was able to snatch the box and replace it with the greens. So the next sound was her tapping on the bathroom door to show me her cash.

And I thought Santa had it bad!

Girls' Night Out

2008-12-19T22:07:00.005-05:00

'Twas a week before Christmas, to the state museum we did go. For dinner, a train ride and our favorite -- a puppet show!

The jolly old elf was there with his spouse, setting up shop in Santa's funhouse.

For pictures we went, the Big Whos were merry. But Baby Who? Scared -- oh, so very!

She cried and she yelped, setting off alarms, despite Santa's efforts and his very best charms.

So to the rescue came mom, loading her up in her arms. Say Cheese, Baby Who, and smile, if you please!

It's Christmas, my dear, and pictures we need. But if you don't ease your grip on my arm -- how I'll bleed!

So hold on tight, sweet baby girl, and we'll give this holiday tradition a whirl.

She sighed and she sniffled but finally stopped crying. And Mrs. Claus grabbed the camera as the tears were drying.

Click! Went the shutter, Blink! went the flash. When all was done, to the camera I did dash.

A sigh of relief when what did I see? But not one, not two but Whos times three!

So from our house to yours, from Whos big and so small,

Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, to one and to all.

A little elf magic

2008-12-13T18:06:00.003-05:00

Baby Who insisted I post this. "Elves, Mama, Elves!"
She can be very persuasive, all 22 pounds of her.

Enjoy!

December meanderings

2008-12-11T15:34:00.009-05:00

Mr. Fix it hates Christmas. Not the true reason for Christmas, but the retail-frenzied, Hallmark-driven Christmas that he claims is designed to send him out into public to deal with idiots at shopping malls, on the roads, in parking lots. Even online shopping makes him grumpy. And inevitably, I hear, "You're so hard to buy for."

I've tried to help him out. Last year, I sent him an e-mail with two links to items I'd appreciate if he were so inclined. All he had to do was click on the link and hit "buy me!" And the total cost was under $100.

This year, I ordered my own gift. He has to wrap it, though. And he can just put the $45 it cost in my stocking. Hah!

Seriously, I'm not hard to buy for (my brother makes this same claim). Maybe it's because I recognize that all this is just STUFF. Extraneous stuff that, to be sure, is nice, but in the grand scheme of things, does it matter? No. What matters is that I have the three most amazing gifts of all in my life, that my family is together, that we cherish the memories we have even as we make new ones.

And what I truly want for Christmas, and the coming year, are things money can't buy: Good health for those we love, especially my two aunts as they battle serious illnesses. That my mom continues to enjoy her jaunts to Vegas and beyond and still has many years of hugs from her granddaughters ahead of her. For my baby brother to be happy. That hubby and I can remain sane in our jobs -- and keep those jobs -- in what is a difficult time for so many workers, especially in our industry. And that our girls are healthy and secure in the knowledge that we love them truly, madly, deeply.

It's a lot to ask, and nothing that can be crossed off the list with a quick trip to the mall. Which, I guess, brings us back to the true meaning of Christmas, eh?

Baby Who is 2!!!

2008-11-15T19:26:00.007-05:00

She's been preparing us for months, with her "Noooo!" and insistence on getting her way, but now it's official: Baby Who is 2! It seems like just yesterday that we walked into a warm room in Nanchang and saw the tiniest little girl, somberly observing all the activity around her as strange-looking people entered, then took her into their arms.

Right now she's running around in a onesie with white tights, having ditched her birthday dress and decorating her clothes with blue icing and orange and purple marker from her new art kit. Ain't life grand?

2008-10-31T22:22:00.004-04:00

What do you get when you mix Dr. Seuss, a black cat and a fairy princess? Too much sugar, of course!

It's almost 10:30 p.m. and the big girls have finally crashed after a day filled with shaking down unsuspecting grownups for enough sugar to rot the teeth of a small country. Or maybe a big one. I've sorted through the stash to make sure there's nothing offensive, leaving the gummy feet and eyeballs for Who I -- who thinks such things are "Cool, dude!" And I've scarfed down a Tootsie Roll (or two) in the process.

Now I remember why folks used to say that the average American gains 7 pounds between Halloween and New Year's Day.

It's off to the treadmill I go...

5 and Fabulous

2008-10-19T19:26:00.005-04:00

How time flies! My big girls turn 5 this week, Who II on Monday and Who I on Thursday. They're not little girls anymore, but teenagers in training (think I'm kidding? Who I informed me yesterday, "Mommy, I need a cell phone." Ack!). They've left Baby Einsteins in the dust in favor of Hannah Montana and are so excited to lose that first tooth that Who I offered to pay the tooth fairy to take it. They never cease to amaze.

We've drawn out the celebration this year, mostly due to my inability to get my act together in time to throw a party. Last week it was a surprise trip to see Steven Curtis Chapman in concert, a two-hour drive after preschool that probably no sane parent would have attempted. Lucky for us, SCC played the first set, so when Who I looked at me at intermission and said, "Mommy, I'm tired and want to go home," we scooted. No offense to Michael W. Smith, whose set we missed, but my Cinderellas were about to turn into pumpkins. But they had a good time while they were awake.

Yesterday was the outing with their BFFs, Thing One and Thing Two and the Mama Thing. We hit a new pumpkin patch and saw four girls run non-stop for two hours. The corn maze was a huge hit, as they tried their best to lose us in the stalks. Came pretty close, too.

No birthday can come without me thinking about their other mothers. So as I kiss them an extra time this week and hold them a moment longer, I'll offer my thanks to their birth mothers. Thank you for giving life to these amazing, beautiful girls. In doing so, you gave me the very reason I breathe.

And for Who II's first adoptive mom, an added thank you, for knowing in your heart that these two were destined to be sisters, and trusting us to make it so.

One year later ...

2008-09-17T21:53:00.001-04:00

2008-09-17T21:20:00.004-04:00

Oh, how time flies!

Just a year ago today, Mom and I walked into a stuffy room in Nanchang to see the tiniest little girl waiting for us. She was nearly bald, wearing blue pajamas that matched those of her two orphanage mates, and she stood on the lap of the beautiful Chinese woman who was holding her as she looked around the room, taking the new surroundings in and probably wondering why that silly woman with the video camera was blubbering and snuffling and saying, "Oh Mom, there she is! She's so tiny!"

A year later, Baby Who is cruising rapidly toward 2. We've seen her take her first steps, heard her utter her first words (Mama! So eat your heart out, Daddy!) and watched her charm everyone she meets. But more importantly, we have watched her bond with her two big sisters, completing our journey to become a family of five.

Our house is seldom quiet. It most certainly is never dull. We get frustrated and overwhelmed by the day-to-day life that is two working parents, three children under the age of 5 and pets who inevitably do something they shouldn't. And we wouldn't have it any other way. Because amid the chaos is more laughter than I ever thought possible, more joy from a fierce hug and "I love you, mommy" than I believed my heart could handle, and more gratitude to a group of women we'll never meet for making a choice that ultimately led us to the most precious gift of all: our children.

So whether you call it Gotcha Day or Family Day or simply "Thank God we made it" day after a long, agonizing wait, know that the journey IS worth it. And that tiny bundle who captivates you in your dreams is SO much better in reality.

Summer's last hurrah

2008-08-30T21:46:00.005-04:00

Labor Day signals the end of summer, regardless of what the calendar says. The pools close. Kids return to school. And you put away those white shoes until Easter if you ever listened to what your mama told you.

So what better way to usher out the dog days of summer than a trip to the beach?

I spent a dozen years in New England and didn't appreciate what I had -- the ocean at my fingertips, some of the best seafood in the world and history galore. But what I did appreciate was my dear friend who anchored me through relationship storms, fed me more meals than I can ever repay, helped housebreak my dog and shoveled me out from a foot of snow one Christmas as I was flying back from a trip to see my folks. They just don't make them better than the Fabulous K.

K and her delightful hubby J hosted the Three Whos, Mama Who and Grandma Who this past week, and a grand time was had by all. We zoo'd it, did a cookout with seven kiddos under the age of 5, checked out the Children's Museum, went north to Beantown and -- oh, yeah -- hit the beach. Ate my favorite foods, drank my favorite frozen lemonade and scarfed down the best cinnamon rolls in the land. But mostly, I had quality time with the Whos. And maybe, just maybe, they'll be Mama's girls for at least a week!

Gold medal questions

2008-08-18T21:06:00.002-04:00

Watching the Olympic Games with the Three Whos has been an experience. I cried at the opening ceremonies -- lip-synching and fake fireworks beside the point. It was amazing to watch, to remember standing across from the Bird's Nest less than a year ago as I waited anxiously to get the heck out of Beijing and go meet Baby Who.

But the Big Whos have lots of questions about the Olympics. They want to know at every commercial, "Is it over now?" The wanted to know what all the performers were doing at the opening ceremonies, why they were flying through the air, how things worked.

But the burning question is one of fashion, prompted by our first viewing of women's gymnastics.

"Are they wearing panties, mama?"

Go figure.

A whole lotta 'tude

2008-07-31T21:02:00.004-04:00

Baby Who has entered a new phase. At least, I keep telling myself it's just a phase. Surely it can't last. SURELY. (Yeah, yeah, who am I calling Shirley?)

It started innocently enough a few months ago with the single utterance of the word "No." Not just "No," but "Nooooooo," drawn out like a whoopee cushion losing its air.

That single act of defiance has escalated this past month into what I fear is full-fledged independence. Get this: She does not like the clothes I pick out for her.

Mind you, this child is Not Yet 2.

I am doomed.

So our morning pleasantries have given way to battles as she shakes her head in rejection as I pull out one outfit after another. Today she agreed to wear the short overalls I chose but didn't want a T-shirt. I tried it without the shirt and she looked X-rated. Sorry, kid, but you've gotta cover those baby boobies.

She was not pleased.

Maybe this is her early rebellion at the realization that, as the youngest, she's going to inherit a LOT of hand-me-downs. Maybe she's just mad as hell.

Or maybe she's going to be a fashion diva.

You be the judge.

Adventures of Bubble Butt and her trusty sidekicks

2008-06-08T15:13:00.006-04:00

OK, technically it's still spring. But when the mercury hits 94 degrees by noon, it sure feels like summer. So what better way to spend the day than in the new shark-shaped wading pool? (Can I hear some "Jaws" music, please?)

The little mermaids, led by Queen Bubble Butt (no little swimmers small enough, so a regular diaper had to do) went at it with gusto. I'm not sure the pool will ever be the same.

Conversations

2008-06-06T10:20:00.006-04:00

Some of the best conversations I have with my big girls occur in the car on the way to or from preschool. No, it doesn't make me mother of the year. But it seldom fails to entertain, or make me think.

This is where I get the reports on who did what to whom, on whether the classroom problem child pulled a stunt, on what made them smile -- or what they're looking forward to.

Today's ramblings would have made an existentialist proud: We covered everything from death and funerals, sparked by the recent, unexpected loss of their Grandma Janie, to mommy's "boo-boo" (recent surgery that's put me out of the lifting game for six weeks) to the perils of cigarettes to how Santa landed his sleigh in our front yard and ate the cookies we left before he brought in his bag of goodies. Who I announced she's going to ask the Jolly Old Elf this year for a monkey, a giraffe and a lion -- oh my!. Who II, nicknamed Loudly for her lack of volume control at times, announced that the next time she's upset, I'm to tell her, "Cry in your quiet voice." And Baby Who joined in with the primal grunts that have earned her the nickname Puma, for the way she screeches "Noooooooooo!" like a jungle cat when she doesn't want to do what she's told.

These conversations with the Whos often resemble a tennis match, my head bobbing back and forth between them as I try to catch Every Single Word while keeping my eyes simultaneously on the road in front and the rear-view mirror. The other drivers must think I have a nervous tic. I'd rather think of it as the Mommy Mojo, multi-tasking as I bee-bop in my minivan down the highway.

It's not always a peaceful ride, to be sure. Sometimes (gasp!) they fight. Sometimes I'm playing the same song on the CD over and over to keep the peace. Some days, my thoughts are elsewhere -- on the work day ahead, worries at home, the pain people I care about are struggling with, the idiot who cut in front of me. But on a morning like today, when the sun's shining brightly, everyone brushed their teeth, their hair doesn't look like rat slept in it and all are fed and happy, life is so, so sweet.

Even IF daddy put Baby Who's shoes on the wrong feet.

Mother's Day blessings

2008-05-11T21:42:00.002-04:00

On Mother's Day weekend of 2005, I stood in front of a group of people considering international adoption during a meeting at a local church. I was about to mark my first Mother's Day as a mom to a beautiful, zany, squirmy 18-month-old girl, and all I could think about was how that miracle never would have happened if I hadn't sat in their seats and if DH and I hadn't taken the biggest leaps of faith of our lives. It never could have happened if, a world away, a woman I'll never meet hadn't made a choice -- to give her child life, then leave her, for reasons we'll never know.

This year, my thoughts are heavy with that woman, and the birthmothers of my other two daughters, as well as Who II's first adoptive mom, who so tragically learned that the concept of a "forever family" doesn't always prove to be reality.

I wonder whether Who I's zany sense of humor comes from her first mother, whether Who II's attention to detail and quiet play are inherited or the product of environment as she watched her adoptive mom fight a horrific health battle. I watch Baby Who soak up the world around her, then cackle with delight as she figures something out, and can't help but think of the families who'll never know these girls, who cannot possibly fathom the joy they bring to our lives, even as we shoulder the sobering knowledge that our joy is likely built on someone else's painful circumstances.

I often think that if those mothers and I could have just 10 minutes together, I could get some answers to the questions my daughters will ask, to the questions I have. Ten minutes to capture the choices and experiences of a lifetime, boil them down so three beautiful girls whose lives were dictated by circumstances beyond their control can know not just where they come from, but make peace with the decisions that brought them to us.

It'll never happen, of course. So we're left to find other routes. We talk about those first moms on a regular basis. We validate whatever our girls are feeling, and if that means we talk about death and dying more than any 4-year-old should, so be it. We're also creating a mother's garden, a quiet place in our yard where we can go to think about those other mothers. I hope it will be a place where we can gather our thoughts, be they happy or sad, and know that no matter what journey brought us together, no matter how painful the path, we are richer together than we ever were apart.

And even when I'm tired or frustrated, I try to remember to tell my girls what I told them today: The best thing about my life is the fact that, despite all the mistakes and bad choices I've made over the years, I was still given the chance to do the most important thing I'll ever do: become their mom.

It's the best Mother's Day gift of all.

Photo Ops

2008-05-10T23:01:00.003-04:00

Today was family picture day. We figured Baby Who has been home nearly eight months and it was time to get all five of us in a picture taken by someone who knew what they're doing. First mission -- finding matching dresses. Check. Second mission -- clearing all noses of boogers. Check. Third -- getting the photos taken without either parent having an apoplectic fit. Check (but it was touch and go there for a while!).

Getting good expressions on three kiddos in the same frame is, shall we say, a challenge. A big, freakin' challenge. The pricier place we've had photos taken offers to take the head from one photo and plunk it onto the body in another to ensure you get all the expressions you want. All this for a mere $15 a head. It just sounds so cannibalistic to me that I haven't had the guts to try it. "Cut off the baby's head and plop it over here, whydon'tcha?" Eeew.

So all heads are intact. No heads rolled. But as you can see from this outtake, at least ONE head may be short a few strands after the shoot.

Wagons, Ho!

2008-04-22T21:47:00.005-04:00

Perhaps a better title for this post would be "Off the Wagon," as I've been informed that I've been sorely lacking as a blogster/blogmistress/whatever you call it. OK, I fess up -- things are crazy here.

But for those who demand updates, here ya go.

Whos I & II are now officially 4.5 years old. They're such big girls now! We've had some ups and downs in recent weeks, including the episode two weeks ago when Who II informed me, "I hate you! I don't want a mom and dad anymore! I don't like this house!" Um, did I mention she's 4, not 14? Oy. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Puberty's gonna kill us.

Then there's Who I, who's decided that when she grows up (which, in her mind, is when she turns 6, the same year she says she'll go to high school), she's going to build a rocket ship and fly her daddy to the moon. When I reminded her that daddy hates to fly, she revised her plan. "Daddy can stay here with Who II and III and I'll take YOU to the moon, Mama!" Sounds good to me. Sometimes, they send me into orbit already!

Baby Who has cracked 20 pounds and is officially the oldest in her preschool class. She's just hit 17 months, so we're hoping they don't rush us into the terrible 2s classroom anytime soon. She's perfected the word "Nooooooo!" and is well into words that start with the letter B: Bird, bubble, bath, baba, and my personal favorite, BUTT! (said as she pats said body part with a huge grin on her face).

Mama Who and Daddy Who are just plain tired. We're staring at house projects desperately in need of doing, wondering how EVERY seal on our windows could fail at the same time, debating the merits of roof vs. fog-free windows or simply pitching a tent in Grandma Who's backyard. Ah, life. Nothing a little MegaMillions jackpot couldn't fix!

But we're finally having some warm weather, so we broke out the little red wagon today after trying Baby Who on the tricycle and realizing she still has the shortest legs in the universe. But the wagon -- she was rocking and rolling! And look at Who I pull her weight and that of her sisters. She's our resident pack mule!

Hope spring has sprung for one and all.

Of Date Night, Babysitters and SCC

2008-03-02T09:21:00.003-05:00

The Three Whos have actually survived their first night with a babysitter who isn't related to them. Better yet, the babysitter survived and is willing to come back!

The occasion? Date night for Mama and Papa Who, consisting of front-row concert tickets and a meet-and-greet with Steven Curtis Chapman afterward.

For anyone who doesn't know, SCC is a popular Christian music singer who has adopted three daughters from China, and he and his wife have set up a foundation to help others bridge the financial gap so they can help children all over find their forever families. His adoption ministry is phenomenal and is a wonderful example of how people can use the gifts they're given to change the world. It's a message that resonates with us even as it moves us to tears. This is the second time we've seen him since we adopted Who I in 2004, and both times I've left the show inspired to find more ways to help bring children and families together.

One thing he said was really sobering: Every 18 seconds, a child somewhere in the world becomes an orphan. They had a counter running during last night's show that brought home the point -- I think it was up past 500 by the end of the evening.

Proceeds from the auction go to the adoption foundation he and his wife established, Shaohannah's Hope. Friends of ours probably could not have brought their daughter home without the help of a grant they received in 2004, so I was eager to share our own adoption story and theirs as thanks for what he does for so many adoptive families. He was really gracious and touched by our family's story, and tickled to see a photo of our friend's daughter. Theirs is one of 1,600 families the foundation has helped so far, and a new family is being helped at each stop on the tour. Last night, an adoptive family received a $4,500 grant.

If you get a chance, check him out. It's time well-spent.

All dogs go to heaven

2008-02-17T09:25:00.005-05:00

After 12.5 years, the day I'd been dreading finally came yesterday -- I had to let my "first baby" go. She was hanging on physically, but mentally we'd seen a downward spiral, with her days and nights confused. She couldn't sleep when she needed to and couldn't hear very well.

This past week, she just seemed so sad. I made the appointment for yesterday morning so my mom could go with me, and I spent three nights on the family room couch with the dog, never sleeping more than about 15 minutes at a time before she would want in or out.

Even though I had cats before I got her, Josie (named because I had Josie & the Pussycats) was my first baby, the first time I felt really needed. She gave me a reason to get up each day, something to come home to, at a time when my personal life pretty much sucked. I tell people she kept me from throwing myself in front of a bus.

We had great adventures. We hung out at the beach in New England, a pale-skinned mama and her too-hot fuzzy sled dog. We made the 900-mile journey by van back to the Midwest, with her refusing to pee the entire way. She became the expert bunny killer in our old neighborhood -- I'm convinced there's still a chalk outline from the time DH found just ears and a tail. Dumb bunny!

She even tolerated the arrival of Who I, followed too soo for her liking by Whos II and III. Once she figured out they were a food source, she was OK with them. I'm sure she ate her weight in macaroni and cheese and stolen chicken nuggets in the last three years.

She had the softest ears and most beautiful white eyelashes. She sang -- "ah-roo-roo-roo" -- for treats, our own fuzzy opera gal. And she gave the absolute best kisses.

In the end, she let me know when she was ready. I'm grateful I was able to listen to her. Keeping her going would have been so selfish.

We told our big girls that Josie was going to heaven, and why. We cried a lot and tried to explain it in terms a 4-year-old could understand. It was especially important for DD#2, who has already experienced so much loss in her life, to know that you CAN say goodbye, that it's OK to be sad.

And bless her heart, while I was at the vet, Who II drew me a picture that now sits on the refrigerator, right next to a photo of Josie as a puppy.

It's a dog with angel wings.

Dire conditions

2008-02-03T21:35:00.000-05:00

News accounts of the winter storms that have crippled China have failed to mention an area very close to my heart -- the conditions in the orphanages. But through a couple of fantastic organizations that help the children still waiting for families, the adoption community has gotten a pretty clear picture of how things are going.

It's grim.

Many orphanages have no heat and can't afford coal, which has skyrocketed. They're running out of disposable diapers. Food supplies are dwindling, and at least one city I've read about is rationing noodles to four packs per family. And, especially in the southern provinces, which are ill-equipped to deal with prolonged cold, it's a monumental challenge just to keep the children warm.

There has been no word about my daughters' two orphanages. Both are in southern provinces heavily affected by the snow, so I can only assume they are struggling. Baby Who's orphanage, in particular, is a poor one.

My children are safe and sound in their beds tonight, tucked under blankets with full bellies and parents who love them more than life itself. But there are children suffering. There are parents waiting to travel, not able to find out if the children whose pictures they've held for weeks are OK.

I am grateful to organizations like Half the Sky and Our Chinese Daughters Foundation, which are trying heroically to get supplies to those in need. I'm humbled by the outpouring from the adoptive community, which just rallied to help Love Without Boundaries win a $50,000 Facebook charitable challenge to perform life-saving surgery on Chinese orphans with heart conditions and is now stepping up in droves to help children most will never meet.

I'm proud to be part of this community. And I'm off to do my part.

Santa and cookies -- oh my!

2007-12-25T21:38:00.000-05:00

In the category of kids say the darnedest things:

Who I was worried about Santa and all the cookies he eats. Not so much his waistline, mind you, but the -- shall we say, residual effects? -- of all that sugar. So she asked daddy a Very Important Question before hitting slumberland on Christmas Eve.

Who I: "Daddy, what if Santa eats all those cookies and has to poop?"

Daddy: "Um, I think he feeds some to his reindeer, so it shouldn't be a problem."

Who I: "But Daddy, what if he has to poop in our BATHROOM?"

Daddy: Speechless. Finally, "I think Santa has a trap door that he can use if he has to poop while he flies his sleigh."

Who I: "Ewww. But I don't want him to poop in our bathroom. That would be DISGUSTING!"

I'm pleased to report that Christmas has come and gone with no Santa "presents" in the commode, just under the tree as planned. We have survived a church service in which someone -- hint: not me -- decided it was a good idea to give two 4-year-olds a lit candle for the final song. I had visions of having to invoke "Stop, drop and roll" in the church balcony as tendrils of nicely coiffed hair drifted perilously close to the flame. Super Daddy survived potential hypothermia as he assembled Santa's gifts (including the aforementioned eBay toybox, which looks lovely, I might add!) in 20-degree weather in the garage. And I, mama, plan to don my kerchief for a long winter's nap this evening as I prepare for my return tomorrow to the working world after three blissful months as a full-time mom.

But before the hurly burly hits full-force, I'd be remiss not to acknowledge all we've been blessed with. Our riches can't be counted in dollars and cents; two adoptions in 18 months does not a happy bank balance make, and nearly three months with only one income is the nail in that coffin.

Rather, we have Who I, who came home from grandma's tonight with her new camera and announced she was "going to turn on the beautiful Christmas lights and take a picture to remember Christmas."

We have Who III, who might never had had a Christmas with us if not for the hard work of our adoption agency and a lot of divine intervention.

And we have Who II, our daughter who went to hell and back in her first three years, clamoring for my attention in the car on Christmas Eve. Suddenly, sweetly, she proclaimed: "Mommy? I love you."

All may not be calm in our household, but it's certainly bright. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Top 3 reasons 4-year-olds and computers don't mix

2007-12-02T20:14:00.000-05:00

1) eBay.
2) eBay.
3) eBay.

I was surfing said auction site for a last Santa item for Baby Who, but also looking at other sites to see if the prices I saw were, indeed, good deals. While deep in the throes of power shopping, Who I called for assistance from the bathroom, so off I went to do bottom duty -- foolishly forgetting to close all windows before leaving the poor computer vulnerable to attack.

In swoops Who II, who apparently liked the looks of the pretty yellow 'Buy it Now' button and clicked. After all, you just click the button to start the educational Elmo games, right? Makes perfect sense.

The pretty yellow button has cost Mommy Santa $108.95. But Baby Who will be overjoyed with her new Nantucket toy box. Right? RIGHT????

Ack.

Let her eat cake!

2007-11-17T22:09:00.000-05:00

Baby Who has turned 1, and we marked the occasion today with cake and gifts.

Little Miss Persnickety was having none of the throw-your-hand-in-the-cake-and-smear-it-in-your-hair foolishness that Who I embraced. No siree Bob, Baby Who just stared blankly at us when we put the cake in front of her. After about 5 minutes of me eagerly saying "Go for it! Smash that cake!" with camera at the ready, I finally got her a spoon to see if that would help. Yes! Apparently, we have a Miss Manners in the works -- it must be way uncool in Baby Whodom to eat birthday cake with her grubby little mitts.

So off she went, smearing a wee bit o' icing in the process -- but nothing resembling the Great Cake Smashing of Who I in 2004. Oh well, it saved me a bath! But she licked the plate clean!

Now, if I could just figure out how to get her to like whole milk ...

A state of neglect

2007-11-11T23:36:00.000-05:00

I've been informed that I've been derelict in my duty to update the blog. "Nothing since Halloween???" the adoring masses cry. "What's new???" others demand.

Honestly, I don't have the energy to argue. So even though it's nearly midnight, and the wee Whos will be up way too early, here ya go.

Our big excitement since Halloween has been the big trek out East to show off the Whos to grandma and great-grandma. Over the river, through the woods we went -- stopping at every potty along the way. But we made it there and back safe and sound, and the kiddos were a hit with all who encountered their active little butts.

But I've never been so happy to see my own house and bed in my life. Close to 11 hours in a car with three kids under 5 is not my idea of a good time.

And I'm still wondering how one tiny baby can require me to pack SO MUCH CRAP. Portable crib. Portable high chair. Clothes out the wazoo, because heaven forbid she soil herself and require me to do laundry in a foreign environment. It's just unimaginable. We had so much stuff wedged in the Mazda that it lost its zoom zoom. Make a commercial about THAT, folks!

With that, I bid you adieu. Coming up: The cake-smearing festival, or Baby Who's 1st birthday.

Halloween treats

2007-10-31T20:25:00.000-04:00

OK, I admit it. My munchkins are unique. Take their Halloween experience, for example.

Instead of racing door to door demanding candy like the other crazed goblins in our neighborhood, they wanted to stay home and hand out candy. And not just when kids rang the doorbell.

They solicited trick-or-treaters. Threw open the door and Who II bellowed, in her best Ethel Merman impersonation, "HEY, KIDS! We got a LOT of CANDY HERE!"

Then, they'd yell, "You have to ring the doorbell!" and slam the door, refusing to open it until the goblins did their bidding.

Who I would carefully count the number of kids awaiting treats, then dole out the appropriate amount of treats. Who II had door duty, opening and closing, hollering "BYE BYE!" as the ghouls and monsters (and a couple of girls dressed as the "Deal or No Deal" bimbos) trotted off to their next conquest.

Baby Who was adorable in her pumpkin costume and scoped out the treat bowl -- even figuring out how to unwrap a lollipop all by herself.

Imagine the disappointment when 8 p.m. came and we informed the Big Whos that all the trick-or-treaters were back at their houses, basking in sugar highs. "No, some people might still come," Who I insisted. She finally gave up the ghost about 8:15.

Now, don't think I've sucked the joy out of the ghostly activities. They DID trick-or-treat at preschool -- and came home with such a mother lode that I could have avoided buying candy at all and just "regifted" what they got. They'll NEVER eat it all in a year. And they did visit a handful of houses in the neighborhood to show off their costumes and see their friends. But their true joy was in giving out the candy.

'Tis definitely better to give than receive, even on Halloween.

Cheetah girl and the Princess

2007-10-31T09:20:00.000-04:00

Here they are, off for a sugar-filled day at school, trick-or-treating 'til they turn into pumpkins themselves.

Speaking of which, where, oh where, is the baby's pumpkin outfit? Must find!

The sisters three

2007-10-30T19:43:00.000-04:00

Today was a Kodak moment. Literally. I broke out my trusty camera and -- after a month of trying -- came up with a picture of all three girls looking pretty good! Usually, Who I makes a goofy face (she's a real ham -- see what I mean?), Who II pouts or closes her eyes or the baby cries and tries to get away, leaving me with a wailing blur instead of the adorable Baby Who she is.

Rest assured, we had our share of silly outtakes. But finally -- success!

Dare I make the appointment for the professional Christmas picture?

I'm thrilled to finally have a decent picture of all three. I plan to send it, along with a translated letter, to Baby Who's orphanage. We want to thank them again for all they did for her, and tell her how well she is doing -- and what better way to overcome the language barrier than through pictures? My dear dad the photographer, who never got to meet his granddaughters, definitely would have approved.

Rambling

2007-10-29T12:46:00.000-04:00

How much can an at-home mom cram into a week? Try physicals for two 4-year-olds at two different pediatricians. A mental health appointment for one of them. A new furnace and air conditioner one day. Duct cleaning the next. Throw in a quick trip to the vet for the itchy and inappropriately peeing cat and you've got yourself a full week! Gee, and I thought I'd be bored. Doesn't leave much time for scintillating conversation -- especially when your main companion mostly says "ahhhh-ya-ya," "dat!" and "doh" -- for dumb barking dog. Then again, she does throw in a very loud "MAMA!" every now and then, so I guess it's worth it. But now it's Monday, and the Big Whos are at school, and it's just me and the squirt (who, by the way, I predict will top 15 lbs at her 1-year checkup in a couple of weeks!). We're deep in the throes of list-making as we prepare to take the herd east to introduce the newest grandbaby to her Grandma Jane. Eight hours in the car with three active but confined-against-their-will children. Egad. But I'll obsess on that later. Right now, I have to find the damn cat ears that I just had the other day. Who I insists she'll be a cat for Halloween for the second year in a row. I have everything but the ears -- and an earless cat is the stuff Halloween nightmares are made of.

Hallmark moment

2007-10-21T21:45:00.001-04:00

Tonight, I asked the big girls, "So, what do you think about this whole baby sister thing now that she's been home awhile?"

Who II, who has had the hardest adjustment, replied, "I like her!"

Who I, naturally, snorted like a pig and hauled the baby around like a sack of potatoes. But we KNOW she's in love with Baby Who.

Baby Who, meanwhile, once again defied all logic and managed to avoid the afternoon nap so she could party with the big Whos. Egad. I did catch her once, sprawled in the beanbag chair as she searched for her second wind.

Awwww.

Birthdays

2007-10-20T20:49:00.000-04:00

Today was the Birthday Bonanza at our house. With just three days between the big girls' 4th birthdays, we combined them for one bash that kicked our butts. But the big girls -- and even Baby Who, who partied like it was 1999 -- seemed to have a good time.

We started the day with a frenzied cleaning of the house, a mad dash to pick up the cake and pizza and a strong push for naps. "You have to nap if you want to see your friends and have the party." Yeah, it was blackmail. But it worked.

Then it was off to the nearby bowling alley, where we met their best friends -- Thing One and Thing Two and their Mama Thing -- for a rousing round of duckpin bowling.

Now, I LIKE bowling. Used to go with my folks and my grandparents, and while I was never great at it, I enjoyed it. I found it especially therapeutic when in the throes of a bad relationship: just put a face on those pins and steeeee-rike!

I'm also a bit competitive. So imagine my dismay when my well-ordered plan for which girl went first dissolved into chaos as different girls would bowl each half of the same frame, go out of order, etc. Mama Thing just rolled her eyes as I realized that in the world of 4-year-olds, the only order is "ME FIRST!"

No records were set, but no toes were crushed by the shotput-sized ball, either. All had a good time. Then it was back to the house for pizza and cake and the mayhem that is having two girls opening presents at once.

It's now 9 p.m. and Baby Who -- who refused an afternoon nap because she, too, got caught up in the hype -- has crashed at last. The Big Whos are still going strong, fueled by sugar and the joy that is being 4. Mr. Fixit and I are dragging -- and cringing at the realization we get to do this all again in less than a month, when Baby Who turns 1.

And then comes Christmas!

More wine, please!

Casting a spell

2007-10-17T13:53:00.000-04:00

We've always thought our big girls were brilliant, and Baby Who shows much promise as well -- she loves the remote control, the power button on the computer, and is fascinated by everything she sees (except a diaper at changing time, when she becomes Octopus Baby and wriggles away).

But proof of the big girls' brain power came recently when Who I decided she wanted to "spell daddy's shirt."

I'd brought home the T-shirt as a souvenir from a weeklong work trip to Utah. The T-shirt celebrates a popular beverage and cultural elements of the Beehive State.

Who I got off to a great start: "P-O-L-Y-G-A-M-Y P-O-R-T-E-R," she spelled proudly, never missing a letter. "What's that say, daddy?"

"Polygamy Porter," we told her. Now, why do I think we're soon going to have to explain what polygamy means -- and that, please please please, it's not for her?

Who II was not to be outdone. But instead of reading daddy's shirt, she decided to read mommy a story. Out came "The Cat in the Hat," her favorite book to read with grandpa.

Page by page, she captured the story line beautifully -- right down to the dialogue of "Sit, sit, sit!" Grandpa would have been proud.

Our big girls are getting bigger -- they turn 4 on Saturday and Tuesday. It's hard to believe. Soon they'll be asking for the keys to the car and staying out past my bedtime (which is getting earlier and earlier with three kiddos!).

Happy almost birthday, big girls -- and watch out for Baby Who. She's sneaking up on you!

The not-so-great pumpkin

2007-10-08T20:37:00.001-04:00

Daycare was closed today, supposedly because Christopher Columbus decided to sail the ocean blue in 1492, so here I was, three Whos in hand, once again. Snot was flowing freely, but sanity was teetering on the brink. What's a mom to do? Go to the pumpkin patch, of course!

So I loaded up the Who van and we trekked up the road to meet Thing One and Thing Two and their Mama Thing. Up in the hay wagon we went (it was 90 degrees in October -- what's THAT all about?). Out to the pumpkin patch we lurched, only to have Baby Who promptly decide that she was hot and hungry and highly annoyed by this quest for the great gourd.

We made fairly quick work of finding little pumpkins for the little pumpkins. Then back in the wagon we went for our happy trot back to Whoville.

No Whos fell out of the wagon. Who I did at one point decide she couldn't get out of the pumpkin patch by herself. so Who II went back in and got her (a rousing RAH RAH for big sister, who recovered nicely from her earlier episode of biting Who I's thumb because Who I wouldn't cede the hand sanitizer to her). All in all, a success. Baby steps, yes. And yes, the Mama Thing took my big girls to the port-o-potty because I had Baby Who strapped to me like a hot, sweaty grenade. But darn it all, we had our first outing without two parents to herd the brood. And we all returned alive.

Naturally, I came home and celebrated with a wee glass o' wine.

Other highlights: Baby Who discovered the baby piano. Jerry Lee Lewis, eat your heart out. She also discovered the Asian baby doll that's Just The Right Size. Who is this creature, she seemed to be wondering. (Hey, it doesn't pee, poop or urp -- it's my fourth child!). Oh, and I heard myself yell at the Big Whos, "Put the magic wand down NOW and no one will get hurt!" A fine moment indeed. (OK, I'm still rough around the edges here.)

Happily, all the tots are snoozing now. The snot has flowed to a trickle. Tomorrow is a school day for the big 'uns. And I have clean laundry -- a shirt with no snot/drool/dribble/urp on it is quite the luxury, no matter how ratty the fabric.

Ah, life. It's good, no?

Go Baby

2007-10-05T10:10:00.000-04:00

Maybe it's because I'm older, or because I'm already chasing two nearly 4-year-olds. But Baby Who seems to have an unusually high level of energy -- puts that pink bunny in the battery commercials to shame.

She has two speeds -- warp and stop. She'll go full-tilt until she is exhausted, then crash to recharge. Then she's up and on the move again. Ack!

She came home in amazing shape -- crawling up a storm, pulling herself up on the furniture and scooting along, nearly ready to walk. She wants to crawl up the stairs constantly. She's managed to remove nearly half of our door stoppers (she has some intense dislike for them, I think).

In a nutshell, she's BUSY.

I'm thinking I need more caffeine.

But I do have a proud badge of honor -- yesterday I kept the big girls home because they were under the weather, so I flew solo with all three for the first time. I have to confess, it scared the bejeepers out of me at first. I so admire at-home moms with multiple children who just make it seem so effortless. I can tell you, for me it was NOT effortless. (Though I did manage to bathe before DH left for work.)

But everyone was fed and changed, and only I seemed the worse for wear. Who II even spent some time playing with Baby Who one-on-one, which was beautiful to see. I think they're growing on each other.

Last night, the pups were all tuckered out. Who I decided she wanted to sleep in baby sister's room, so we let her. She was thrilled!

Today, it's just me and the squirt. I'm off to the laundry wars (how can one tiny
baby generate so much more laundry?) and then to copy all our paperwork so we can register her adoption, since I traveled without DH. I'm sure she'll be a BIG helper for that (Kinko's, watch out!).

Random Musings (or, diary of a tired mom)

2007-09-30T20:58:00.000-04:00

We're on our third day as parents of three Whos, and today was definitely a challenge. The baby napped a total of 1 hour. Yup, ONE HOUR. She's having crib phobia -- not sure why -- and screamed hysterically last night every time I tried to put her in bed. So she finally fell asleep strapped to me in the baby carrier as I tried in vain to stay awake. I propped myself up so I wouldn't roll over, and eventually I was able to get her in the crib. But oh, my aching neck and back!

The big girls didn't nap either today. Who II tried to pick up the squirming baby and wound up dropping her on her head. Who I had massive meltdowns. It's time to get them back in their routine, so off to school they go tomorrow. Mom and Dad need a day to recover!

The best part of the day was when I put Baby Who in her special Baby Who-sized bathtub. Who I decided she wanted in the tub too, so the two of them hung out and splashed each other and laughed. It was great to see the baby engage big sister. Who II was mad that she couldn't get in the tub too, but there simply was no room for 70 pounds of two big sisters and another 14 pounds of baby sister, plus the baby tub. She gets the next turn!

Switching to a zone defense after playing man-to-man isn't easy. I find myself constantly stopping to think, "How am I going to fix lunch for the big girls and feed the baby at the same time?" or "The baby's wet but the big girls appear poised to play with sharp kitchen utensils. What to do?" Bedtime is a challenge while Baby Who has her anti-crib fits; if I put her in the crib, she screams bloody murder. But it's important to have time with the big Whos, especially Who II, who has four songs we sing nightly as our bedtime ritual. Hopefully we'll get the baby into a routine where she's asleep before the big girls, and it all will be easier. Cross your fingers (and feel free to clear all knives, forks and other utensils from my kitchen).

On a different note, I know many people have speculated that the Olympics next year are part of the reason for the slowdown in China. I don't know whether that's true or not, but our coordinator in China indicated that our agency expects families to continue to travel during the Olympics. But instead of going to Beijing first, she said families would go straight to their province. Not sure if other agencies are saying the same, but it's what we were told.

I also want to say something about the people we met while in China. We were blessed with a travel group that brought wonderful perspective to our journey. There was the family who adopted a 12-year-old girl who sings like an angel -- yet has no sight. There was another couple who came to adopt their eighth child -- a little girl who didn't speak English, yet told our coordinator (who translated) that she loved her new mom and dad and that the sad times were over. Every single person in our travel group was special.

We also met a couple with another agency who met their daughter, only to realize something was terribly wrong. Their agency helped them get medical advice and it turns out she had severe cerebral palsy. This was an NSN adoption. They agonized over what to do, but because of family circumstances at home, decided they had to decline the referral. It was heartbreaking to give up the daughter they'd fallen in love with.

The woman wanted to come home empty-handed. Her husband urged her to continue and see if the CCAA would give them another referral. Ultimately, that's what happened. They came home with a daughter, just not the one they expected. They chose a new name. And they still grieve for the first daughter, even as they hope getting her condition diagnosed will mean she finds a family able to adopt a child with her special needs.

Many of us have read the account of a similar case in which no new referral was issued. It's a scary prospect no matter where you stand. But to see this family, witness their heartache personally, all I can say is that I hope never to judge another family for the decisions they make. And I wish them -- and BOTH their daughters -- the best.

Day 1 as a family of five

2007-09-28T22:23:00.000-04:00

The most important advice I can give anyone returning from an international adoption is this: Naps are your friend. Your BEST friend.

It's not just when the new baby naps, or when the siblings nap. It's when YOU nap.

Today, as we marked Day 1 as a family of five, I loved my nap. The big girls and little girl went down, and daddy fell asleep too. I was puttering around the house and it suddenly dawned on me: SLEEP WHILE YOU CAN! So I did. Aaaahhh!

Cate had us up sporadically from midnight to 2 a.m., then from 2 to 4 a.m. solid. She slept from 4 a.m. until almost 11 a.m., when I finally woke her up. But she still took her afternoon nap, and I'm hoping she'll do better tonight.

Her cold seems better, but her cheeks -- irritated by the White Swan baby bedding -- are still red. I'm sure we still have ear infection issues, but she's managing.

Her big sisters have mixed reactions. Who I adores her, lugs her around, wants to help feed and change her -- even the poopy diaper, which we'd waited three days for. She tells us, "She's a sweet baby, Mama. And she's cuddly!" Who II is less sure of what it all means. Her nose has been a bit out of joint today, understandably. When I asked both girls if they were glad I went to China to bring home baby sister, Who I emphatically said "Yes!" at the same time her sister shook her head "No!" Ah, siblings!

Cate is warming up to daddy but still gets anxious if I leave the room. She seems pretty content to play with her sisters and explore the house. Tonight she crawled up the stairs from the playroom. Egad!

Tomorrow will be interesting on two fronts. First, we bring the dog home from the kennel. We'll see how that goes! Then we plan to attend our FCC Moon Festival. It'll be our first outing with three children. Attention, friends -- if you see a grown woman sucking her thumb, that's probably me!

I'm off to take my own advice -- to sleep while I can. Enjoy!

Better late than never

2007-09-27T22:39:00.000-04:00

We finally made it home today, about 20 hours later than planned. And it was no fun.

We had uneventful flights from Guangzhou and Hong Kong, even made it to Chicago early. But O'Hare was a nightmarish gauntlet of immigration, customs, long security lines and trying to find the right elevator to take us to the right concourse. We finally made it to our gate and were resting up, so after getting us something to drink and changing Cate, I decided to go to the ladies room to freshen up. I hadn't done more than doze on the plane, and mom hadn't slept at all, but we were almost home, and we were keeping the prize in sight. Still, I figured a clean shirt and a little deodorant wouldn't hurt.

I came out five minutes later and found Mom nearly unresponsive, slumped over on the bench as Cate looked up worriedly from her perch on the floor at her feet. It was obvious that either exhaustion, or something else, had taken its toll, and we had a problem.

The flight attendant called the paramedics, and instead of hopping on the 6:05 flight, we dodged planes on the tarmac as an ambulance took us to Resurrection Medical Center in Chicago. Mom kept insisting that Cate and I come on home. There was no way I was leaving her, so Cate and I hopped into the front seat of the ambulance while mom rode in the back with the medics.

It was not where either of us wanted to be, and mom, after reviving sufficiently and hearing that her CAT scan showed no evidence of stroke, decided she was checking herself out against doctor's orders. So we spent the night in an extremely overpriced hotel, where the second bed amounted to a horrible pull-out couch, then rented a car today and drove the 3.5 hours home (mom couldn't fly because United would have demanded medical clearance, which the doctor wouldn't give).

Talk about a dramatic end to the trip.

I never imagined my reunion with my family, to introduce their long-awaited baby sister, would take place in the parking lot of a car rental company. But it did, and the fact that we were all there -- especially mom -- made the location not matter a whit. No, there are no sweet photos of the girls meeting Cate for the first time, and there's no hysterical video of us trying to find the van or use a car seat for the first time. But we all made it home, and that's what counts.

I'll post photos tomorrow when I'm conscious. Here's hoping Who III sleeps well into the night.

Almost home!

2007-09-24T23:32:00.000-04:00

Well, it's our last official day in Guangzhou. We had our famous red couch pictures, which I'll try to post from the Blenz coffee shop that's letting me use its computer for free, and we'll head to the consulate this afternoon. Then it's off to the airport at 7 a.m. tomorrow, with estimated arrival at home at 8:08 p.m. via United. PLEASE let everything go smoothly, as Miss Squirm Worm will be a challenge to keep occupied.

Mom's coming home with a bum left wing -- she took a tumble at the Chen family temple yesterday. Scared the daylights out of me. We had one of our travelmates, an orthopedic nurse, look at it. Don't think it's broken, though there could be a fracture, but she has limited range of motion. But she's a tough bird and is coping.

Leaving China this time is more emotional than before. Partly because we fought so hard for Who III, partly because I know we won't be back for many years -- until the big girls are old enough to understand. We've been blessed with so much from this country that it's hard to say goodbye. Yet no one will be happier than I when we hit US soil.

One of the best parts about this journey, besides getting Cate, was that our coordinator, Catherine, was the same person who guided us during our 2004 trip when we met both girls who eventually became Who I and II. It brings us full circle, and it's been so special to have her with us.

We've also met many lovely people. Today I explained the China adoption process to an older British couple who were dining at the White Swan and wondered why there were so many Caucasian families with Asian babies. We have been blessed with a wonderful travel group. And our friends and family at home have kept us going even when things seemed impossible.

Thank you, all, for what you've given us. Our blessings extend well beyond the Three Whos.

Next post will be from HOME!

Guangzhou

2007-09-23T23:09:00.000-04:00

Greetings from Guangzhou, where it's hot and steamy but we're glad to be out of the big cities and away from the traffic.

Our flight out of Nanchang was a nightmare -- China Southern had a 6 hour delay, no reason cited (certainly not weather!). We didn't arrive at the White Swan until 2:30 a.m., with lots of babies who hadn't slept and very tired parents. But the babies were real soldiers, did a great job.

We passed our medical exam with flying colors, despite a runny nose that hasn't quit and has evolved into an ear infection. We stopped by the White Swan clinic last night for some good Chinese medicine and hope to be on the mend before we hit the plane Wednesday morning.

The shopping in Guangzhou feels different this time -- I'm not buying everything in sight, but being selective and opting for quality over quantity this time. We found a beautiful painting of a Caucasian mother with Chinese daughter (and cat!). I'm thrilled, but my greatest Chinese treasure is Who III, who continues to amaze and delight despite her cold.

Today we strolled through the park and saw people doing Tai Chi and ballroom dancing. It was absolutely lovely.

Yesterday saw us visit a very expensive jade shop. Nice to look, not so nice to buy on our budget. But I did get a picture of the Lamborghini Guangzhou dealership for hubby. He'll be thrilled!

Later today we'll go bargain for pearls. Whee!

Mom's been a great traveling companion, willing to see everything and go everywhere. But I"m sure she'll be glad to get home to the super pups.

Probably our last post from here, as we'll have our Consulate appointment and try to pack all our goodies up for a safe flight home.

USA, here we come!

Of Temples and fries

2007-09-19T08:12:00.000-04:00

Today we visited the Teng Wang pavilion in Nanchang, where we watched a wonderful show with dancing and singing -- and a special performance of "Oh Susannah＂on the Chinese ertu. Pretty funny! Afterward, we made our way back to the hotel on our own, fending off a beggar woman who apparently took offense at my telling her "no."　We're pretty sure she called me a nasty name in Chinese. Oh well, you can't please 'em all!

Cate slept through the whole thing. Her cold and the teething really knocked her out today. She's generally a very happy baby, so we knew she was under the weather when she was fussy. So we let her sleep.

Later, we bundled her up (it's actually COOL in Nanchang and very breezy!) and headed to drop off the disposable camera with pictures the orphanage took of her. Can't wait to pick it up tomorrow. We then went to a pedestrian mall, where we were definitely a sideshow. Mom thinks she gets stared at a lot with her white hair. I think any white faces are a novelty. It won't be that way when we arrive in Guangzhou Friday, so we're enjoying the experience. I'm also looking forward to less traffic -- crossing the streets here with a baby stroller is a death-defying experience (almost as harrowing as riding in the taxi yesterday!).

We managed to order double cheeseburgers at McDonald's, and they tasted pretty much like home. It was a nice change from rice!

Tomorrow we'll visit a park and a porcelain shop. Jiangxi is known for its porcelain, so I hope to find something special for Cate to remember her homeland. This country has given us the most beautiful gifts -- our three daughters -- and we want to celebrate that heritage whenever we can.

We can't wait to get Cate home to meet the big Whos and daddy! We're halfway there!

GOTCHA!

2007-09-18T08:47:00.000-04:00

We have Who III! Little Miss Cate came into my arms about 10:40 a.m. Monday in China (10:40 p.m. Sunday for most folks back home). She never cried, studied me, looked out the window and quickly was cracking smiles. What a joy she is!

She's soooo tiny, but strong. She reminds us so much of Who I as a baby -- full of life, active as can be and a great sense of humor. Mom and I are in love, and we know Whos I & II and Baba will be too.

Monday was an exhausting day. After meeting the babies, we went to register the adoptions, get the passport photos taken and then to the notary. The registration office was swarming with adoptive families and it took more than two hours for us to have our turn. Then at the passport office the official discovered an error in our paperwork, which meant we had to come back today after the orphanage fixed the problem. We finally got the babies back to the hotel around 6:30 p.m.

Today was much more relaxed -- a trip to Walmart. Cate stayed with Mimi at the hotel napping while I went to find Huggies in the smallest size possible. Our third Who is TINY, and none of the clothes or diapers I brought fit her. The dresses will stay on, but pants ... she has no waist, no bottom ... it's a riot. One of our travelmates gave us her 3-6 months clothes that didn't fit her daughter, and I'm giving her our 6-9 months.

Our group is great. More maturity here, with 3 sets of grandparents among the 5 families. All but one couple (who got twins) are experienced parents. It's just really cool to see.

Our coordinator, who was with us on our first adoption journey, says Who III reminds her of our first daughter. We can't agree more, and I see now all the reasons for the delays. We were meant to have THIS child. And if we'd gotten a referral months ago, as we originally thought we would, she wouldn't have been ours. It's simply unimaginable.

Ni Hao from Beijing

2007-09-15T09:38:00.000-04:00

Greetings from Beijing, where it's a lot cooler than our 2004 trip but we're just as exhausted as before!

We had a long but uneventful flight to China on Wednesday/Thursday. Yesterday took us to Tiannanmen Square, the Forbidden City and then to a Chinese acrobatics show that my Big Whos would have loved. Today saw the Great Wall, where a crew was filming a Visa commercial (Visa -- it's accepted everywhere, even on the Great Wall!). Pretty interesting!

Mom did a great job making it up the wall. We did a little power shopping too (when in Rome ...). Now our bags are packed for our morning flight to Nanchang, where we'll meet Who III Monday morning (Sunday night EDT). We can't wait!

We got an update on our newest Who: She has a little cough but is healthy, and is described as very active. She should fit right in!

And we're off!

2007-09-11T21:17:00.000-04:00

The time is FINALLY here -- in about 12 hours, mom and I will be on our way to China to meet Who III! This has been an agonizing wait, much harder than our first trip (which went SO smoothly!). It's taken us 9 weeks since we first learned we had a new daughter to even get on a plane, and that's simply too long.

I've spent the last two days running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Can't remember whether I packed something or not. Struggling to get online. Still no confirmation from Panda phone, but travel agent says they got confirmation. I figure I'll just show up bedraggled in Beijing and say, "You got a phone for ME?"

We're scheduled to land in China just after 3 p.m. on Thursday -- that'll be 2 a.m. to most folks back home. Sleep tight!

I hope to be able to update the blog while we're away, but we had to scrap the laptop plan because our home Internet connection has been faulty since we "upgraded" to fiberoptics. I wasn't willing to haul another 8 pounds of gear in the off chance Mr. Fixit and the Big Whos could actually read it. I plan to hit the business centers and Internet cafes instead. Wish me luck!

We could not have done this without the support of our friends and family, who have kept us fed, entertained and clinging to our sanity these last few months. We are incredibly blessed by the people in our lives, and to have the opportunity to make a difference in another child's life. It's an awesome job.

Countdown

2007-09-09T20:55:00.000-04:00

Most folks spend their last weekend at home before heading to China doing something relaxing, or packing, or cleaning the house. Us? We ripped out the dining room carpet, painted the walls, and laid hardwood floors.

Nothing like a little deadline pressure to get our rumps in gear.

Seriously, with the arrival of Who III imminent, reality set in -- the time for home improvement projects will be gone for many months to come. The almost 4-year-olds are big helpers -- Who I hammered in boards while her sister ran the sweeper. But Baby Who isn't going to be allowed around power tools until she's at least 18 months old. No child labor available there!

The room looks good, if I do say so myself. Burgundy walls (all 8 coats -- THAT was a brilliant color choice!) on the bottom, "linen tint" on the top. I even rehung the curtains!

Wish I could say mhy packing was going as well. Still searching for the perfect combo of bags, still unsure if the laptop will actually work in China. We made the not-so-bright decision to switch our Internet and TV service to our neighborhood's new fiberoptic service. Seemed like a good idea until the installer arrived and said we were just beyond the recommended distance from the box. But he thought it would work, so here we are.

When it works, it's great. But our Internet has been really unreliable since it was installed, so I'm panicking that I may haul the beastly laptop to China for naught. The whole point was to use Skype and call home and use the Web cam to see my big girls and let them see baby sister. None of those functions is working well right now. So I'm agonizing. Nothing like having a Libra trying to make a big decision under pressure. AAAACK!!!

I keep telling myself to breathe. In a few days, none of this will matter. T-minus 60 hours .....

Gonna Getcha Day

2007-08-21T21:31:00.000-04:00

In adoption circles, many families refer to the day they meet their children as "Gotcha Day." Others object, saying "Gotcha!" is something you say when you squish a particularly annoying bug. Many in that camp prefer "Family Day" or even "Metcha Day."

What it's called will be the last thing on my mind the morning of Sept. 17, when we're to meet our new Who at the Civil Affairs Bureau in Nanchang.

She will have traveled from the only home she's known, to meet a stranger who looks funny, sounds funny, smells funny. She and I, we won't know what to make of each other. I'm trying to expect the worst -- screaming, crying, withdrawal, rejection -- so I can view anything less than that as a blessing. But I know it won't be easy, for her or for me.

Our first Who was stoic and curious when we met her -- which explains why our tender moment of union as a family quickly dissolved into video of the ceiling when she grabbed the video camera. We didn't even try to recover. She rode quietly on the bus as the babies around us cried, content to look out the window at the world passing by. We marveled at her calm demeanor.

Only later, when we watched the video back home, did we notice how haunted her eyes were.

This was a child in shock.

Only later, when we thought about it, did we realize that when she did finally cry, she was crying "Ayi! Ayi!"

She was crying for the only caregiver she'd ever known.

I hope I'm more attuned to Who III's initial reaction. I hope I remember the words to the children's songs I know, instead of singing verses from the Gilligan's Island theme song, as I did for Who I. (She got a rousing rendition of the Beverly Hillbillies song, too.) I hope she lets me help her, that she quickly finds comfort in a soothing voice, a warm embrace, in knowing that if she is wet, if she is hungry, if she is crying, her mother will be there for her.

Sleep well, my sweet. May your tummy be full and your dreams be happy ones.

$$$$$$$

2007-08-14T20:01:00.001-04:00

We have travel approval! We have plane tickets! We have no more money!

Ahhh, the joys of the final weeks to adoption, as the gentle sucking sound that has been your finances becomes a raging vortex determined to drain every last penny you have. Need to eat when you come home? Live off your fat for a while. Want to stay home with your precious bundle at least until your clock resets and the days are days and nights are nights? Forget about it. Strap that little angel on you and get back to the sweat shop.

And you know what? You don't give a damn about money. Because this journey is like one of those credit card commercials: It's priceless.

We will be one of the last groups of July referrals to travel, I think. Not sure why it all worked out that way, and it's frustrating to know some folks will be home long before we ever get on a plane in September. But I just have to keep my eye on the final result: Who III at home where she belongs.

The mouths of babes

2007-08-05T22:01:00.001-04:00

My two girls had a rough week. Mama was out of town on a business trip, and their routine was disrupted in a big way. I wasn't there to take them to school in the morning or to sing the dreaded braindead-purple-dinosaur song at bedtime. No big-big hugs or big-big kisses to be had. Singing it over the phone just didn't cut it
-- but thankfully none of my colleagues witnessed my performances!

It sucked for me at least as much as it sucked for them. Who II told me on the phone, "I cried for you, mama." Ditto, baby. Ditto.

Coming home has been hectic but sweet. DH is grateful to have another set of hands. The Whos are putting me through my paces while being especially affectionate. Even the cat seems happy I'm back.

Last night, Who I was talking about baby sister still waiting for us in China, and about my trip, when suddenly she put her head on her daddy's shoulder and announced, "You're my FAMily." I nearly bawled.

Children bring a unique perspective to our lives. They let us peer through the looking glass with them, delighting in things we might otherwise dismiss as ordinary. They enchant us with their imagination, their laughter, their innate goodness. They hold up a mirror so we see our true selves -- a picture that might not be as flattering as we'd like. And sometimes, they bring us to our knees with the simplest of statements.

We may look different. We may have different backgrounds, different life experiences, different hopes and dreams. But we are family. It doesn't get any better than that.

Deja Vu

2007-07-31T19:48:00.000-04:00

It appears we're playing the waiting game yet again. Tick, tick, tick ... is that a TA I hear? Nope, just another "no news today" post from my agency. I can't believe it's been 3.5 weeks since we first heard about Who III and there's still no news.

Admittedly, we were spoiled by our first adoption -- TAs arrived 2.5 weeks after referrals came in. Given that nothing on this adoption train is moving quickly anymore, it stands to reason that we're going to have to wait longer to see our precious bundle.

But in the interest of perspective, I met a woman today who is adopting her first and only child from China. She's 45, DH is 55. She's 14 months into the wait and her agency tells her to expect to have at least that much more to go.

When you think about it that way, I guess a few more weeks is nothing.

Oh, who am I kidding? I WANT MY BABY!!!

Pound for pound

2007-07-25T20:57:00.000-04:00

The first three weeks after referral are some of the hardest you'll endure. Now you know your child. You've seen her face. You can feel her in your arms. You worry -- is she getting enough to eat? Is she healthy? What will she need when we finally meet? You're waiting for TA. You don't know when you'll travel. You're trying to plan, yet find yourself running around in circles, waiting for China to say, "OK, come get her."

When we received our referral for Who III, the first thing I seized on was how small she was. She had gained only 2 pounds from birth to 4 months, according to the informaton. She was almost four pounds lighter than the other two babies from the same SWI. So I've worried more about this one, hoping she's OK.

Today we got updates, and they are wonderful! Pictures and measurements taken this week show she's still tiny but has grown at a much faster rate. She's finally knocking on the door of the Chinese growth chart (though still not in the 3rd percentile). Better yet, she looks GREAT!

More good news: Some agencies already are receiving TAs! I think ours won't come just yet, as our acceptances didn't go over as quickly. But they're coming, and I can feel that insane mix of panic/excitement begin to take root. Euphoria, here I come!

Random musings

2007-07-18T20:10:00.000-04:00

It's hard to believe it's been almost two weeks since we got our referral. It seems it's been eons, yet just yesterday. Right now we're in that strange state of suspended animation. We're running around like crazy, trying to get the "China shopping list" knocked out, the baby's room ready, finish all those home-improvement projects that have been sitting around for months. Rip out dining room carpet and install hardwoods? No problem. Paint kitchen? Check. Replant entire yard killed by Midwestern drought? I don't THINK so.

Naturally, we're anxious for news of travel approvals. When will we leave? How much time do I have to train my replacement at work? How much longer will I have to feign concentration? And when will I figure out how to use the new laptop and Web cam so I can see my big girls while I'm in China, and they can see their baby sister?

At any given moment, it feels like there's too much time, and not enough.

When I'm not charting out the days between now and blastoff, as my girls call it, I'm thinking how different this trip will be from our first. There are five families in our group, instead of nine the first time. Six babies -- one set of twins -- from three orphanages. Last time, all nine came from the same SWI. Three of us will be traveling without our spouses due to obligations on the home front. Most of us already have children; on our first trip, most of us were rookies.

So, will we bond as a group? Will we be as amazed at our babies' bodily functions? Somehow, I think baby poop just won't have the same mystique it had when I was a first-time mom. Oh, I'll be happy that everything works. But if grandma Mimi wants to change her -- well, she can do the honors!

I've been fortunate to already get to know one of our travelmates via e-mail. She and her husband were trapped in the same limbo we were, coming off hold and unsure whether we'd ever see our daughters' faces. I was so overjoyed when they received their referral too; it wouldn't have been right for us to get the call and them not to.

The bonds you form in China are part of this amazing red thread. Without those bonds, we would never have our second daughter, or some dear friends who I'd trust my girls' lives with. I'm sure we'll come away from this trip with many of the same feelings.

So now, it's off to check my to-do list, hoping it didn't grow while I was typing this.

Comparisons

2007-07-12T23:03:00.001-04:00

My three girls all had different looks in their eyes in their referral pix. The Original Who had a twinkle in her eye, a sign of the mischief that is her very nature. Who II seemed wide-eyed and observant, waiting to see what life had to offer. Who III has a look in her eyes that I've decided is much older than her age warrants. She looks like an old soul, one who already knows too much about life's sorrows and not enough of its joys. The more I study her picture, the stronger the connection I feel. I have a fierce Mama Bear need to get on a plane now, to get her out of those clothes, to put a sparkle in her eyes. To hear her laugh in the way only babies can. To see her in her sisters' arms, the three united, small, sturdy testaments to the power of love and perseverance. Survivors, each of them. Joys beyond belief.

These will be long weeks, waiting, wondering.

She's a peanut!!!

2007-07-10T12:42:00.000-04:00

We have photos and more information! Miss Bo Qi is an absolute peanut -- less than 9 pounds at her 4-month checkup. Likes music, deep sleeper, active and obstinate (oh no, she's like her daddy!). Doesn't she look MAD at all those Michelin man layers?

Mama has to go shopping for teeny tiny clothes now.

Update: Look closely at her clothes. The word "Happy" is embroidered on her chest. Um, maybe someone should have told her to smile!

Beware, FedEx Man!

2007-07-09T21:29:00.000-04:00

To the poor guy who has the honor of bringing me my baby's picture tomorrow:

I apologize in advance for stepping on your feet. For invading your personal space as I jump up and down and hug you. For demanding that you give me your name for her lifebook. For taking your picture if you're having a bad hair day. For all of it.

But you have my baby! Consider yourself the stork in a purple and black shirt.

I had a dream a year ago that one of our office's regular FedEx deliveryman brought me our referral. Won't it be cool if it's the same guy?

T minus 13 hours until we see her face. Delivery is promised by 10:30 a.m. HURRY!

And thanks to all for your wonderful comments on my other posts. I have always believed adoption is the biggest leap of faith I'll ever take. And I believe we've traveled the path we were meant to. I didn't always have directions, but I know the journey is taking us to the place we're supposed to be.

Officially outnumbered!!!

2007-07-06T18:54:00.000-04:00

We got THE CALL!!!!

After a journey of more than two years, here's what we know:

She's Bo Qi. She was born Nov. 15, 2006. And she's waiting for us in the Poyang SWI in Jiangxi Province.

We have to wait until Tuesday for full translation of her name, medicals and a photo. But we're told she has chunky cheeks, full lips and no hair in her photos. I think she's beautiful already!

We can't find anything about her SWI on the Web; I'm wondering if it's one that's newly opened to international adoption?

The Two Whos just became the Three Whos. WOW, WOW, WOW!

Red Threads

2007-07-05T21:20:00.000-04:00

I spent a lot of years certain I never wanted kids. I was a lousy babysitter -- the one kids begged their parents not to have back (something about me actually MAKING them go to bed at their designated time, I think). I spent two summers as a camp counselor for underprivileged children. Came home every day, vowing I was going to have a dog, not a baby. (For the record, I still have the dog, and at 12 she's more work than a baby ever could be!) I watched my friends have their babies in their 20s and marveled at how they did it. Me, I was too busy making man mistakes to even think about babies.

Then I met a guy who wasn't Mr. Right, but who had three kids including a little pixie I'll call Curls. She was 3 when I met her, and for three years she was the light of my life. I'll never forget the first time she threw her arms around me and said, "I love you." I wanted to be a mom from that moment on.

It took almost 10 years to make it happen, then one day in 2004 I suddenly found myself staring at a picture of the daughter I'd felt in my arms, in my heart, long before I ever saw her face. At last, I was a mother. And it is hands-down the toughest, most incredible job I will ever have.

The road to Who I was filled with magic. We mailed the application to our adoption agency on my mother's birthday. We traveled with a high school friend (who'd actually dated the same boy at one point, and whose mom had been a college suitemate of my mom) and her husband and their daughter. One of our other travelmates was the niece of my high school journalism adviser. And most magical of all: We met our daughter on my mother's birthday, giving her the gift of her first grandchild. And The Who became a U.S. citizen on my brother's birthday. It doesn't get much cooler than that.

Fast forward two years. It's May of 2006 and we're finally starting to see the end of our ever-lengthening adoption journey when life throws us a curveball. One of our travelmates from that first adoption, who had become a dear friend, had been fighting cancer since shortly after we returned home in '04. She was losing her fight, and her guardianship plan had fallen through. As a single mother with aging parents, she needed a family for her daughter -- who was just 3 days older than our daughter and who had spent her first nine months of life with The Who. Our friend reached out to our travel group, asking if any of us had an interest in her situation. She never came out and asked, "Will any of you become L's family?" But we all knew that's what she was asking.

And DH and I knew that's what we wanted to do. So I called our friend, starting a series of phone conversations and e-mails.

On June 6, 2006, just one day shy of the two-year anniversary of our referral calls, our friend called me at work. "I want you to be L's parents," she said. I had to leave my desk so I could sob, the joy and the sorrow simply too much to process.

We visited our friend on Father's Day weekend, so the girls could become reacquainted and we could all make sure this was the right move. Our friend was obviously in terrible pain, yet she showed a courage that amazes me to this day. She gutted out that visit, including a 40-minute drive to meet with the social worker to get the ball rolling. As we drove away for the airport, I told DH, "I don't think we'll see her again," and again started to cry.

Two weeks later, I was back in New England -- this time, an instant mother to a little girl not yet 3 who had lost the second mother of her young life and just couldn't understand what had happened. On the second day I was with her, her friends at daycare pointed to me and asked who I was. She'd only been told the night before that her mother had died; no one had told her what my role would be. Yet this wise little girl said, "That's my new mommy." And she bawled the rest of the day.

It's been nearly a year since L & G, who I always believed were sisters of the heart, became true sisters. I wouldn't wish the circumstances on anyone. We've dealt with rages, grief, jealousy. I've locked myself in the bathroom to sob as though my heart is breaking, for my girls and for myself, wondering if I have the strength to help this little one. And I've picked myself up, wiped my eyes and gone back at it.

Someone who heard our story called me a WarriorMama, saying I dove into the battle and just did what had to be done. I think it fits. And a year after starting this journey, I can proudly say I am the mama to TWO beautiful girls. They are mine, heart and soul. They delight me, exasperate me and melt my heart on a daily basis. I have more gray hair and more pounds now than I did before I embarked on this journey. And I wouldn't change a thing.

We've been waiting on our referral for Baby Sister, aka Who III, for what seems an eternity. She's had to wait, as did we, because L needed us first. I will never regret putting this paperwork on hold to bring L into our lives. I believe with all my heart that she and G were meant to be sisters.

Before we left from visiting our friend that last time, I told her I didn't know why any of this -- her illness, her guardianship plan -- had happened, but that I knew one thing: She was meant to bring L home. "I believe that too," she said.

But I was meant to be her forever mama.

Somewhere in China, another little girl needs her mama tonight. Maybe it's me.

Sleep tight, my little ones. Soon there will be three.

Strong women

2007-07-02T20:33:00.000-04:00

Each day, I look at my daughters and am amazed at what survivors they are. They survived their early beginnings in China, where food and love were rationed -- not out of cruelty, but out of necessity. They survived leaving the only world they knew to come to a new land, where the people didn't look like anyone they'd ever seen, where the language was foreign and the sights, sounds and smells were all new. They've survived having us as their doting but often bumbling parents. And they are thriving. Happy and healthy.

They fit right in to our family of strong women.

Recently, we lost one of those women -- my grandmother, who, at 86, finally decided it was time to move off this earth.

Her body had long grown weary, and in recent years, her mind was often more focused in the past than in the present. Yet she, too, was a survivor, a woman who led by example and daily showed the power of love. She survived the Depression, worked at a time many women didn't. She came home tired after a long day, yet still found time for a game of cards with her grandchildren. She made our favorite foods, tailoring birthday treats to each grandchild's preferences. She hopped on a plane for the first time in her life in her 60s to fly to New England to surprise her granddaughter. Her southern Indiana accent and the Rhode Islanders' own special language mixed seemlessly. No one quite understood each other, yet a good time was had by all.

She survived widowhood, a heart attack and a stroke, still somehow becoming the reigning queen of her nursing home. She dished out marital advice, telling me once, "You don't need to roll down any more hills" -- her version of walking down the aisle. And she proudly claimed her family each time one of us came to visit, parading us around to anyone who'd listen and announcing, "This is one of mine!"

I never saw my grandmother lose her patience, though I'm sure she did. She had a knack for resolving sibling disputes that made each of us feel like a winner. I can't count the number of meals she ate at the "kids' table" instead of sitting in the dining room with the adults. I think she enjoyed it. We sure did.

My daughters both got to meet my Nanny. One of my favorite memories is of my first daughter toddling down the hallway with my grandma. Nanny was in her wheelchair, and Who I was holding her hand. It was an amazing moment.

My girls joined me in bidding her farewell last week, as I explained that her body was just a shell and what made her special had already been spirited off to heaven. We just had to help her body catch up. And yes, sometimes when you die, you get a parade. I hope she enjoyed hers.

To Nanny/Annie/Granny, Godspeed. You'll always be one of ours.

I think she'd have liked that.

Life's a Beach

2007-06-28T18:44:00.000-04:00

When I planned a long-overdue vacation, I decided it would be Girls Only. Seemed like a great bonding time -- me and two precious 3.5-year-olds frolicking in my old New England stomping grounds, slurping frozen lemonade, eating delectable scallops and soaking up the sun at one of the nicest beaches in the land.

Guess what? It was all that, and more.

The girls had a great time. They claimed my friends as their own -- a new set of honorary grandparents for sure. They played well together with seldom a spat. They traveled like troupers, despite a three-hour layover in Detroit. Me? I got the worst sunburn of my adult life. While spraying the 50 SPF on the girls liberally, guess who I forgot? Moi.

Ouch, ouch, ouch.

Pain aside, five days away was good for the soul. My work cell phone did not ring. My blood pressure stayed low. And I had the best sleep I've had in years. Now, how to make that happen in the hurly burly world that is daily life?

Something to chew on ...

The Matching Room

2007-06-20T20:04:00.000-04:00

No, it's not the dating game. But it sure has all the anticipation!
We got a call from our agency Monday saying CCAA notified THEM -- instead of THEM pestering CCAA -- that we'd finally escaped the review room and were in the matching room! At last, progress!

Now, no one will say for sure what this means. It could mean we're in line to be matched soon, as in with the July group. Frankly, I'm not holding my breath on that one. I've had my legs knocked out from under me too many times lately to get my hopes up. It also could mean we were just moved with the April '06 folks and are still stuck with another year-plus to wait. My agency says they don't think that's the case, that the CCAA has indicated it wants to match us soon. But again, no one knows for sure. So I can't get excited yet.

What's hysterical is that I finally had my meltdown. I hit rock bottom a few days before our agency called. Cried my eyes out, finally admitted I wasn't sure we'd ever get another referral, that baby sister might just be a pipe dream. Then I went and bought $1400 worth of furniture.

So, it would stand to reason that after I've booked a long-overdue vacation and spent money I needed for the adoption, we'd get a referral. Let's see if that theory holds true!

"I gots a boo-boo"

2007-06-12T22:04:00.000-04:00

I always worried that if I named a child Grace, she'd be destined to be a klutz. The jury's still out on that one, but she's earning her Calamity Jane stripes!

Right now she's sporting the remnants of three stitches, courtesy of her midguided attempt to torment her sister at bedtime. She ran into the room, peered over the bedrail, shrieked at her sister, then whirled to run so she wouldn't get busted.

What got busted was her head, which she conked on the dresser she forgot was there. BONK!

So off to the urgent care clinic we went, mama bear, papa bear, one bleeding baby bear and her nervously chattering sister. Two hours, three stitches and four "I was a model patient" stickers later, we were home.

She seems none the worse for wear and, in fact, is more bothered by the giant mosquito bite than by the hole in her head. Go figure!

Wasting away in the Review Room

2007-05-31T21:56:00.000-04:00

Yes, I'm still searching for my lost shaker of salt. Oh yeah, and my referral.

News from the front is that we've been skipped again. But take heart, dear friends -- this time, it's not just us but our WHOLE AGENCY! Apparently CCAA could only match through 11/7 this time, and our agency doesn't have folks logged in until 11/8. Wouldn'tcha know it?

So it's July at the earliest, and at this point, I have to stop holding my breath.

So we're living large in Whoville. I booked a girls-only beach vacation. In a true testament to my lousy mental state (BUT NO, I do NOT take medication for it, in case the CCAA is watching), I plan to board a plane with the Two Whos (mind you, their collective age is only 7) and travel hours to the sand and surf of New England. Solo.

I'm using carefully hoarded vacation time (score one point for me), even more precious $$$ (ka-ching!) and getting out of Dodge! (You hear that, folks? Send me a referral when I have no paid time off and less money to pay the final adoption expenses. Test me!)

And to sweeten the pot, I get to go out of town for SIX WHOLE DAYS the last week of July for work. That's just a couple of weeks or less before the July referral folks will be traveling to China, most likely. KARMA! At this point, it wouldn't surprise me at all.

But I'm trying to hunker down and prepare for a longer haul. On the bright side, at this rate, the girls will be able to do all the feeding and diapering!

I'm off to margaritaville now, where the sun is hot, the sand is white and the little umbrella in my drink has a pointy edge I just might poke myself with.

T minus two weeks?

2007-05-20T21:28:00.000-04:00

Sometime in the next couple of weeks, our lives will be out of limbo. Either we'll get a referral call or we'll be stuck in the line from hell for another 18 months (or more!!!). Howzat, you ask?

Our agency heard back from CCAA, which said they've changed their policy -- unbeknownst to our agency or, apparently, to a bunch of others. Families going off hold now won't get a referral in the next couple of batches as in the past, they told our agency -- instead, they'll get moved to the matching room with whatever group from that agency is moving next, then sit and gather dust until that group comes due for referrals. For us, that means we'd be lumped in with the April '06 folks.

Now, no offense to the April '06 folks. You're a lovely bunch of people. But we started this journey in September 2005, when the wait was 6 months or less. We DO NOT WANT TO WAIT another 18 months, or more, to see baby sister's face.

We're getting older. Our girls would be nearly in kindergarten before baby sister arrived at that rate.

Our agency says they've appealed to CCAA, and they've been told CCAA will "try" to match us with the next group. But there's no guarantee. And when I asked if we aren't in the next batch, do we appeal again, I got silence -- like it's one or the other.

It's taking every bit of restraint I have not to be mad as hell right now. In my profession, we have a duty to get to the bottom of things -- to the truth. So we ask hard questions. WHEN did this policy take effect? WHY wasn't my agency told -- or others, as it seems. And -- here's the big one -- HOW do you explain the fact that people with other agencies who went off hold AFTER we did HAVE THEIR REFERRALS? Why is the "policy change" affecting us (and another family from our agency) but not those people?

I don't begrudge those folks their babies one iota. Godspeed to them -- get those angels home. But I do want to know why we are being told one thing when it's obvious from the DTC groups and referral postings that this is not being applied consistently.

I've always said adoption is the biggest leap of faith you'll ever take. I believe that with all my heart. And this is testing my faith to the extreme. I pray I have peace over whatever we hear from our agency in the next couple of weeks. And I pray they will not give up the fight if we're skipped again this time, that I put my faith in the right agency when things got tough.

Mostly, I pray for the right words to answer DD#1 when she asks, daily, "Where's baby sister?"

Bumming Out

2007-05-01T19:10:00.000-04:00

The stork passed our house by when he flew in from China today. No one at our agency can tell us when we'll be included, because CCAA won't say. They promised to advocate for us as soon as CCAA gets back to work next week. I'm not holding my breath that it'll do much good.

I'd tried to prepare myself for no news this time around. Thought I'd done an OK job, until I got the official word. Then I blubbered like a 3-year-old all afternoon. Nothing like letting the worker bees see management bawling and snuffling to get the tongues a-waggin'!

I think it wouldn't be so hard to be skipped this time if we had ANY CLUE as to when we WILL be up for a referral. But apparently, that's a secret being guarded like Fort Knox. And I really don't want to ride the rollercoaster with each referral batch (the only rollercoaster I ever rode, besides the mini-tree topper at Opryland in my misguided youth, was Space Mountain at DisneyWorld. I got whiplash. Never again!). So I may just have to go into a 12-step program for Internet junkies, banning all rumor sites and other groups.

Good luck with that, right?

But to all those whose stork laid a baby in their arms instead of a pile of doo, hearty congratulations. I know it's been a long time coming, and seeing those precious faces in time for Mother's Day is something you'll never forget.

Off to my wine-soothing pity party now. Sleep tight!

Picture Perfect (Almost)

2007-04-28T13:07:00.000-04:00

For two years, I've been trying to get my act together to submit a picture for our local FCC calendar. It's a great calendar featuring Chinese adoptees from all over the world, and last year its sales let our FCC board send oodles of money back to China to help the children still there. It's an amazing thing, and certainly a cause near and dear to my heart.

Until this year, we've been relegated to a spot in the group photo on the back cover because I've never been organized enough to get a photo taken in time. This year, I swore it'd be different. So we scheduled the pix last weekend, only to have Whos I & II wake up with snot all over their faces. Ewww. Green boogies aren't really what I want to see in a beautiful calendar. So we canceled and decided to try again today. Folks, I think we have a winner! Only thing missing from the picture is .... Baby Sister. By now, you've probably figured out it was not the Stork flying in that DHL package, but a Do-Do bird. And now we hear there's no guarantee the stork will fly our way with this next batch of referrals.

Why the uncertainty? We have an LID that's irrelevant because we went on hold for several months (more on that later). And now that we're back in the game, all CCAA will tell our agency is that we're in the matching room. But it's a great mystery as to which group we're with. We could get a phone call next week or next year. Only the CCAA knows, and they're not talking.

Note to CCAA: A little suspense goes a lonnnnnng way in our house. How 'bout a hint? Just a teeny one?

Who (or what) is in a Name?

2007-04-24T22:43:00.000-04:00

So who, you ask, are Three Whos? And why is this blog named for them? The answer is elementary, my Dear Watson.

During our wait for darling daughter No. 1, we referred to her as The Who. As in, "Look at the 800th gorgeous dress-she'll-never-wear that I bought for The Who?" Perhaps my inner child was trying to reconnect with Dr. Seuss; maybe I was just caught up in paper pregnancy insanity. But The Who she became, and it stuck.

Eventually, The Who came home and morphed into a name of her own -- and no, it is not Cindy Lou. But then along came a sister, who sat down beside her and annoyed Miss Who all day. Naturally, sister was Who II. Hey, we lack originality.

So it stands to reason -- at least to this addled brain -- that the third, and final, entry in our family Olympics must be (drum roll please ...) WHO III!

I'm sure you were hoping for something scintillating tonight, perhaps a Haiku or even a rhyme worthy of Dr. S himself, but I'm fresh out. Just let the record show there will be NO WHO IV. The sequels are about to end.

We're told there's a DHL package on its way to our agency. But is it the stork, or just a giant Do-Do bird? We hope to know Thursday!

Hitting the Wall

2007-04-22T22:44:00.000-04:00

China is calling us -- figuratively, at least. Now, if only our adoption agency would with news that we have a third daughter! We started this journey in May 2005, little knowing that two years later, at the ripe old ages of 45 and 41, we'd still be sitting in traffic (known hereafter as The @!#$!! Wait), desperately trying to reach our destination before we run out of gas. It's been a trip filled with unexpected detours, but it finally looks like the traffic jam is clearing. Wait, look ahead -- is that a STORK I see? Buckle up, kids -- this could get interesting.