Etc., Etc., Etc.

Awww....deadlines. They are just a killer for blogging. After swearing off writing more than two articles a month, I wrote four in September. It didn't seem like that many when the month began, but a follow up and a request for something I thought was shelved, and I wrote a story a week. When I met my final deadline yesterday morning, I was exhausted. At this point, I have nothing else with a solid date and I am kind of relieved. I love it, I really do, but I get tired sometimes. SO--no writing meant it was all reality shows all the time for me, last night. Here are my thoughts on the happenings.

Survivor: Poor Stephanie. She can't get on a winning team to save her life. And what is up with that Blake guy? Is he just a whiner at camp to get out of work? Is Blake just saving it for the challenges? I miss Tom from last season. This season just doesn't seem to have a character quite like him. And Gary...is his lie going to work?

Apprentice: I am torn on watching this. I saw it last night. And while I agreed with the logic on who they fired, I thought Trump kept that obnoxious guy around just to improve ratings. You know he is never going to get the job.

Amazing Race: Love it! Loved the little boy singing "She'll be Coming Round the Mountain" as his family passed the other team. The family of screamers needs Dr. Phil or something. I am shocked they finished at all. I felt bad for the Black family who lost, but they really seemed to have no sense of urgency. Definitely my favorite show. This is my keeper show if I have to give my reality TV for writing. Survivor is a close second. I am just not feeling it with the Apprentice this season.
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The kids: All is well with them. The Magster has had a few sleepless nights lately (that means I have too) BUT each night of lost sleep has translated into huge language gains. Language is happening very suddenly for her. Where La Nina's process was more slow and steady gains, the Magster's process has been more explosive. At least this time I know the reason behind the sleepless nights when they happen.

La Nina had her preschool class changed last week, when they moved her into the Pre-K building. A whole group of 3.5 year olds made the jump with her--so it wasn't just her, most of her friends went too. Talk about trauma. When I picked her up from her first day in the Otter room, my very reserved daughter told me through her tears, she was never going back to school ever. I asked her a few questions about her day and called the teacher for a few more details, and it sounds like she just had a classic bad first day.

Just a few of the happenings as disclosed by La Nina: She didn't know that when the big boys play chase, you are supposed to run, so she was knocked down. She turned on the water too high in class and much to her dismay, it made a big mess. Most traumatic of all, she didn't know the songs. I pointed out that no one knew the songs, but that didn't help. I am happy to report on her second day, she ran fast from the big boys, kept the water in the sink, knew the songs and was a much happier kid as a result.
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I know a lot of families with kids from China read this, and I have a tip: If you want to inspire adoption talk out of your kids, get together with other families with kids from China. Well, at least it works with La Nina about half the time these days. The FCC Camp Out was by far the best. That 3 days inspired a week of questions, but even small get togethers inspire questions. We had dinner with two families from our first travel group, and La Nina was full of adoption questions on the way home. It is so interesting to hear her processing the details of her own story. It makes me happy that La Nina is comfortable asking us questions about her story. I hope she always feels so free.

Trying to Take Aim

Now that I am done with those rude spammers, back to the gym. As part of the sign up bonus when I joined my gym, I was allowed an hour with a personal trainer. It came free and I could use it anyway I wanted, so I went for it. I was expecting this reed thin, blond 20 year old, and out walked a 50 something woman with a normal body. I was sort of stunned and very impressed, 'cuz that woman could kick my butt any number of ways.

As we started the session, she asked me the question that has haunted me since I quit my job. "So, what are your goals?", she asked. I am lucky I didn't have an emotional breakdown on the spot, because I have never been so aimless in all my life.

Oh sure, there is that "raising happy, healthy children" thing, but it is so intangible, and will I ever know if I have succeeded? Then there is the "Keep a diaper on Maggie for more then 3 hours" goal, but that seems a little narrow and frankly, I fail 60 % of the time. I am not sure it is an attainable goal. So, 'what are my goals?' is this really difficult question for me these days.

I have always been a goal driven person. Goals motivate me. My first goals involved educational milestones, then my goals involved professional milestones. I was always compensated for attaining goals. My goals always built on each other and led to me to better places. There was always a timeline, a vision of the outcome, etc.,etc. Now what?

Let's see, I think I will aspire to have La Nina reading before Kindergarten. Sure, that is specific, time oriented, but controllable? Ha! I can push all I want, but she has to want it, and I am not sure she does. Let me try again, I will potty train Maggie by her second birthday..which is coming up next month. Yeah, right. Like my sweet angel is just going to start cooperating over night. It is really hard to come up with SMART (Specific, measurable, attainable, relevant, time oriented) goals, when you are working with two kids that could give a rats' butt about anything but princesses and cupcakes.

I end up feeling lost, despite my busy-ness. I whine to my friends, my spouse, anyone who will listen, "I feel so aimless", and they look at me like I am nuts. One friend even laughed outloud at my complaint. I told her she wasn't very helpful. She laughed even harder. She said something about me being the most driven person she knows, and then it was my chance to laugh.

I am left in this really odd oblivion of trying to deal with aimlessness for the first time in my life. It is not a comfortable place for me. The good news is I only have time to contemplate it when I am asked by someone at the gym. To that unknowing woman, I stammered out something about losing my pregnancy weight. (Well, I thought it was funny since I don't even have a goal for the gym.) Normally, I am too busy chasing kids and wiping butts to be worried about accomplishing anything more than a little humor during the day.

Changes to Blog

Due to random advertisements being left on my blog, I am closing it. Only members will be able to post comments. I am not sure exactly how advertiser get my URL, but the ads are unwelcome and will cease now.

The Gym

I recently joined a Gym. It is a sign I have given up all hope of ever walking consistently again. But joining was a defeat with a big advantage: The Gym I joined has an excellent child care center. Apparently, I am not very bright, because it never occured to me that an hour of workout time at a gym could mean an hour break from the kids. So, now I am a member of a gym and the girls spend time listening to stories, coloring and running around, while I read a magazine on the bike and lift some weights. We all leave the gym happy, let me tell you.

So, today, I was doing some crunches while a 50-something Mom and her 20-something daughter were lifting weights next to me. The daughter asks the Mom why the gym is so crowded at 9:30 AM.

"These women are all stay at home moms just trying to escape their kids." said the Mom of the 20-something year old. "They aren't really all that serious about working out."

I wanted to say, "Hey, I resemble that," but I am somewhat serious about working out.

Full time 'Momming' (I hate the word 'Mothering'. It gives me a vision of a woman in a floral dress with her hair in a bun, so I call it 'Momming') is the most physical job I have ever had. I need the strength of an NFL Lineman to lift things all day long. I need the speed and agility of a professional basketball player to dash across the room, leap over toys and grab Maggie from the kitchen table before she jumps. And I need the endurance of Lance Armstrong to do this job 24 X 7 for the next 18 years. Why is it so shocking so many Moms are at the gym? Of all the people in the world that need gyms, it is stay at home Moms. We are doing physical labor. And if we get a break from the kids too, isn't that just a win-win?

Mid-Autumn Moon Cookies

The girls and I hosted a Moon Cake making party today for several of La Nina's friends. We had a great time, but the Magster was a little confused. She thought that Moon Cake referred to a body part and spent the second half of the party in the buff. I tried to put something on her, but she willfully refused everything...even the diaper. I will spare you the pictures of that part of the event, but here are some others.

Using wooden molds the Magster, here with her big girl friend G, mold and stuff the cookies. Or may be the Magster is just playing with the flour. Thanks to the Magster, nothing will be sticking to GM's arm!  

La Nina is resting while the Kitchen Aid works its magic. Note: the Magster never rests. 

I am pretty sure only the most authentic Moon Cakes are made with the help of a Kitchen Aid. 

La Nina and the Magster mix up the filling. 

Etc., Etc., Etc.

Thank you for all of the support on my last post. I know I am not alone in my battles. As for things getting better, it is 46 days until Maggie starts pre-school two mornings a week. Not that I am counting or anyting. I figure the next significant improvement comes when she goes to first grade in 5 years. Maybe then I will get that novel written. Seriously, reading your comments made my day. If we ever meet, we can all share bad parent stories.

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My vow not to watch reality TV lasted exactly 5 minutes tonight. I heard the music to Survivor and it called me to the family room. Before I knew it I was on the couch, glued to the tribes hiking through the jungle. In the end, I am so glad Steph is back, the old guy had to go, and does anyone know when the Amazing Race and the Apprentice start? When I am supposed to write with all these shows on? Would it be bad if my kids watched Tivo'd versions of these shows in the afternoon with me? I won't get articles done if I keep watching reality TV in the evening.

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Speaking of my writing life, my 10th article ran on Friday in the Danville Weekly. It felt like a milestone. I wrote the cover story on Hap Magee. Here is the link:

www.danvilleweekly.com

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For China 33 readers: I lied too. SHHHHHHH!

How do they do it?

I really don't know how other Moms do it. My life is chaos and all around me it seems other stay at home moms manage more than I do, better than I do and more happily than I do. Why is that?

How do they get their kids to eat eggs for breakfast and drink 16 ounces of milk every day? How are they able to always keep their kids in matching outfits? How do they convince their kids that keeping clothes on their bodies is preferable to nudity? Or more basic, how do they convince their children to wear diapers? Do they really and truly always answer their children in the calm voices I hear on the playground? Are my kids the only kids in the world that get told to "GET IN THE VAN NOWWWWWW!"?

I wake up every morning determined that 1.) My children will eat healthy meals and snacks 2.) My children will be dressed in weather appropriate attire and 3.) I will not get frustrated by my two angelic darlings. But it never fails by 10AM, La Nina has eaten Peanut Butter and Jelly for breakfast is wearing flipflops in the fog and I am threatening she will never watch Mulan again if she doesn't brush her teeth NOW. Meanwhile, Maggie refused breakfast and is eating 3 day old cracker she found on the floor. She is wearing a sundress that doesn't cover her chest appropriately and removing her diapers hourly, but I only know it is missing when I see a puddle form under her. Where have I gone wrong?

I keep reading these parenting articles (I don't have time for books on the subject) and it says allow your child only healthy food options, only clothing choices that are only appropriate and if you raise your voice you are reinforcing negative behaviors! HA! I don't think the writers of these articles have ever spent more than one morning with two young children.

Here is my bite of reality sandwich- if I don't feed La Nina peanut butter and jelly for breakfast she doesn't eat. Maggie won't eat period unless it is a cracker or cupcake. Ever. La Nina will wear anything as long as she can wear her flipflops. The Magster will cry in her room for hours if I dress her in something she doesn't like. That means she has 4 dresses, 1 skirt and 2 shirts she will wear. Notice: diapers are not on that list. And there is only so much a woman can take before she starts yelling.

If you ask me, the writers of parenting articles are sick individuals, hell bent on heaping guilt on the already overwhelmed. To them I say, please shut down your computer, come to my house and make sure the Magster doesn't pee on the floor while I brush La Nina's teeth!

Question Day

Every day the girls and I run errands, shop, swim and play in parks and rarely am I asked a question about my kids. Today, for some reason, was "Ask the Mom questions day". Not once, not twice, but three times today I found myself dealing with questions about my kids. These days, I have a policy of only answering the questions that are asked unless the person provides me with an unsolicited explanation of why they want to know. (I will chat with waiting parents, grandparents, friends of adoptees all day long and I find their approach is usually a little different.) This strategy provides me with hours of entertainment as I watch the clueless try to figure out why this nice lady isn't helping them out at all.

It started at Starbuck's this morning. I am waiting for a much needed Chai Latte and trying to keep the Magster from tossing coffee mugs on the tile floor. This woman looked at me and said, "Are those your daughters?"

Sticking to my strategy, I answered, "Yes."

She continued, "Oh, they look Asian. Is your husband Chinese?"

"No," I answered as I pulled the Magster off of a display shelf she was climbing.

Again, she persisted, "But, you said they were yours?"

"Yes," I answered. The coffee was done, the kids were going wild, and I left without further explanation, but kind of laughing to myself as I could tell she wanted to continue the inquisition. Poor thing was probably left wondering, "How does that white lady have Asian kids if her husband isn't Chinese?"

Later, we were at La Nina's gymnastics class, when one of the Mom's started, "Are they real sisters?"

"Of course," I answered. This is a pretty common question, so I was in very familiar territory.

"No, I mean, 'really real' sisters," she continued. This is a little more unusual as I am not sure what she means. What is really real? Only full-blooded siblings? Do half siblings count? What about step siblings? And how do you count those children with similar DNA but who grew in different wombs? I am just so confused by "Real".

Rather than get into a theoretical discussion of the definition, I sweetly answered, "Really real."

So, then she sneered, "Oh. I would have guessed they were adopted or something. They don't look anything like you. "

Weren't we talking about the kids, not me? I decided there was no reason to tell her she was correct as her tone of voice ticked me off. Normally, I am quite enthusiastic if someone guesses the girls are adopted. It is a chance for me to tell someone in front my kids about the magic of adoption, but the sneer in her voice was so grating and I am well aware the kids don't look like me.

The final episode happened when I showed someone my camera and demonstrated the playback features.

"Are these your kids?" She asked as she peered at the little screen on the back of the camera.

"Yes," I answered. I actually didn't realize she was asking an adoption question, I thought she was just asking about the picture.

"They don't look like you at all. Are they half Asian?"

"No," I answered. (They aren't.)

Crushed she said, "I just turned 40 and I am really starting to need glasses to see these little screens. Because I could swear these kids look Asian on this screen."

Feeling the pain of 40 myself, I explained my children to this poor woman and she laughed. "Oh, well, I should have figured that. My best friend adopted from China and would probably kill me if she knew I just asked you that. That was a rude question, wasn't it?" I laughed and told her I was used to questions and now used the answers for cheap entertainment. She laughed and told me that she would tell her friend my strategy.

It is so hard to know how to handle all these questions now that La Nina is old enough to understand the questions and answers. I don't want her to think she has an obligation to tell anyone anything, yet she has nothing to be ashamed of either. I don't want her to feel defensive, yet I want to teach her how to defend herself. For me, this strategy finally seems like the one that allows me to answer questions, maintain our privacy and make it all a game. Also, I hope it gives her permission to have a little fun with the whole race thing, because our world is just so serious these days.

Something about September 11

Like most Americans, I can tell you exactly where I was when I heard about the tragedies at the World Trade Center 4 years ago today. I was in my bedroom and had just returned from an early morning run.

When I left to go running, the news was just breaking that a plane had hit the World Trade Center Tower. I remember thinking, "This will still be news when I get home." So, I left and ran a few miles. After I finished my run, I walked into the bedroom and noticed my husband had not moved. Literally, he was sitting in the same exact position on the end of the bed and he had the strangest look on his face. I think I said, "Are you still watching that plane crash?" And he said, "We're under attack." And with that, I joined his vigil. I stood in the same spot for about 4 hours and watched in horror as the terrorist's plan unfolded on Live TV. I couldn't move. I couldn't sit down. I just stood and watched in horror as the graceful towers collasped. It was the beginning of a very long and sorrowful day, a day that is part of our collective national psyche.

But the date of September 11, also always reminds me of something else. On September 10, 2001, we sent our completed Dossier to my agency and began the real wait for La Nina. The events are totally tied in my mind: great joy and great sorrow all mixed into one. I remember wondering what impact a war would have on our now impending (by one day) international adoption. In my mind, I knew intuitively we were going to war with someone over the happenings in New York City, I just hoped it wasn't China..irrational yes, but trust me, when you are adopting, you get a little paranoid about world events. Of course, the answer was none...but I remember worrying about it that Tuesday morning those glittering buildings fell. We waited 14.5 months after September 10 to receive word of our little girl waiting in China, but for me, every September 11th marks the beginning of that wait.

Last year, yet another adoption milestone happened at about this time: We received our referral for the Magster, ending a 6 month wait. For the record, we got "the call" on September 13, pictures of our angel came the next day. For some reason, we received our referral about a week after every other agency in the world (truly, the world) and that was a LONG week. I remember so clearly not wanting to leave the phone during those expectant days. The Dad and I spoke to each other at least once an hour all day, every day during that week, "Have you heard anything?...Have you heard? Has anyone heard anyting?". The answer were always the same: No word. Considering that our wait for Maggie was 8.5 months shorter than our wait for La Nina, I probably shouldn't have been so stressed out by an extra week, but to put it bluntly, that week sucked. Talk about some false labor!

At about 11AM on September 13, 2004, my office phone displayed the phone number of our agency and I let out a whoop of joy. I was the lucky person who took the referral call for Maggie, only fair since Dad took the call for La Nina. My hands shook as I took down the information: her name, age, height, weight, birth date and personality traits. I remember our agency faxed us an information sheet and a photo of her in shadow form taunted us all night long. The next day, I missed a morning of work and kept La Nina home from school so we could be together as a family when we first saw the face of our second daughter. I remember the joy of finally having a tangible image to cling to as I waited, and the pain of knowing I would miss her first birthday. Oh what a rollercoaster adoption can be.

So, while my heart goes out to the thousands of families who lost loved ones on this day 4 years ago, life does continue despite the great loss. And in the face of great tragedy, joy is possible and miracles still happen every day.

The 'Issues' of Parenthood

Of late, Maggie doesn't like her diapers. And she really hates them if they are the slightest bit wet. Throughout the day, it is common for her to hand me diapers and say, "wet". It is also not uncommon for me to chase her through the house to get a diaper back on her while she squeals, "No". Before you say, 'oh, that child is ready to potty train,' keep reading.

So, this morning Maggie handed me a diaper, but also said "poo-poo". I had a potty in the kitchen...I know it is gross, but I am in the habit of moving it from room to room. I never know when I am going to get handed a diaper and it is handy to make her sit on it while I get her a fresh one. As I left to deal with the wet diaper in my hand, I suggested that Maggie sit on the potty while I get her a diaper to which she said, "No." I commanded her to sit down in an authoritative voice, a command she ignored. I walked to her room, grabbed a diaper and returned to the kitchen.

Maggie wasn't sitting on the potty when I returned to the kitchen. In fact, she was squatting on the floor, taking care of her 'issue', next to her potty. The amazing thing about this story is that her Dad was sitting not more than 3 feet from her reading the Sports section and sipping his coffee, completely oblivious to the problem piling (literally) up next to him.

La Nina advised me of the situation with a .. "and it stinks, Mommy." Before you judge this situation, realize I was not gone from the room for more than 1 minute and a completely capable adult was in the room the entire time. I now believe I have seen it all as a parent.

Conspiracy Theory

With gas over $3.00 a gallon, I regularly hear people complain that automobile manufacturers and oil companies are in cahoots and that is why SUVs and Mini-vans have become so popular. The theory goes oil companies encourage car manufacturers to build bigger cars driving demand for their product.

However, I have a different theory. I will share my theory, risking personal assaults for taking on something sacred: Car Seats. If you ask me the true conspiracy is between car seat manufacturers and car makers. Car seats are why we need bigger cars, not the traditional American love of all things big.

Think about it: If you have more than one child under 6 (and it is common to space your children closer than 6 years apart), then you need a car seat for every child. So, let's say you have 3 kids, aged 5, 3 and 1, and you need 2 car seats and a booster in your sedan to back your car out of the driveway. In this scenario, your packing capability is limited to the trunk and floor board. Now this is fine if you never go anywhere but the mall and you don't buy much, but assuming your entire family wants to go to the park for a picnic, then you need a bigger car. If you have stollers, toys, a change of clothes, diapers, maybe a cooler for drinks and a picnic basket for a family of 5, trust me, Mom is riding on top of the sedan, because there is no room for her in the car. It is simple space allocation issue. Smaller cars are impractical for families when you factor in car seats.

My solution: Smaller car seats. Come on'! Car seats are huge. Isn't there some rocket scientist out there that can create something smaller and give us back our smaller cars and their better gas mileage? Of course, this still means you can't ever ride with another adult in your car, but at least, you can get the kids stuff in the car without a trailer.

Where did the Summer go?

It is September. La Nina started back to pre-school today. And there is no denying summer is slowly fading into fall. In case there is any doubt, let me be clear about something: I am a summer person.

When I left my job, I really wanted a summer with the girls. So, I took La Nina out of school for two months and just enjoyed the season this year. I haven't had a summer so good since I was a kid. The weather was hot, the days were long and the bounty of vegetables and fruits were endless. Lazy afternoons at the pool were the perfect way to beat the heat. Mornings hanging around the house, running to errands or swim lessons were so relaxed. And there is nothing like heirloom tomatos, white corn from the valley, berries and melons. I love it when an entire meal can be fruit, vegetables and a nicely grilled steak.

I am never excited for Winter and while I used to appreciate the changing seasons (well, as much of that as you get in Northern California), now I only appreciate the changes that mean Summer is coming, not the changes that mean Winter is almost here. Sure the holidays are great, but January and February are endless in my world. I spend the entire winter consoling myself that Summer is just around the corner, and now I have turned that corner and I am staring down the barrel of a cold, rainy winter. brrrr.

Alas, given the events in New Orleans, if the end of summer is my biggest care in the world, then things are very good in my world. My heart goes out to all of those who can not locate their families, lost their homes and are suffering. And to our friends who are worried for family in the Deep South, we are thinking of you.