Sisters will be Sisters

I overheard the follow conversation between my daughters this afternoon.

La Nina: "Maggie lets play Dora."

Magster: "OK"

La Nina: "I'll be Dora. You be Boots."

Magster: "Ok, Car-Car."

For those of you who don't know, Boots is a monkey who has a yellow belly and wears nothing but rain boots. I was a little worried the rest of the afternoon that La Nina would strip her sister and paint her belly yellow! I am happy to report my vigilance paid off and the Magster remained dressed, her belly paint-free. The poor younger sister type cast as a side-kick monkey at the age of 2.

Woof! We had a Dog-Gone Good Time!

As we rang in another Chinese New Year, the holiday had me thinking. Five years ago, did I even take note of this holiday? Did I realize that more people celebrate this New Year than my New Year? Did I know what went in a red envelop? What colors to avoid wearing? Why New Years' Eve is spent cleaning? I doubt it.

Two Chinese daughters later, our family has joined the masses celebrating this New Year. After a Chinese feast at our favorite "American" style Chinese place last night, we spent the afternoon ringing in the first day of 4704 with the Chinese community in our home town. Since I recently wrote an article about the growing importance of the Chinese in our city, my family was treated to front row seats at the New Year's cultural festival. We saw little girls dancing with long braids, kids singing their hearts out in bright red choral vests, we heard the Chinese opera sang by one of the top performers in China, and we witnessed a show stopping dance performance. The show kept my girls spell bound for two hours. Frankly, La Nina and the Magster making it two hours was the most amazing act of all.

About half way through the whole performance, something dawned on me. I realized part of the gift of this adoption journey has been the gift of the Chinese culture. The only culture I grew up with was American. My family immigrated in a time when assimilation was the priority in this country, not diversity, and the ties of culture were gradually worn away through time. Yet, now through my daughters, I have been introduced to a beautiful, vibrant, colorful culture. Now, we seek out opportunities to participate in this new culture, and it never fails to leave us awe-struck.

It has been such a win-win for us. We try to ensure our girls are exposed to the culture of their birth land and we end up thoroughly enjoying the experience with them. I am also grateful to the wonderful welcome we receive everytime we reach out to the Chinese community. Never have I experienced more kindness and genuine hospitality as I do when I show up at a Chinese community event with my girls in tow. No matter how clueless I feel at first, I am immediately put at ease and placed in the protective care of an unofficial guide who graciously puts up with my numerous cultural gaffes. Of course, they may feel sorry for my girls being raised by "waigoran", but at least they patiently explain every cultural nuiance to me as a journalist or as a Mom.

And as we ring in the Year of the Dog, I now know what goes in a red envelop, I avoid wearing anything white this time of year and La Nina and I make sure all the bad luck is swept out of our house.

Happy New Year to all of you who are celebrating, we hope you had as much fun as we did woofing in the year of the Dog!

A Day in the Life

I'm exhausted tonight from a variety of rather inane circumstances, but thought I would post a little slice of my life.

This week is finals week at the local high school. Normally, this would have no impact on my life, but this week it does. You see, the kids in the neighborhood have a band, a very loud band that plays a type of music that I can't identify. I think it is punk, but actually, I never hear songs, just noise. Loud noise. Today they started at 1:30pm--this is how I know it is finals week. Yesterday, they also started at 1:30pm. And guess what happened on the other days of this week, being that it is finals "week". Of course, on Tuesday I asked about school, praying they hadn't dropped out and decided to give this music thing a go, and they told me about the whole finals week thing. I also asked about studying and they told me they would...after practice! Now, the good news is they only play for about 2 hours (trust me, this is an improvement), because the drummer has a job, and the neighbors get ugly at the 2 hour mark. The bad news is they have amplifiers, drums and lead screamer, I mean singer, too. I am hopeful this all ends tomorrow. If you are going to have teen-age boys on the court, these kids aren't bad. In fact, they're really good kids, just loud. One of them even helps me with groceries when his friends aren't around. He is a nice guy, but why can't they fire up some James Taylor and forget about the Sex Pistols? And why do they have to use electric guitars? Do I sound old?

Also, tonight, I had one of those memorable parenting moments that simply must be recorded. I was getting the girls ready for a bath and the Magster had a little surprise in her diaper. The funny thing is that while these surprises are typically smelly, this one wasn't. So, as she started to whip off her diaper, I thought nothing of it, until I was felt something hit my leg and roll across the floor. Then, I shrieked. It was so loud, I think the boys in the band heard me, the Magster started crying and La Nina running to see if her sister was in trouble. After I calmed down the Magster and assessed the situation, we had "surprises" all over the bathroom. La Nina was acting like she was on and Easter Egg hunt, shouting, "I found one over here, Mom, get it". I was running around with tissues picking up, and the Magster was standing in the middle of the mayhem, swinging her arms, shouting, "Poo-poo there, Momma." Again, they just don't warn you about this in those parenting manuals.

One last little tidbit from my day: We had La Nina's Parent Teacher Conference yesterday. It is so odd to hear another adult talk about your child with intimate knowledge of her likes, dislikes and even a few little quirks. The teacher told us while La Nina is doing well, she doesn't know when her birthday is. Both her Dad and I were floored, we tried to be cool, but we weren't. La Nina regularly tells us her birthday is March 8, she is going to be 4, she wants this and that for a party, etc, etc. Yet, when her teacher asked, she responded only her birthday was in March...therefore, not passing the little test. So, today, I asked her under differenct conditions about her birthday. Finally, on time number 3, she looked at me and said, "Mom. I told you already it is March 8. Do you need to write it down?" I tell you, she is 3 going on 13. What a sassy little thing. But it was pretty funny to hear the line her Dad and I use on each other coming from her. Now, why won't she tell her teacher her birthday? The mysteries of childhood,!

So, I guess between the drum playing neighbor, the poo flinging two year old and the sassy almost 4 year old, I have good reason to be tired tonight. I'm going to read.

Oh my, I've been tagged!

So for those who don't know about cyber-tagging, it means someone else mentioned me on their blog and now I have to answer a series of questions and tag 5 more bloggers. Thanks to Lisa of Smithpartyof6 for tagging me. Here are my answers:

What was I doing 10 years ago?

I was working in downtown San Francisco for a Fortune 500 company. I was shopping on my lunch breaks and hitting happy hours with friends after work. I was going on business trips, drinking fine wine, eating at really nice restaurants whenever I wanted. Oh...those were the days!

What was I doing 1 year ago?

Well, my own blog describes some rather hellish days adjusting to two kids. It is all sort of lost in a sleep-deprived, caffeine buzzed-haze. When I think of last winter, the one thing that stands out is the amount of time I spent going to Kaiser. I have never been to the doctor so much in my life. I was there 12 times in 14 weeks if I remember right. Ugh!

Five snacks I like:

1. Homemade Chocolate Chip Cookies
2. M&Ms
3. Lollipops (cures writer's block everytime)
4. Apples slice in caramel
5. Chips and Salsa

Five things I would do if I were a millionaire:

1. Hire a personal chef to cook low-fat meals and clean up the kitchen.
2. Hire a nanny so I could write that darn novel immediately instead of waiting until the girls go to school.
3. Hire a professional organizer to fix my closets
4. Hire a personal trainer to get me out of bed every morning and working out.
   
5. Rent an office overlooking Main Street in Downtown so I had a place to write other than my kitchen
   

Hmmmm...apparently, I would outsource the role of Mom and run away from home if I was wealthy. Is that a bad sign?

Five bad habits:

1. Talking to myself. People really think I'm crazy when they catch me doing it.
2. Checking email compulsively. I think it is a left over work habit.
3. Sneaking the kids' candy when they aren't looking. (Especially M&Ms and Lollipops!)
4. Shouting at the kids. But in my own defense, they push me to it and I don't spank, so it has to come out somewhere!
5. People tell me I am bit of a control freak eventhough I think they are wrong. It is funny they usually back up their claims with a list of examples. Hmmmm....Denial is a beautiful river.
   

Five things I like doing:

I can't settle on just 5, so I have 6.

1. Hiking with my friends
2. Writing- when I finally figure out the story that needs to be told, there is no bigger thrill.
3. Wasting an afternoon lost in a really good book is pure heaven.
4. Taking the kids to Disneyland
5. Spending an afternoon with the girls, going to the Library, then walking downtown to get a hot cocoa or ice cream (depending on the weather)
   
6. Taking the kids to the pool, getting a popsicle during adult swim time, and then coming home with really tired kids.

Five things I would never buy, wear or get new again:

1. Tube top with Dolphin shorts. At 40, no one wants to see that much of me.
2. Stilletto heals. I value my feet too much.
3. Gouchos. They were bad in the 80's. I can't believe they are back.
4. Leather...but this isn't by choice. The kids would just thrash a nice leather jacket.
5. Dry Clean Only. Again, I hope this is temporary.

I guess I got stuck on the "wear" line. I can't think of anything "buy" or "get new".

5 Favorite Toys:

This will probably put me in the world class "nerds" category, but I don't own any really cool toys.

1. My digital camera
2. My new garage refrigerator (how lame is this?)
3. I think I should put my sticker maker down here, but I don't know how to use it.
4. Jumpolene...it just exhausts the kids, a beautiful thing.
5. My new collection of every Live from the Archive CD.

Remove the top name from the list and add yours to the bottom:

www.smithpartyof6.blogspot.com
www.maggiemakesfour.blogspot.com

I hereby tag the following blogs..all of which I very much enjoy reading:

Elizabeth
Kelly and Chris
ExCinderella
BabyShanahan
SeanandGen

Saying Goodbye

Our agency combines dossiers into travel groups that are typically 10-15 familes. Often those groups are combined meaning your family travels in a group of 25-35 families. It is crazy, but you have the honor of watching many families born on your trip and often end up forming close bonds with many of those families.

Today, we spent the day remembering a member of our extended China Family. One of the Dads who traveled with us on La Nina's trip died of a brain tumor last month, 10 days shy of the 3rd anniversary of receiving his daughter. Today was his memorial service and it was a sad day for us.

We remember T. as a happy, chatty, witty man; proud of his family, his new daughter, his homegrown son at home and his lovely wife. They were some of the people who spent the entire 3 weeks with us in China and one of the few Northern California families from our first travel group. We have seen them many times since coming home from China and have always really enjoyed their company. La Nina and his daughter seemed to hit it off and often spend dinners playing under the tables together. I bet 3 years ago they would have never imagined this would be the next chapter in the books of their lives.

The funny thing about adoption trips is you spend very little time talking about your "real" lives. In fact, you don't really get to know each other until you get home and start going to reunions. I felt like I got to know T. for the first time today. We heard his childhood friends, a work colleage and a family member speak of him, his life and many misadventures. It offered us a glimpse of his life that we never knew.

We knew him as E.'s Dad. One of the Dads who was vying for computers in the China Hotel's Sports Bar at the same time we were. I can still picture his friendly wave letting us know he was done and it was our turn. He always had a smile on his face and an anecdote close at hand during Happy Hour in Max's room. But my clearest memory is of the smile on his face the night he and his wife left China with their daughter and headed home to see their son. They so missed J.

And now he is gone. He leaves a broken hearted, but very capable wife to raise two kids as a single Mom. He leaves 2 kids, aged 9 and almost 4, to learn about him through family and friends. We hope that when E. starts to ask questions about her Dad, we can be there and tell her the story of her Daddy's joy when she was first in his arms, because that is the part of the story that we know best. We will miss you T. and wish you peace on your journey.

Leaving the House

Last Summer, a friend of mine with 3 kids was having some health problems. For no reason at all, she would get dizzy and faint. After a great deal of investigation, doctors determined it had to be stress related. The first question I asked, sort of kidding, sort of not, "Does this happen whenever you are trying to get the kids out of the house?" She laughed, but all the Moms agreed: The most stressful part of our day is leaving the house.

It seems so simple. Get the kids dressed, fed and cleaned up. Then gather all their stuff (depending on the day and location this differs). Then convince them to get in the car, strap themselves down, start the car and go. This, of course, assumes there is nothing to do for yourself. A trip to the gym or store might require additional organization, but for this post, we will disregard this wrinkle.

Now, add to this very short finite list of things to do: a missing security blanket, a sudden need to use the potty, an unexpected dirty diaper, a missing shoe, and I swear it is a miracle a mother ever gets her kids anywhere.

Which brings me to the other night. We were going to dinner with friends and we were actually on time. The kids were completely cooperative, I packed the salad, wine and beer earlier, the diaper bag was even organized. It was like a miracle or something.

We were getting into the car...all four of us...meaning there were two adults present to load 2 children into the car. Both kids were running around and I was scooping out the normal amounts of kid crap from the floor board. I am still not sure where the Dad was.

Suddenly, the Magster appeared at my feet. She was a little weepy and uttering something I couldn't understand. La Nina, ever helpful, provided translation. "She's wet. She fell in the gutter."

Ok, my initial reaction was to burst out laughing...she fell in the gutter? How did that happen? Why does this always happen? And the ever-popular, where is your father? But the Magster looked so pathetic and I felt sorry for her, I refrained from laughing and sized up the situation.

First, I noticed the knees of the Magster's tights were muddy and torn. I could see a small blood stain forming by her newly skinned knee. Upon closer inspection, I noticed the front of her dress was soaked as were the sleeves of her coat. So much for leaving on time. I scooped her up and took her into the house to get her changed.

Dad and La Nina were already in car and it was running as we headed back into the house. So much for our first-ever perfect, two children, ontime departure. I had to strip Maggie naked to get her dry and redress her. Ten minutes later we were in the car and underway. Officially late.

We didn't call our friends to tell them we were running late. They also have two kids and we figured they would understand. They did.

Conversations with an Almost 4 year old

I am not intimidated by tough conversations with my kids. I have already answered more hard questions from La Nina regarding her adoption than I ever expected to before her 4th birthday. However, La Nina's curiosity and my friend's creativity threw me a huge curve ball.

My friend is expecting a baby any day. Since this is her first baby, she is just hanging out and decided to meet me and the girls at the park on Friday. La Nina has watched the size of her tummy with great interest this entire pregnancy. And La Nina and my friend constantly compare if the tummy is bigger or smaller since we saw her last. None of these conversations phased La Nina. She knows Baby Eric is in my friend's tummy, will soon be born and will sleep in her old crib. It has been a non-event.

As we left the park on Friday, my friend leaned into the car and said, "Next time you see me, Baby Eric will be in my arms and my tummy will be smaller."

That comment set La Nina's wheels turning. Naked curiosity played across her face as she strapped herself into her car seat. In the front seat, my wheels were turning too. I was thinking, "Holy, crap-a-mole, what is La Nina going to throw at me after that comment?" Now I am not nervous about a 'birds and the bees' discussion in the least. It seems to me after adoption topics, sex is an easy one. BUT, I was terrified of my friend being the center of this discussion. My friend's creativity involved how she got pregnant: She is single and went the sperm bank route.

I am completely supportive of my friends decision. She is financially and emotionally capable of rearing a child alone and she will make a great Mom. She thought about her options for a long time before she made the decision. Heck, all of us friend even gave her input on donors. So, needless to say, this pregnancy has been a bit of a group project. Unfortunately, I am not equally as prepared to discuss the 'birds and the bees' when it only involved a portion of the equation.

So, there we were in the parking lot of the park, my wheels turning, La Nina's wheels turning and a sludge-like silence descending on the van. I was waiting La Nina out, the Magster was unusually silent, and La Nina was gathering her thoughts. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, La Nina began the inquisition:

"Is baby Eric in her belly?"

"Yes," I answered. My mind raced, 'oh man, just don't ask me about the daddy. Please don't ask about the daddy. Well, I guess I can just say, sometimes people don't have daddy's as I have done with other single women parents...but if we are in the middle of birds and bees, that isn't going to work. If there is a God in Heaven, please save me on the daddy question for now.'

"Is that why her belly is so big?"

"Yes," I answered again. My silent prayers continued, ' and please just don't ask how he got in there. It was slightly unorthodox and could lead to the daddy question. please oh please...just ask me something easy.'

"Is he coming out soon?"

"Yes," I answered again. "Very soon. In fact by next Wednesday he will be here and sleeping in your old crib." (The crib mention was a feeble attempt at a diversion tactic. I was trying to throw her at this point. I was woefully unsuccessful. I cannot distract this child.)

"Is she his birf mommy?" (I love the way she says that so I left it for you to enjoy too.)

"Yes, she is," I answered. Now I was wondering if we were going to be chatting about her adoption. Frankly, I was relieved. Familiar territory and far safer ground as far as I am concerned.

Finally, she wound up. I could tell she was about to ask the question that was bothering her the most. I held my breath. And she asked, "Can I hold him?"

"Of course you can sweetie. I think Baby Eric would like that alot." With that, my almost 4 year old smiled and looked out the window contentedly. I let out a huge sigh of relief and we headed off to the grocery story. The 'birds and the bees' still have not fluttered into her mind, but I know that isn't for long.

There's A New Kid in Town...

...and he has taken over my house. He is an animal rescuer, he has a very famous cousin...Dora the Explorer...and at this moment, he is actually more popular than Princesses with my daughters. In case you don't have a child under 5 in your house, Dora's cousin Diego, the animal rescuer, just got his own show and my girls LOVE it.

Yes, the impossible has happened: instead of asking for princess flicks, the girls are begging for Diego, or as Maggie puts it: "Go, Weygo, Go..Mama...Go, Weygo, Go." Night and day, I hear, "Weygo, Mama, Weygo".

Diego mania has besieged us. Monkeys are no longer simply monkeys, they are "haller monkeys, Mom"; a parrot of the past is a "scarlett macaw, Mom"; and please do not confuse a "rat" with a "three toed sloth". La Nina just might have to launch into a long, convulted discussion of the difference between a "rat" and a "three-toed sloth." As her mother, I find her lectures rather endearing, but I am just not sure what others will make of her authoritative tone. Gotta love nearly 4 year olds!

At the end of each show, there is a quiz about the featured animal and the Magster shocked me yesterday by shouting out every answer correctly about a humpback whale. She knows they live in an Ocean, breath air, dive by arching their backs and something else I can't remember. The good news is the mass merchandising of Diego has not quite caught up with the new kid in town. But given the reaction of my kids to him, it won't be long before a "Rescue Pack", a "Video Watch" and a stuffed "Baby Jaguar" are on someone's birthday wish list.

More good news, I actually hung out with the girls yesterday to check out the show and it isn't bad. I am not a huge fan of kids TV, but this show had some redeeming qualities. It had catchy tunes, (yes, you will be singing...'Rescue pack, comin' to the rescue. Rescue pack, comin' to the rescue'...after one short viewing), educational value, (does it hurt kids to know about animals?) and a can-do attitude that gets the kids involved in helping with the rescues (at one point, both girls were jumping like "red-eyed tree frogs" yesterday).

Perhaps best of all: when I told Maggie I would put on an extra Diego if she went pee-pee in the potty, she did. And joyfully ran from the room squealing "WEEEYYGOOOO". I may be seeing a lot of this new kid in the next couple of weeks.

Attachment Disorder????

I am a member an adoption playgroup and lately, I have noticed a trend. It seems to me that everyone is willing to label every challenge their child faces as related to an "attachment" issues. Even more interesting is that when I hang out with my non-adoptive friends, I see home-grown kids exhibiting the same behaviors that are sending adoptive parents into a panic.

Example: At the park, the kid won't leave Mom's side and constantly demands Mom's attention. I have seen both adoptive and homegrown kids do this, yet for some reason, the adoptive Moms call it an "attachment" issue, while the homegrown Moms call it annoying. Without guilt, the homegrown Moms tell their kids to go play or they will go home. And almost always, the kids go and play. In the adoption play group, the adoptive Moms 'honor' the child's feelings, because surely this clinginess is an adoption-related "need", not some normal kid issue, because you know...adopted kids are "special".

The result: Homegrown Moms are more fun to hang out with at the park! This is not to say that the kids never hang out with the Moms. Of course they do. But when I am with my homegrown Mom friends, the kids spend the bulk of their time playing. And when I am with my playgroup friends, the kids spend the bulk of their time in their Moms' laps.

It has gotten to the point, that if I have a choice of where I spend my Fridays at the park, I am avoiding my playgroup in favor of friends with home grown kids the same age as mine. Time is too precious to waste making sure "Suzie" is comfortable with her Mommy talking to me. It seems that the adoptive Moms are so obsessed with "honoring their child's feeling" because of "attachment issues" that my kids have no one to play with and I have no one to visit with because the children never leave!

Yes, some adopted kids do have attachment issues, and the vast majority don't. I am not saying "attachment issues" don't exist. All I am saying is that kids will be kids common sense must prevail. And every misbehavior isn't a "sign" of some bigger issue. Kids will test the limits every chance they get, and it is all a matter of how much the Mom is willing to take.

Ok, so now I am done venting. I have a story to write. I am skipping FCC playgroup again this week and calling a friend to set up a play date!

I Should Have Known Better

Many of you know that I am a free-lance writer for a couple of local weekly papers. It is a fun way to make a little money, learn something new everyday and get adult contact. However, today, my freelance gig was a review in parenting basics...and basically, I am still clueless.

About 10AM, I got a call from one of the editors asking if I wrote captions (aka cut lines) for some pictures I had sent him. I had, but he lost them and I forgot to send myself the email, so my work was unsaved. No big deal, he assured me, they would figure something out. I had an inkling this was a bad sign, but I had plans for a park date, the weather was glorious and out the door I went without my purse, wallet or cell phone. I should have known better, but I was sure my friend would have a cell phone in case of an emergency, so why worry?

I got home about 1:30PM and had a message on the home machine. Turns out the paper was trying to reach me. The art work was complete and I needed to rewrite the cut lines for the selected pictures. By the way, it had to be done by 5pm. Had I got the message, I could have stopped by the office (both kids were out cold), seen the page, come home and had 2 hours to write the cut lines....but alas, I wasn't worried about the phone. I called the editor and said I could come in, but I had the kids. She assured me this was no problem. I should have known better.

So, of course, today my children chose to take monster naps. All the fresh air at the park, I suppose. This forced me to break the first rule of parenting: Never wake a sleeping baby. It didn't go well for me. Finally, in desperation, I promised sparkle cookies at the grocery store after I finished my story, if they would put on their shoes. Miraculously, the bribe worked. We made it out the door and I had a coloring book, a pad of paper, crayons, my notes from the article that is in production, my purse, wallet and phone. La Nina even went to the bathroom before we left and the Magster had a fresh diaper on...I was optimistic. I should have known better.

I got to the office and headed to the editorial room to write up my 4 cutlines. A reporter and another editor were working, I said Hi, they greeted the girls. I spread out the girls' activities on the floor, settled into write and La Nina asked, "But where is my cookie?" I explained after I finished writing, we would go get a cookie. (Twenty-something reporter snorts in digust that I am using food as a bribe, but I am sympathetic. Before I had kids, frankly, even when I had just La Nina, I would have regarded my own bribes as pathetic...now it is survival.)

While I am explaining to La Nina the cookie is after the writing and drying her tears, the Magster has found a new pad of paper. Unfortunately, it is the editor's note pad...with story notes on it. Even worse, the Magster has a black crayon. Ten minutes into the appointment, I haven't written a word, and my child has destroyed someone else's story.

Finally, La Nina pipes down, the Magster is coloring on her own pad of paper and I am drafting a way, when suddenly my screen window closes. I am semi-stunned. This isn't my computer, so I have no idea what happened. I look to my right, see the ever-curious and helpful La Nina. She has her hand on the mouse. She says, "Look Mom, it's just like yours at home. See I can click it." Another window closes, and I knew the culprit. Luckily, nothing was lost except a few years from my life in the panic.

Trying to keep my cool, I finally distract La Nina and convince her to practice writing her name. She doesn't make it past the 'R'. It's the third letter. Lessons here waiting parents: Do not give your children names that have the letter 'R' in it. Do not wake a sleeping baby. Trust me on these two things. She begins crying again. Now the reporter is out right giggling at the circus I brought to town. She is trying to distract La Nina. As I write my cutlines, I am saying, "It's easy. Straight line, half circle, slant-y line. You can do it." I just need 20 more coherent words at this point, and my personal hell will end.

After an eternity, I get the job done. The editor and I start yacking about some competitor gossip, when I smell something funny. Real funny, and I don't mean funny ha-ha...this is no laughing matter. Yep, the Magster filled that clean diaper...and of all the things I remembered to bring, the diaper bag was not one of them. The editor starts laughing as I pack up the Mistress of Stink and her pouty sister who wants a cookie and is bitter about the 'R'. I have an emergency diaper in the car, but wipes... As long as the Magster doesn't sit down I should be ok, it looks like a clean little package in that diaper, if you know what I mean. Unfortunately, the only luck I am having is bad luck. On the way out the door, the Magster plops down to show her new friend the reporter a boo-boo on her knee. The splat was audible.

Well, I won't go into the diaper change, we have all been there and if you haven't been there, you will be soon. Suffice to say, kids aren't real pleased to have their butts wiped with a paper towel wet with their mothers' spit. What was I thinking? If I would have just sent myself that email or taken my cell phone to the park, this whole trauma would have been avoided. I should have known better.

Straight from the mouths of babes

This year, we have decided to sponsor a baby through Half the Sky in my brother's name. My brother died 14 years ago this month to cancer.

While we waited to adopt both La Nina and the Magster, we would pray for Uncle Mike to be sent to China on special duty. Our request was that he would wrap our girls in his angel wings and keep them safe until we could hold them ourselves. We also laughed that if the girls came home loving the Raiders and Screaming Yellow Zonkers, then we would know who to blame. (Thankfully, no signs of a Raider Fan..yet, but the Magster's sweet tooth is only rivaled by my brother's, so we're worried.)

A couple of days ago, we received a picture and profile of the child we are sponsoring. Because I sincerely hope he is adopted some day, I will leave out further details on him.

Tonight over dinner, I offered a special prayer for the child we are sponsoring. La Nina immediately wanted details. I had showed her his picture when it arrived, but she wasn't interested at that point. But tonight she wanted details. To the best of my memory, here is our conversation.

"But Mom, who is he?" she asked.

I grabbed the picture from the counter, handed it to her and explained. "His name is XXXX. He is a little boy who is waiting for her forever family in China."

"I was born in China. And you had striped blanket and daddy had bunny when you got me," she said as she looked at our buddy's picture.

Kind of amazed she noted that in our pictures of the big moment, I explained, "That's right. They told us your favorite toy was a bunny, so we brought you the softest bunny we could find. This little boy is still waiting. That is why we are helping him."

"Will we get to meet him?" she asked.

"No, probably not. We are just going to make sure he has food, and clothes, and medicine until he meets his forever family."

"He doesn't have a family?" she asked.

"No, not yet," the Dad answered.

With the utmost sincerity in her voice, she answered, "How sad".

"It is sad, but we will make sure he is taken care of until he find them," I offered.

Then, spontaneously, with no prompting from us and still looking at this little boy's picture, she bursts into one of her Sunday School Songs. "Jesus' love is bubbling over, Jesus' love is bubbling over," etc.

Boy, did she have that right.

Happy New Year!

Well, 2006 is upon us and I have not made a single New Year's Resolution. Last year, I posted some resolutions and I generally failed to keep them. I did ok on keeping the refrigerator clean, but the poor dog definitely didn't get out much and I drink more caffeine than ever these days. (Hey--I have two kids. Caffeine is my drug of choice!)

This time last year, EVERYONE was in transition. I was getting used to having two kids. La Nina, then 2.5, was getting used to being a sister. Maggie, then 14 months, was getting used to life with a family. And the Dad was running for cover. There were days I would call him and say "Get out. Save yourself. The ship is sinking." He would laugh, but I was serious. I had some LONG days. I am happy to report, days like that have subsided.

So me, the obsessive planner, the woman who always has a goal and a strategy to attain it, is lacking any sort of direction as the new year begins. But know what I want: I want this year to be about slowing down and really appreciating the girls while they are still little. That means goals are counter productive, because I want to savor their childhoods more this year and goals take me away from that. A friend recently gave me some advice: "Forget the intellectual challenge for now," she said. This was a shocking statement coming from her. She has an MBA, a big career and two kids. She went on, "In 3 years, Maggie will start school and this time of your life will be over. I wish I spent more time with them when they were little."

Her statement made me think. She is right. The toughest year is now behind me and I will spend only a couple more years with my kids before school and homework descend on us. In comparison, this phase of my life will last shorter than many other phases. So, my goal for this year is to keep that in perspective, even on the days that feel really, really long.

Happy New Year Everyone!