This and That

Just to bring you up to date on a few things:

La Nina managed to pass her swim class without ever attending her actual class. How can this be, you ask? Well, apparently, if a child pitches a big enough fit, they get their own "special" class aka "private lesson" for the entire two week session. And she never has to get in the pool with the big boys. Yep, she worked that out for herself, didn't she?

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The Magster attended her first gymnastic class this week. This was no Mommy and Me class, this was gymnastics, just like her big sister. At the tender age of 2.5, she strode into class with a look of sheer delight on her face, smiled and waved at me and proceeded to do well in her class. She wasn't clear on waiting her turn, but she didn't mind when the teacher told her she had to wait. Mostly, she loved every second of having her very own activity. La Nina got to spend 45 minutes watching her sister do something for a change and she handled it well. She yelled, "Good job, Maggie," several times during the class. Of course, this means I now spend 2 hours a week in a darkened Gym watching my girls do things that make me cringe, but hey...that's motherhood.

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Wonder the part of our life that took the biggest hit when the kids entered our lives? I've decided it was the financial management part. I opened Quicken this month for the first time in 3.5 years...who knew it had been that long? The last day I entered, downloaded or even thought about recording a transaction: December 10, 2002. We left for China to adopt Carly on December 13, 2002. Coincidence? I think not.

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June was a really fun month for us. For the first time, we noticed our kids are easier. I swear when kids hit 2.5, they change and Maggie hit that age in late May. As a result, on weekends in June, we went to the city, went to a rodeo, went camping and went to a swanky party. It seemed like a busy month, but when I write it down I realize a month like this hasn't been possible for us in 3.5 years...hmmmm....that timeline surfaces again. December 2002 really slowed us down, not that we minded. Yet, it's nice to know that a little freedom is coming back.

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Don't be surprised if you don't hear from me for a couple of weeks. We have a lot going on. I'll save the stories and share them with you once I catch my breath. And for those who asked, yes, the kids really do steal our shoes.

"Mom and Dad, we've talked. We've decided to hide all of your shoes unless you give us more ice cream." 

A Hall of Fame Day

Yesterday, we were invited to what was billed as "the Rehersal dinner" for Coach Madden's induction into the Hall of Fame. Hosted at his son's house, the party included great food, great drinks and a playroom complete with a babysitter...my favorite feature. Rumor had it that over 400 people were there, and that could've been true. The party was so spread out it was tough to get a sense of its size.

This wasn't a champagne and caviar event. This party was for Madden. A Raider. He's no '49'er. The fare for the day was a margaritas and quesadillas and killer desserts made by his daughter-in-law who is a fabulous baker. There were some speeches: The current Raider Coach Art Shell said a few words. And when someone told me Willie Brown was going to speak after Shell, I was searching for the former Mayor of San Francisco. I didn't figure out I was looking for the wrong guy until the Hall of Fame Football Player Willie Brown took the mike.

It was at that moment I realized I was a fish out of water. While the many members of the crowd were recognizing former athletes right and left, I was looking for the former Mayor of San Francisco. While the guests were admiring the condition and size of the former players, I was checking out the fashions on their wives. While the members of the Raider Nation were listening with fascination to football stories told by the greats themselves, I was trying to flag down the gal with the margaritas.

Don't get me wrong: I fully appreciate the accomplishment of making the Hall of Fame. And at the same time, I must admit I'm only a fair weather football fan. Even though I hail from a long-line of Raider fans, their image has always been a little dark for my taste.

But I know my brother and my grandfather were doing flip-flops in Heaven at the fact I was at this event with the likes of Madden, Shell, Brown, Vela and others. So, when I went up to the table of former players, shook their hands and thanked them for the pleasure their team brought my family, I was thinking of Mike and Grandpa. And all the times I intentionally walked in front of the television while they were watching these men on it.

Just when you think you know your kid...

Like most Moms during the summer, I signed La Nina up for swim lessons. (The Magster isn't old enough.) For La Nina, swim lessons are a no-brainer. The kid is half fish. She loves the water and I usually can't convince her to get out of the pool.

We show up for swim lessons at the pool we visit regularly on Monday, she takes one look at the pool and says, "No, Mom. I don't like swim lessons." I'm stumped. I ask her why, she starts sobbing. Her sobbing escalates to hysteria and before I know it, we've devolved into into full melt down about NOT swimming. Now a temper tantrum about getting out of the pool is expected, but one about getting into the pool? This was a new one on me.

Of course, I reasoned with her. Asked her why. Tried to settle her down. She just got more hysterical. Thankfully, we go to the pool a lot and the lesson coordinator knew she is a swimmer. So, she sent a wonderful teen age girl lifeguard to work with La Nina. Eventually, a very timid La Nina gingerly waded into the pool, whimpering the whole time. The last time I took her to the pool, I put her in time out for diving into the shallow end. The water shy kid I took to the pool on Monday was not my daughter.

The good thing with La Nina is she usually tells me her real issues once she settles down and Monday was no exception. In the new class, the kids went to the deep end and she was afraid she was going to sink. I gently reminded her that life guards don't let kids sink. She agreed, then the real issue: the teachers were teen age boy lifeguards and wanted nothing to do with them. In her defense, the lifeguards were a little boisterous in a fun way, but they were great. There were 3 of them for 6 kids. Two were out in the water, one was keeping an eye with the kids on the edge. Those guards were patient, supportive, encouraging...just a little too enthusiastic for La Nina's taste, I suppose.

So, I called the lesson coordinator the next morning and explained the situation. Now, I'm fairly unsympathetic to a reluctance to deal with members of the opposite sex. Half the world is male. You have to learn to deal with them sometime. Even if they are loud.

The lesson coordinator just laughed. She has 4 girls and has seen this before. So, here's the resolution: Carly is unofficially getting private lessons with the lone girl life guard who is on duty in the mornings. And it worked. Tonight, La Nina begged me to go back to swim lessons. Why? She misses her teacher and wants to go back in the deep end with the kick board. Oy Vey!

Shocking, Sad, and Yet....

You know, I'm sort of out of the loop on what's in and what's out on dossiers with China these days. So, when I read the rumors on another blog, I had to ask the writer for clarification. If I understand the latest developments correctly, China rejected a handful of families waiting for referrals due to obesity. The families had waited over 10 months for this news and were devastated. How incredibly painful to discover a new criteria so late in the game and my heart goes out these people.

This whole thing got me thinking, is this new policy offensive because it reeks of discrimination or is it offensive because these people didn't know up front? I know some very heavy people who are wonderful parents. I know some very thin people who are horrible parents. Yet, no one ever said you can only be a parent if you're thin. What if someone did? What if China said, "People adopting must have a body mass index (bmi) under 30?" Most of us are probably guilty of caring a few extra pounds, may be even more than a few extra pounds...do we project ourselves into this scenario too easily for our own comfort? Does it seem too arbitrary? Are we just so politically correct we can't admit that China may have a point from a health perspective?

Let's face it: parenting small children is physically demanding. There is tons of lifting, lots of twisting into unnatural positions, countless hours chasing and more than a few nights spent sleeping (or not sleeping as the case may be) in random positions. This doesn't take into account the bathing, laundering or even lifting of kid stuff like strollers and car seats. With kids under 5, parenting is a highly physical task. Every now and again, parents get referred a wild child like my little one, and if you put a kid like Maggie in the wrong family..honestly, someone is going to an early grave.

This referral situation reminded me of a conversation I had one day at the playground. A woman in my play group who is heavy was watching me and Maggie when she was about 18 months old. She had climbed up some 15 foot play structure and was stuck, and I had to climb up and get her. When I came down, Maggie went up the same structure again and so did I. I couldn't stop her. So, I just kept climbing up behind her keeping her safe until she was worn out. At the end of this whole thing, this woman looked at me and said, "They put that kid in the right family, I couldn't have done that." And you know what, she couldn't have. It was a brave admission on her part.

There are some things bigger people can't do. It doesn't make them better or worse parents, yet their weight increases their risk of injury or illness and in some cases, limits their mobility. Whether we like it or not, it's a fact. And perhaps that is what China was taking into consideration when they refused those dossiers. When I was in China on both adoptions, I saw some really big people carrying around babies, sweating profusely, and I wondered to myself, "Are they going to be ok?" With La Nina, before I was in baby shape, I remember just aching after lugging her around for a day, and I'm not a big person. I'm fairly active. But I was still really hurting. May be China is trying to reduce the risk for both parents and the children they are referred by refusing these families referrals.

China has rules about Gays and Lesbians adopting and it's stated up front. If you're Gay, no need to apply. Many people feel it's discriminatory, yet because it's a policy and sexual preference is easily hidden. There doesn't seem to be much of an outcry about this policy. Would it be ok if China said something similar but used the BMI as the measure? This issue would not be easily skirted. The physical required to adopt asks for height and weight. It would be hard to hide in those pictures too. So, this rule isn't as easy to navigate around as some of the others. Is that why it's so offensive?

I don't know the answers to any of my questions. But my mind has been churning on them lately. And it's always tempered with my deep sympathy for the people rejected after waiting so long.

The campers prepare for S'more production, assembly and consumption. Whose got the wipes!

A deflated air mattress, a dirty diaper and one LONG night

This weekend was our 3rd annual trip to the Northern California Families with Children from China campout. As always, it was lots of fun. And it also seems to be an annual event that I only spend one night in my two night camp out actually in the tent.

This year was no exception to that rule. I knew it was going to be a rough night when about 30 minutes after going to bed, I could feel the ground under me. Ever the optimist, I assumed that the Dad just hadn't put enough air in the mattress from the night before and I fell asleep. I woke up a couple of hours later sleeping on the cold, hard ground. I was warm enough in my sleeping bag and since everyone in the tent was snoring, I just stayed put. Then the smell hit my nose.

"Mama, poo-poo," the Magster whispered. Yea, I kind of figured that out. This was an unexpected complication. You see, I used all but one last wipe cleaning sticky fingers after s'mores, I didn't have enough wipes to manage a bad diaper. My options were not good. The bathroom was a long hike from the tent, outhouses inspire the Magster to scream "No, Mama, I pee-pee on ground," and tents are pitched in close proximity to each other to accomodate the more than 250 campers with FCC making a quick, late night sponge bath in the back of the van unfeasible...it, too, would have been loud. So, I resolved to hoof it to the bathroom, in the name of a good night's sleep. Then, La Nina woke up.

La Nina had to go potty too. Since I was heading that directions, I put shoes on her, picked up the Magster, grabbed a spare pull up and a wash cloth, and headed out of the tent around mid-night. It was a LONG walk. La Nina was stumbling along beside me, whimpering, the Magster was announcing, "Poo-poo, Mommy, poo-poo." I felt like I was on some sort of parenting reality show. The challenge: Dash 300 yards to the nearest bathroom with two half awake kids in tow while making as little noise as possible.

After about 15 minutes of repair work in the potty, the girls were cleaned up and we headed back to the tent. I put the Magster on my back, held La Nina's hand and the three of us looked at the stars as we wove our way through the tent city. Then, another decision which is quieter: settling two now wide awake kids back into the tent on the cold, hard ground OR sleeping in the van where at least normal conversations aren't keeping 10 other families awake? In deference to my friends and neighbors, the girls and I got in the van. I hunkered down in the reclined front seat while the kids were wrapped up in their sleeping bags in car seats. This didn't work at all. The kids wanted to be with me, so all three of us ended up in the front seat of the van: La Nina curled in a bawl on the drivers seat, the Magster sprawled out on top of me. They conked out immediately. I, on the other, was not so fortunate.

You know, it's amazing the night time traffic in a camp ground. The number of potty runs between mid-night and whenever I fell asleep was truly remarkable. And did you know a firetruck actually made the rounds to check on camp fires? I know these things after last night.

I was awoken sometime later to tapping on the van window. It was my husband. It appeared he was a bit startled to awake all alone in a tent on a deflated air mattress on Father's Day. I told him my gift to him was that I didn't make him part of our night time adventures.

As tired as I am, I can still look back and think I'm glad we went. Seeing the girls of all ages and sizes is heart warming. And you know, eventually the kids will be old enough to sleep in the van alone.

Monkey Business

For the last few nights, the Dad and I have had a series of business meetings here at the house. Of course, since we have children, they are always present. Tonight, night three of these meetings, the kids patience ran out. The following events transpired during one 15 minute period of a 90 minute meeting.

Maggie went into the bathroom and began screaming "Poo-poo, Mama. Poo-poo." Needless to say, I left the meeting to deal with the issue at hand. After finishing her business, she refused to put her pants on as she left the bathroom. In case you're wondering, this means she balled herself up to the size of a beach ball and howled "Noooooo" everytime I tried to dress her. My options were a child running around in panties, a scene that would sound abusive as I physically forced the pants onto her or a child screaming bloody murder in her room. I took option 1 and returned to the meeting.

La Nina then decided she had to have a book she left in the car. Had. to. have. it. Now. Mom. I'm still trying to catch up to the meeting after the whole bathroon break and gave her permission to go out to the car and get her book. Unbeknownst to me, Maggie followed her. Maggie wasn't gone long when she came back into the kitchen and announced, "It raining." Now, for some reason, we didn't believe her. Perhaps it was her age, or maybe it was the fact that it is June, but all three adults dismissed rain as a possibility. She turned on her heal and left the kitchen.

After about 5 minutes, it dawned on me, the house was quiet. Too quiet. So, I left the meeting again to investigate. The front door was open, it was indeed raining and my kids were both outside. Trouble. A neighbor's van was hovering in the street in front of our house and I could hear laughter coming from it. Big trouble. As I walked out of the house, I realized Maggie had taken her message about the rain to the street literally. She was standing on the sidewalk in her panties, telling my neighbor all about the rain, while her sister was in the van, pretending to drive. My neighbor called to me, her voice thick with amusement, that her son wanted to know why Maggie left the house without her pants in the rain. Grand, a seven-year-old questioning my parenting skills. The real question was why on earth do I think it's possible to conduct business with two kids under 5 in the house?

I rounded up the kids, took them back into the house, deadbolted the door again, and popped in a video. Gee! Why didn't I think of that first?

We went to the Livermore Rodeo today and the girls had the chance to meet the Rodeo Queen. Needless to say, La Nina was thrilled. And Grandpa, La Nina really wants to learn how to rope next time we see you.  

Maggie, waking up from a nap just in time to meet Rodeo Royalty, liked the horses best. "Horses go faster, and faster and all the people fall down boom," she said when I asked her about her first rodeo.  

La Nina's Big Day

While Maggie and I were busy in the parking lot, La Nina was off on her first ever big girl adventure. A friend from her gymnastics class invited her back to her house for a spontaneous lunch and play date after class. This is the daughter of the Mom I hang out with during class andI was comfortable with the arrangement. But, seeing my little one climbing into the back of someone else's van made my heart skip a beat.

You know it's funny. I spend most of my days as a parent in the trenches. I'm just trying to get through the day and keep the kids clean, fed and out of trouble. There is always laundry and dishes and some minor disaster that needs wiping, and occasionally something like a play date makes me stop and realize: Wow, La Nina is a little girl.

Wasn't it just yesterday she was a finger sucking baby who couldn't miss a nap? And now she's a 4 year old who has friends and rolls her eyes at me. When did this happen? It must have happened some time between the morning cartoons and the bedtime stories...but I can't put my finger on the exact moment. And that is the fleeting nature of raising children, I suppose. It happens right before my eyes, yet I feel like it happened while my head was turned.

When I picked her up from the playdate, she got in the van and said, "Mom, it was a lot more funner at their house." I laughed-I don't take things like this personally. I answered that it was supposed to be more fun at her friend's house. She giggled, then, she put her fingers in her mouth, tilted her head back and fell asleep in her car seat. It was the perfect reminder: she's still my baby. There's just a lot more of her to love these days.

What's a Mother to Do?

So, I had to stop by the office today. La Nina had her first spontaneous playdate (bloggable in its own right) and I just had Maggie with me. I went into the lobby to sign some forms and ended up chatting a bit.

Before I left I asked Maggie about potty, she said No, so I bid my friend farewell and headed to the car. Now I have to say, Maggie looked exceptionally cute today. She had on her pink skirted leotard for her sister's gymnastics class and she was sporting two anemic pony tails that each carried oversized big fluffy bows. On the five minute walk back to the car, she was skipping along and even the elder statesman I work with were smiling at the sight of her. As I bent to pick her up, she said the words ever mom dreads, "Pee-pee, Mommy."

The options flashed before my eyes...It's a good 5 minute walk to the nearest bathroom and she required a badge to get access to the building. Not good. Load her into the car, drive across the street to Target, park the car and run into the store...not even possible. Find the nearest tree and let it rip...not here, I'm at work.

Her words made the choice easy, "Pee-pee, Mommy, now!" Of course, the leotard was a huge complication, but I was on the side of the car that sheltered her...so I stripped my daughter in the parking lot of a major, multinational company to let her pee behind a tree. How low is that? It gets worse. She missed. She peed all over her leotard, her leg and my shoe. Lovely. Even worse, while in this delicate position, a group of wizened executives strolled past to leave for lunch and of course, one looked over at me, mid-diaster.

So there I stood, my daughter, naked and peeing on my foot in the middle of a corporate parking lot, faced with some random executive. In the way of explanation, I offer, "It's an emergency."

He sort of laughed and said, "I hope that works out for you." Considering I had a change of clothes in the car, I suppose it did.

Three friends "Hear No Evil, See No Evil and Speak No Evil" but have lots of fun hanging out in San Francisco Saturday night.  

Etc., Etc., Etc.

Ok, thought I would just give a bunch of quick updates:

Second week of work went well. I'm enjoying the whole work scene. Everyone is adjusting to the new, harried life. I only work 3 days a week, but still...it's an adjustment. The Dad has to get the kids out the door every morning and he's learning "to-do-hair" for the first time in his male dominated life. He's got La Nina's hair figured out, but the Magster is another story. She went to school the other day without her beloved tails. I think that was a first.
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The Magster is over her potty issues. Thank Goodness. It took a couple of days and the threat of a diaper, but she was scared straight and is back on the bus, so to speak.

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I went to this "Pitch-a-thon" the other night at a local book store. The idea was to pitch your book idea to a couple of agents and the best idea won a 30 minute consult. I thought, "Why not?" so I fed the kids dinner, gave them a bath and headed for the book store. When I arrived, there were at least 30 people holding query letters and dressed to the nines waiting to pitch their book. I, on the other hand, had no query letter and a pitch written on the back of a tattered thank you note I found in my purse. Because I'm one of those people who believes, "nothing ventured, nothing gained," I proceeded to "pitch" my book idea in dinner splattered pants. Alas, I didn't win a meeting with an agent, but I did get some really good input on my idea so I was glad I went. And next time I'll know...boy...some of these writerly types are serious. The gal who won really had a great idea...the minute I heard it I knew she just sold a book.

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I think that's it for now. More to follow.