Maggie Makes Four!

This journal started off documenting the adoption of our youngest daughter. It now follows the twist and turns of our lives as we raise these two amazing little creatures into the best women they can become.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Shopping with Immelda

This morning I asked the girls to choose between shoe shopping and swimming. Before the word swimming crossed my lips, La Nina answered, "Shoe Shopping." The Magster, as always, was game for what ever her sister wanted and she even seemed a little enthusiastic about shopping for shoes.

However, before we went shoe shopping I had to run a couple of errands and we had to get lunch. La Nina asked me about the timing of shoe shopping more than frequently than oil companies are raising the price of gas. She almost drove me batty. I finally had to threaten no shoes if she asked again.

"I'm just excited, Mom," she answered.

Now you have to know, La Nina loves shoes than any child I know. Target shoes are cheap and she would rather have a new pair of shoes than a new toy any day of the week, so I frequently use shoes to reward her. The Magster benefits from her sister's obsession through the hand-me downs. She really doesn't share her sister's passion for footwear, but she certainly has a fine collection of her own, because of the hand-me downs.

When we finally got to the mall for shoe shopping, both girls were dancing with joy. I mean, we were shopping for shoes. We went into Stride Rite where La Nina was measured and the clerk pointed her to the shoes that would most likely fit her ever growing feet. The display drew La Nina like a moth to light. She stood there oggling the styles, stroking the suede and frequently shouting, "Mommy, I just love these, don't you?" I, on the other hand, was busy looking through the sales bin. And happily I found shoes in both of their sizes. And better yet, both girls like the styles, so we actually got out of Stride Rite with out mortgaging the house.

Outfitted in their new shoes, the girls were content so I thought I would take a spin through a couple of other stores. We went into Baby Gap (I have mentioned La Nina is small, right?) and lo and behold, we find Jellies on sale. Again, the oohing and aahing, the begging and pleading. The shoes were $4, they were worth the money just to save my ears. (Ok, I didn't really get out of Baby Gap for $8....but that's another story.)

Finally, we swung into Gymboree. And what does La Nina immediately fixate on? A pair of sandals. The begging and pleading started again. I swear she even said, "But I have nothing to wear. I really need them." It was unbelievable. Because the shoes weren't on sale, I told her she would have to use her own money. When I told her the sandals were $21, she piped down.

We get home, the girls are showing Dad their shoes with great enthusiasm and La Nina disappears. In a few seconds, she returns with her money purse.

"Mom, I have $11," she said. "How much were those shoes?" I was blown away. She remembered.

"They were $21," I told her. "Sorry honey, you don't have enough. But you got some really great shoes (and a skirt and a dress--the other story), so you don't need those other shoes. "

She was quiet for a minute and said, "Ok, Mom. You'll just have to buy them."

Long story short, she was more than a little disappointed to learn that's not going to happen. The child has more shoes than I do.

Her whole shoe obsession is so fascinating to me. I'm not a huge shoe person, so this is something all her own. It's something she's always loved and something that she has always noticed. She frequently picks out my shoes while I get ready for work, compliments me on my shoe choice if I buy new ones, and comments on the shoes she see around her. I don't know what the meaning of all of this is...but I often think if I ever meet her birth mother the first question I'm going to ask is, "Are you into shoes?" And somehow I bet she has quite a collection.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Cooking Camp

This week should be a triumph of motherhood for me. This week is Pre-School Cooking Camp, the creme de la creme of the preschool camping program run by the city, and La Nina has one of 24 precious spots in the camp. Mother's have been known to cry, beg, bribe anything to get their kid into this camp. But, I, and 23 other mother's managed to send our faxes in at 8:00 a.m. on the first day of registration in February, thus securing our spot among the parenting elite. We are on it. We were paying attention. We beat the throngs.

You should know Cooking Camp is delightful--not that I've attended--it's kids only. But each day is spent cooking something like a pizza or a cookie or a cheese sandwich, creating some art project with food and reading stories about food. It is big fun for the foodies of the kid world.
Given the La Nina loves to help me in the kitchen and loves to try new foods, I thought, "What more perfect camp for my precious daughter?" When I heard my scheming secured my little chef a spot in camp, Oh, Happy, Happy Day.

Yesterday was the big "first" day of camp. Knowing that La Nina is 'sensitive' to new adventures we stopped by 'camp' last Friday, met the teachers, saw the classroom and counted the swings on the play ground. She was excited until Sunday night when she announced, "I'm not going to Cooking Camp."

As opposed to some parents who would be crushed by such a pronouncement, I viewed her attitude as merely a piece of egg shell in my otherwise perfect scramble. She told me she was a little scared that she wouldn't know anyone. I consoled her. It was normal to be nervous and it was going to be ok. She held my hand as we walked into camp, she being very brave, me a little annoyed at all the drama. It was cooking camp, for the love of Pete. It would be ok. And it was ok until the aide tried to put a damn name tag on my kid.

Now most kids love stickers. I know this. I have a child who would dress only in stickers if I let her. However, that child was not the one enrolled in cooking camp. The other child was. At the sight of the name tag sticker, the tears flowed. Ok, she sobbed. "No sticker, no sticker, no sticker." Ok, kid, no sticker. Trust me, no teacher will forget her name after that performance, I thought. I was right. The teachers all assured me a name tag was not necessary. I finally peeled LaNina off my leg, told her I would leave my cell number with a teacher in case of trouble and I sprinted for the door.

Later that day, I called home for the report on cooking camp. She loved it. She loved every cotton pickin' minute of it. She loved her teacher, her new friend Sarah, she loved making cookies and even made a mouse out of a paper bag. "Do I get to go tomorrow?" "Yes, of course, dear." The sweet and savory smell of success.

Then this morning. The sobbing started before we were out of the driveway. She hated the teachers, hated the classroom, hated cooking and I was a "bad mommy" for making her go. (Her words, not mine.) I had to carry her in, so she wouldn't make a break for it in the parking lot. The whole time I tried to get out of her why she was sooo upset. Nothing. Just tears and the litany of complaints. I reminded her of the fun from yesterday. Nothing. I threatened to give her spot in cooking camp to the very bitter Maggie. (I bought Maggie off with 3 pairs of Hello Kitty panties...La Nina wanted to know what happened to the panties if Maggie went to cooking camp.- I hate it when my kids are smarter than me) However, once we got to the classroom it all became clear...the tears were about the damn sticker. Ok, kid, no sticker.

So, there are 3 more days of cooking camp. Three more sticker name tag wars to wage. I'm coming to dread my morning drop offs more than liver and onions. And I thought this cooking was as easy as pudding pie.

Saturday, July 22, 2006

We're not in Kansas anymore...

Ok, last night, while we were sleeping, a twister hit and dropped our house in Africa. Yep, that is the only thing to explain the 110+ degree temperature today. Our patio actually hit 120 around 3:30 today. I think I saw an elephant this morning out at the park and I'm pretty sure there was more than one hippo at the pool, not that we were there to see it. It was too darn hot to leave the house.

For the record, I like the heat. You will never hear me complaining while temperatures are in the 90's, even the low 100s. But once it hits 105 the heat loses me, and 110+, I just think it's survival.
Today we just stayed in all day. We'll let you know how it goes tomorrow.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Are you ready? NO, I mean, really ready...

I have a friend in China right now adopting her second child. Yesterday morning I got an email from my friend that went something like, "omigod, pray for me...I don't know what is going on with this kid..." The whole situation was so reminiscent of Maggie, that I could have typed her email in Novemeber 2004. In fact, I sort of did in this blog, but I was trying to keep the whole thing light so as not to worry my mother.

Reading my friend's emails and offering what little advice I can from 10,000 miles, it brought back so many memories of the emotional turmoil I went through after we adopted Maggie. And it struck me: I wasn't prepared for Maggie when she was placed in my arms. Oh...sure, I knew the range of reactions that were possible from a baby under stress intellectually. I read the books, I read the stories on line, and heck, she was my second kid, I knew what to expect, but I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready for the emotional fall out of an angry, demanding, needy little baby clinging to me like her ship just sank and I was her lifeboat. I wasn't ready to be her life boat. And during those first few days, I thought she would drown me.

And you know, I'm not sure I could have been prepared. I'm not sure my friend could've been prepared either. You're in a foreign country, you're handed a child you don't know, you're given some sketchy instructions on their care in the emotional moments after you've become a parent, then you're sent back to your hotel room, ALONE, where it' s sink or swim. And sometimes, the current is just against you and the kid is poking your carefully constructed life boat with her sharp little fingers nails. Before you know it, you wonder if you're both going down.

But isn't that parenting? I mean, who is really prepared? Sure, you read, you go to class, you talk to lots of people, maybe you even consult with some specialist in international adoption in an effort to make sure your boat is as water safe as possible. Then when it's your kid not eating, not drinking, lips chapping from dehydration...all that knowledge is lost in a flood of tears. Why? Because what those damn books and experts are as helpful as rocks in the hull of your boat, when you're in the heat of the moment. They don't convey is the emotional part of becoming a parent: the hopes, the expectations, the disappointments. They make the whole damn process so cut and dried. If you do this, then this will solve the problem. And worse, we want to believe it will be that simple. But when there are emotions involved, the parent's and the baby's, even the most placid river becomes a treachous set of rapids that even the most experienced adventurer will struggle to navigate.

So, when I ask, are you ready? I mean, are you really, really ready? 'Cuz I don't care how big your boat and how many supplies you put in it, every kid takes you on a different ride.

Monday, July 17, 2006

The Whole Problem with Working

Any time you make a change, it takes a couple of months to work out the kinks in the new process. And really, it's fun being back at work, but there is one thing that is just killing me: The badge. I have to have this friggin' badge to not only get into the office, but sign onto my computer.

Now, not only do I have to get the kids ready for a day without me, get the house ready for a day with the nanny and get myself out the door dressed in something that is not only clean, but professional, I also have to remember this small object that the kids love to take from my purse and carry around. Last time I lost it, I found it under La Nina's bed. Needless to say, I was late that morning. No explanation needed.

I'm convinced some evil single guy without kids created the badge just to torture his co-workers with children. You know the type, Newman from Seinfeld, only a computer programmer. He was probably feeling sorry for himself because his co-worker had to stay home with his/her kid who had a really nasty stomach virus. And we all know how much fun kids with a stomach virus are... "Mommy, my tummy hurts", followed by something that resembles a scene from the Exorcist, only the substance spewing from the child is bright orange and on its landing on your white carpet.

This guy was probably feeling overworked and was seeking revenge when he said, "hmmm...why don't I create a small, brightly colored object that everyone must have to get into the building and sign onto their computer? I'll make it small enough to lose, an attractant to children, then I'll make it really expensive to replace. bru-hahaha. This should put that bon-bon eating mother right over the edge. "

And today, it fell out of my purse as I climbed from the mini-van in a skirt and heels. Gee....perhaps I was off balance because I was carry an oversized purse filled with objects to deal with every conceivable Mommy emergency as well as a small semi-precious jewel known as my badge? Of course, it's a five minute walk from the van to the gate and I didn't discover the badge missing until I got to the gate. Then I had to walk back to the van, where I found the badge laying on the ground on the driver's side, then I track back to the gate. It was a solid 15 minutes of walking in the heat (it was 107 here today, so it was hot this AM) and I was sweating by the time I got into the building. Then in true Texas fashion, I walked into my office, cooled to the temperature of a meat locker. It was the perfect start to a Monday.

And I swear I heard Newman laughing...

Friday, July 14, 2006

Vacation

Okay, now that I've finished my first week at home, I can write a little about our vacation. As usual, we spent the week in Colorado with my in-laws at their lovely mountain log home.

Considering we drove two kids and a dog across three states TWICE in ten days, it's a wonder we aren't twitchy. May I nominate the creator of in-car DVDs for a Nobel Peace Prize? 'Cuz that woman deserves one. Bringing happiness to children stuck in a car for two days straight is on par with curing polio, if you ask me.

Life at the ranch is fun. The girls were busy all week, they
  • chased butterflies (some butterflies actually lived to tell the tale of their capture),
  • rode four wheelers with their Dad and Grandpa (Maggie loved it so much she looked like she was trying to inhale the entire experience like a helium out of a balloon)
  • rode horses with Mom and Dad on back and a real, live cowboy and cow girl leading the horse (glorified pony ride, but they're only 4 and 2)
  • learned to rope a home made cow (deer antlers tied to a saw horse)
  • fished in a stream that cuts through grandpa's property and caught 3 cut throat trouts (ok, Maggie was a nightmare next to a rushing stream, so she only fished for as long as my nerves could tolerate it)
  • Saw two parades: one for the fourth of July and the other a "cow parade" (A parade of cows happens when a herd of cows moving from one pasture to another surrounds your van...trust me, it was a bigger hit than the real parade.
Despite all their fun, the thing they've talked about the most in the last week is the great time they had with Grandma and Grandpa. They can't wait to go back next year.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

A Bit of a Crash Landing

Well, we're back from a wonderful vacation-more to follow on that-but it hasn't been an easy transition. Going into this week, I knew this was going to be a rough one. We were getting back about 12 hours before I had to be back at work, but I figured it would just work out. Then, we walked in the door and things went bad, I mean real bad.

For reasons we can't quite figure out, the freezer in our house totally defrosted while we were gone and a sticky, icky mess awaited me upon my arrival. Imagine ice cream, meat, frozen fruit and frozen veggies all congealed together in an oozing mess. Big fun at our house. My first three hours home were spent with my head in the freezer tossing soggy frozen food into a trash bag and scrubbing down muck. I had to dismantle the thing to get it clean. Ugh! The inside of my freezer is truly pristine now, but it remains empty. I'm still trying to figure out what went wrong.

The freezer issue was about as much fun as cleaning up after one of Maggie's accidents...and I've been doing that too for some reason. Of course, spending my first evening home cleaning the freezer completely threw a wrench into my plans for the week. With no fresh or even frozen vegetables, it was slim pickens around here. So, last night the girls and I had to go out to dinner and make an emergency trip to grocery store. Again, this was just not in the plans. But I got home from work, changed my clothes, loaded the kids in the car, went to the Hop Yard for dinner, then hit Safeway. By the time I completed that expedition, unloaded the grocery, gave the kids a bath and got them to bed, it was well after 9pm and I had mail to sort, bills to pay, etc.

This means very little laundry has been dealt with, bags are still packed and I'm wiped from two nights of household turmiol with very little to show for my efforts.

So, now that we are restocked and refrozen, perhaps, I can begin unpacking...two days after arriving home. At least we had a great vacation, but boy, sometimes reality does bite.